Thud.
“Eck! Pwah! Yuck!”
That’s Disgusting!
Wait a minute—is this… grass?
Yeah, it is. Does that mean I’m still alive?
…
No, no, no! Any Seldin worth his name knows that walking through that gate means death. But, then just what is going on here?
The man stood up, dusting off his long black overcoat.
He was a young man, by appearances—perhaps in his early twenties—yet his features spoke of many more years of wisdom and experience, though not in such a way as to clash with his otherwise youthful appearance. Long black hair flowed halfway down his gold-embroidered black coat. Seeing him for the first time, one might imagine he was a noble from a far-off country.
Nevertheless, here he was—in a different land, with a grassy taste left in his mouth, and alive; which apparently came as a surprise.
Hmm. What to do. Well, if I really am alive, things should still work like normal. Let’s give it a shot.
“Planet ID Return”
…
“ID: 437215.”
Hmm. That would be planet Aretor. Yes, that should be right. I remember from those guys I sent over to—
“ARETOR?!”
What. The. Heck. This is real. I’m really still alive. That’s not how it was supposed to work… Lets go back and try again.
“Portal Creation to coordinates (0,0,0) The Spacial Hall.”
…
Huh. Not enough energy in this place. I could wait and absorb it… Yeah right. The energy here is so thin it would take me half a term, and who knows what could happen in that amount of time. I mean, that’s around 5 times the life span of the mortals here. Well, let’s take a look around then. I always did want to personally see them incarnate with my own eyes.
Reylor Seldin surveyed his surroundings, as the midday sun fully illuminated the grassy clearing he was standing in. To the south was what appeared to be a small faming village encompassed by a wooden baracade. A dirt path spilled out from the nearest enterance, splitting into one that continued north, and another that curved to the west, abruptly ending next to a dense forest.
Reylor glanced over to the forest, just as a shriek hit his ears.
Ouch. What was that?
“Aaah!” “Shade! Shade!” “It’s a shade wof!” The cries echoed as three small figures seemingly spat out of the woods, soon followed by an ominous black figure.
True, it did roughly resemble a wolf, but there were a few differences. The figure was hard to make out distinctly, because it was surrounded by some form of dark energy. Its eyes were blood red and its movements appeared a bit stiff. That was not to say, however, that it was slow. On the contrary, what it lacked in flexibility, it more than made up for in brute strengh—strength which was bringing it ever closer to its prey with each passing moment.
“Help! Help us!” They cried out, hoping someone would hear.
There was not much time, and there only seemed to be one person aware of their plight—This stranger from another land. But what would he do?
Reylor sighed, leaning back against a nearby tree. What a pity. Fate truly is a cruel master. He thought.
He wasn’t inherrantly evil, but rather had a bit of a strange background, which included duties not unlike that of a judge and an executioner. Having done so for a full term—or 1000 years, in human terms—he had developed a sort of detached personality, and therefore felt no need to interfere in the fate of these “mortals.”
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“Ugh” At that moment Reylor nearly doubled over as a wave of nausea washed over him. Any other person would not have noticed anything, but Reylor was deeply affected. Karma. I’m under Karma now. Who would have thought…
Dammit. Ok, let’s do something about this.
“Earth!” Two brown clods broke through the grass, landing in his open hands.
Calculations flooded his mind as he spoke.
“Matter! Physical! Titanium!”
A wave of light replaced the rich brown with a silver luster.
He paused for a moment as his mind raced through his memories. “Ah, that’s what they were called.”
“Remodeling—Daggers!” A quick burst of light replaced the two clumps of metal with a pair of long daggers.
Sadly, anyone could have seen that it was too late. The fearsome beast was only seconds from its prey, while Reylor was nearly mile out, and his weapon of choice clearly showed that he was not a conjourer (magician specializing in barriers and ranged magic).
It was painfully clear to the children that their time was over, as the wolf strained every sinew, putting its entire might into one mighty leap.
And to Reylor, it was even clearer.
“Spacial art: Void Transfer”
“Thud!”
In a moment—nay, an instant—Reylor had traveled to a point right between the predator and would-be victims.
