I had set off down the path less than two days ago and had made better time than I would have suspected, these changes my body had undergone had increased my endurance and speed. I had only been average when it came to such things so this had come as a shock, along with the razor sharp teeth and strangely long tongue. My mind hadn’t fully understood what had happened to me these past few weeks as I hadn’t the time for self reflection, but now with the four hunters that had been closely following me I took some time to think as I walked. My stomach full and steps light I rounded the final corner before the last stretch of stone path would lead down to the bottom of the mountain, the icy cold snow and piercing winds long left behind.

The area near the bottom was flush with grass, a veritable sea of green stretched out over rolling hills, dotted with splashes of color in the form of flowers and herbs. There was a large span of trees farther away and to either side of me stretched the Kuran mountain range, disappearing from sight along the horizon. The sky had turned the bright blue of mid spring, with only a tiny amount of color mottling the leaves in the distance to betray autumn’s coming.

I peered around the corner I had just come to looking for any signs of other hunters in the party chasing me, and was rewarded with the sight of smoke coming from behind a nearby hill. There was a man standing utterly still atop the hill in front of where the smoke was coming from, presumably where the camp was set. His eyes scanned over the vast field in practiced sweeps, and with my newly strengthened eyes I could see the slight rise and fall of his chest that betrayed his statue like appearance. He seemed to be alone, unless there was someone near the smoke behind him. I realised it was be extremely difficult to pass him by if he was part of the hunter group. I didn’t know the specifics of the size of the part but it seemed there were around 6, four that had come after me and died and another two I had spotted scouting one of my previous hiding areas, a small ditch in the forest I had claimed as my own.

The sentry hadn’t seemed like he was going anywhere very soon, so I decided to find a nice comfortable ditch of dirt and wait. I reached into a pocket in my newly acquired cloak, and pulled out my rune book. While the amount of runes were not paltry in quantity many were severely lacking in the quality department, only being rank C or D, my best being a high ranking B rank rune, the body modification rune. None of them were the best of their particular type but they served well enough, especially considering I had barely any offense runes. Rune magic was one of the least popular types of magic, considered easy to use compared to the Word based magic. Rune mages were considered inferior because they had to write their will upon the world to effect it, many Word mages used rune magic for specific jobs, like enchanting but considered rune mages that couldn’t speak the Language beneath them.

I found the whole business exhausting, the constant back and forth between Words mages and runes mages so similar to the nobles fighting amongst themselves. When I was younger, more naive and bright eyed, I hoped that the mages would be different than the nobles that had lorded over me. Yet, if anything, the mages were worse. The squabbles were very similar but while the mages had to adhere to the king’s law, even if they circumvented this to certain degrees, the mages could cause your tongue to blister in your mouth, and your fingernails to rot if you offended one. While there was a system in place to keep the mages in check, why would a magister spend the time and mana to find why some low ranking mage, that can’t even speak the Language without Shattering, had suddenly developed a very severe case of maggot infested eyes. Most magisters wouldn’t spend their time and effort in such a way, while there were some that took their job seriously most did it out of a sense of duty, not because they cared. There were some that did care, like Magister Jeil, he cared for you even if you couldn’t speak the Language like me, but even he had turned on me at the first sign of change.

I frowned, then sighed. I really needed to stop making myself think about that. It wasn’t helping with my already endangered mind, who was to say I hadn’t gone mad and really was a dull’in as everyone said, I had some symptoms. A deep hunger, and sharp teeth being the main ones, but I had never heard of dull’ins’ having the ability to think like I had, I even planned ahead and set traps for those annoying hunters. That voice was another thing, now that I had thought about, it seemed even stranger the more I considered it. Was it madness? Did I have some strange voice urging me on to do whatever it is I was doing? I sighed again and looked back down at my book, snapping it shut and securing it away in my pocket. The sun had moved partway across the sky signalling I had been thinking for quite some time. Standing up I straightened my cloak and brushed away the dirt, sending my two newly requisitioned blades swaying.

Another thing that seemed stranger the more I thought about it was that blinding flash of light I had seen after my meal. After the flash I had known more about swordplay and what the runes on the blades meant, I had never seen some of the runes and knew absolutely nothing about swords. Thinking about the fight in general seemed extremely foolish in hindsight, going against three trained swordsman and a meatball was a bad idea to say the least. Even with the traps I set, it was a miracle I had been able to kill the older man, his sword fighting was beyond what I could understand. A pattern had formed in my mind, after eating three swordsmen I had gained information on swordplay, and the two similar looking ones had probably known the runes on their own blade which would explain why I knew the runes. This epiphany set my mind spinning once again as I remembered all my meals since the changes, some garden variety snakes, one D ranked king viper I had trapped with a glyph, a wolf, and some roots and berries. I hadn’t noticed any specific changes after these meals but I did feel abnormally quick.

Maybe the men had provided more because of their size, or perhaps their Core level was higher than I had thought, the old man had seemed around C level when I had fought him, low leveled in the grand scheme but he was tempered with experience, another reason why my one on one fight was even more ill advised, though I couldn’t accurately say the strength of the two trapped ones. I couldn’t quite get a feel on my own Core level after the changes, before they had occurred I had been a low level B rune mage, this meant I could use simple runes and form them into glyphs of up to four. The more combinations available meant more potential power, but now after changing I couldn’t feel anything inside me, it was like my Core was gone altogether. What didn’t make sense was that if there was no Core I had no way to do rune magic, there was a reason that there weren’t hundreds of thousand of mages running around tearing apart reality all the time. Most people lacked a Core, while this didn’t mean much in your daily life, if you wanted to be an adventurer or, like me, a mage scholar, then you needed a core.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

I was startled out of my reverie, realising I was just standing in the middle of the mountain path. Where any kinds of beast could sneak up on me, even with their peculiar lack on my first trip up I didn’t want to get complacent. The thing that startled me was a series of yelling and shouting from the location of the camp and sentry, I peered around the corner yet again and saw the smoke rising up, yet this time it wasn’t the wispy stream of a campfire, it was a torrent of grey black smoke racing ever upwards. The sound of metal clashing against metal was interspersed within the screaming and yelling. The smell of burnt flesh wafted over to me, setting my mouth to watering, the smoky savory scent spoke of someone’s testament as a cook. I frowned realising that whatever was happening down there would probably not leave anything left, if it was bandits they would burn the meat beyond edible and if it was a beast, then, there wouldn’t be much left.

I noticed the sentry was absent and took the opportunity to sprint down the last stretch of stone before the end of the mountain, the stone under my boots thumping with every footstep. The wind blew past my hair sending it back in streamers, and the cloak I had obtained billowed out. The sound of screaming and fighting still filled my ears as I reached the bottom, I quickly sprinted to the right and followed along the ridge of a hill, down wind, to hide myself from whatever was going on, not wanting any part. My stomach was not in any danger of rebelling soon, and I had no intention of being seen. I followed a series of hills edging my way around the bowl of the valley until the sound of battle faded, I didn’t know if it was over or I was just too far away but I had reached the beginning of the forest. New noises filled my senses as I ran over the ground, avoiding twigs and dry leaves. Nearly silent I made my way deeper into the forest heading east away from the sun.

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Nearly a week had passed since the incident in the mountains that left four dead, I had roamed the forest until I found a small stream of clear water. Since then I had settled into my makeshift shelter, I ranged in a small area around it setting simple glyph traps that would trap any small animals they caught. This made it easy to catch forest hares and the occasional fox. I had a sense of the forest that was missing in my first mad dash through it, as I wasn't being chased to my knowledge, and this time I could watch the water run down the river, and listen to the birds sing in the trees. My hunger was not gnawing at me, I had a comfortable enough lean-to and a supply of water. The green trees mottled by color letting in some sunlight on my little paradise that gave a sense of peace.

It truly was an annoying place.

I was bored with this small clearing I had made myself, I hadn’t heard from my little mind friend and I was almost sure the whole voice was a hallucination caused by the stressful situation. I had killed four men, while this held no where near the impact it would have before I was chased out of my home, it was still new. I sighed and lifted the headless rabbit to my mouth again before coiling my tongue around its small lifeless body and eating it whole. Do you doubt me child?

“What!?” I gave out a startled sound.

I am ever with you now, you have taken the first steps, now you must follow this path to its end.

“What the hell are you talking about?! What are you?!” I shouted to no one in particular.

I am the void in your stomach, ever wanting, I am the tongue in your mouth, ever thirsting, I am your desire, and your fulfillment. You need only follow the path laid before you and obtain what you wish.

So the voice is obviously not made up. I thought deeply, its words struck a chord with me. I had no idea what path the voice was talking about but it seemed a decent enough sort, offering me my deepest desire was a nice thing too. If only I had any idea what that was. My father had been a scholar, and I had revered him, so I followed the same path after finding out I had the ability to carve runes. Yet after fulfilling that wish, it left me tired with daily life. Awake, read dusty tomes, research a dead language, ask for permission to carve a glyph, wait for a response, carve the glyph, record the results, repeat. Day after day, the wonder I had felt after learning I could do magic had faded. It was absurd, the day dreams of every child in the world turned out to be menial labor conscripted to those unlucky enough not to be “real” mages.

No rune mages were let onto the battlefield, they were left in the rear creating weapons and enchanting blades. Thankless and bored. The stories of men carving the sky, and the tearing down mountains were left to mages with the power of the Language, no one asked for a rune mage in their adventuring party. Who would want to wait for minutes as someone scrolled through their books looking for just the right series of runes to cast a fireball, or heal a wound when another could do it with some words and a wave of the hand. Even rune mage’s enchanting didn’t need one to be there, go to the market and have a wand crafted with the spell ready and you can use it. The thing rune mages lacked was power, they could do incredible feats of magic but “real” mages could do it better. Ever since the start I had been complacent in my desires, unwilling in my dreams. I hadn’t the power to do these things, I told myself then. I couldn’t stop an army with my blade or crash down the heavens upon them. Yet now, this voice told me I had the power to achieve my desires, it told me I could wrest the things I wished for from the hands of those I wanted. It spoke to me.

“What do I need to do?”

And so it said.

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Deep in the earth, in halls of blackest stone that reflected cold magelight down their lengths. A small dark room flickered with light, not the cold blue magelight, real burning flame. The reason was this room wasn’t a normal room, it was a prison. A god’s prison. The stone around it blocked out all incoming mana, even that which was found in the air. The floor was cold and inert, the chains that bound the being within were mundane yet strong. Its emaciated body hung by its hands and its middle was bound in bands of blackest steel. And its eyes reflected the flickering light. It laughed darkly, a laugh that spoke of unending torment that had just hinted at its end. Then in a deep rumbling voice that told of an endless hunger it spoke out.

Drink deep, and eat much. You will need it for what is to come.

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