The impact knocked the breath right out of him, as the wolf threw him backward. Reylor carefully stood back up, as he tried to regain his breath.
“Grrrrowl”
The wolf could not understand what had just happened, but what it did know, was that this strange person definitely was not something good.
The wolf circled its new target.
Alright, this should give them enough time to get away. Reylor thought to himself.
The wolf leapt, and Reylor dodged with nearly superhuman reflexes, also taking advantage of the chance to dig a dagger into the wolf’s side.
The wolf snarled before resuming its circles. Also, the wound on its side closed up, much to Reylor’s surprise and dismay.
Another leap.
“Riiiip!”
This time he was just a bit slow, allowing the wolf’s razor-like claws to slash into his left arm.
What in the universe are these abominations? Reylor focused, unmindful of the red drops slowly painting the grass beneath him.
Believing the children to be safe, his mind now turned to other thoughts. Do these things not die? What should I do? If I run, who knows what will happen to the village, but this thing…
“Pull back friend, we’ll take it from here!” A lout voice boomed from behind him.
He quickly glanced back before activating his transfer skill again to land behind an odd assortment of people. The one who called out was a burly man, wielding a sword, which was too large to be a longsword, yet not quite thick enough to be called a greatsword. Beside him was a lady clad in a white mage robe, including a hood which made her features indistinguishable. Running behind them were three others, each with a sword at their side and a lance in hand.
The woman in white sounded out a chant in her smooth, glass-like voice. The wolf’s movements became sluggish.
“Now!” the large man’s voice bellowed out.
“Whoosh, whoosh, whoosh” “Thud, thud, psh”
The three lance bearers skirted around the other two, surrounding and attempting to spear the wolf with their lances. One missed, embedding itself in the grassy soil.
“Pull ‘em tight!” The man again bellowed out.
The lances were attached to ropes, sort of like harpoons, which the two successful lancers pulled tight.
More chanting from the woman
The black aura around the wolf lessened and faded into a dark gray
“Ready,” the glassy voice said, in almost a whisper.
The large man explosively lunged forward, decapitating the wolf with a single swing as he passed by it. The creature fell down as the gray energy dispersed, revealing what appeared to be a normal gray wolf.
“Hey kid, you new aroud here?” The big man said, after returning to where Reylor and the mage stood.
“Brent.” With a voice like that, one did not even need to look to know the mage was glaring at the man.
“Oh, yeah, I guess we should do introductions first. Name’s Brent, offically the head of Splendor’s huntsmen guild, though Queen’s words seem to hold more weight around here.” Brent motioned toward the mage with a chuckle.
Would you mind if we got your name?
Reylor Seldin. I’m not from around here.
“Not from around here? You tried to fight a shade wolf with those—things—for crying out loud!” Brent nearly doubled over from laughter.
Seeing Reylor’s blank look, Brent calmed down a bit. “Let me enlighten you a bit.” He glanced over at the lancers to confirm that they were disposing of the wolf. “These guys are what you call shades. They seem to be infected by some sort of disease that affects theie eyes and some other things, as I am sure you have noticed. They are the ultimate dark monsters, as only light attribute magic seems to be able to get through to them. Normal attacks will just make them mad, as the wounds inflicted will just reheal, even if you cut off a limb or even their head. So in order to kill them, you need to purify them, kill them with light/holy magic, kill them with a blessed sword, or break this tiny little crystal in them that only the gods know where is. So in other words, those little toys are pretty much useless against them.”
…
“Well, you did alright in stalling for those munchkins, though, so thank you. Oh—and Queen, if you would?”
The mage, who apparently was called “Queen” uttered another chant.
A stream of soft white light came from her staff, enveloping Reylor and healing his wounds.
“Uh, thanks,” he said somewhat absently, his mind still digesting everything that had just happened.
“Where are you headed?” Queen asked in a soft, though cold voice.
“I do not know,” Reylor answered the mage.
“In that case, why don’t you come and stay with us for now?”
“Might as well. I’ll take you up on that.”
“Good, come with us.”