The mass of fire that manifested between him and the bobcat put the one that Edmun had nearly ended his own life with to shame, causing the beast to let out a hiss-like growl as its eyes were suddenly flooded with a strong source of light. This was the least of its worries, however, for the moment it had freed its head from the ice, the deadly cat had committed to a great leap that saw it sail right into the unsuspecting blaze, which easily stood at the height of two men with a slightly longer width and length.

Alistar had cancelled his ocular spell prior to casting the candle lighting spell—which, without so many of his limiters, had manifested as anything but the rudimentary magic that it was meant to be—so unlike the bobcat he didn’t suffer from momentary blindness. The second that he’d summoned the raging flames, he had rolled to the side just in time to avoid the flaming animal as it crashed into the tree behind him and began to thrash around with wild abandon. It was at this juncture that Alistar took the opportunity to flee, running parallel to the wall as the bobcat’s cries continued to pierce through the darkness like the voice of a traumatizing nightmare.

Noticing that the beast had no intentions to give chase, Alistar slowed his steps and turned around, seeing that his cloak had been shredded in several places along the hem. The bobcat must have swiped at him with its claws in the moment that he had jumped over its head, which told him that he had only kept his left leg on a whim.

Crashing into trees and tripping over roots, the beast fled into the forest in a mindless effort to save its life, but Alistar wasn’t about to let it escape, not now that he realized that he had won the fight. Sure, he could let it burn to death over the course of the coming minutes, but as he stood there high on adrenaline while watching as his foe fled into the forest, he was taken by a sudden desire to see the fight through to completion with his own two hands. Such a thought would never have crossed his mind were he in a sober state, but the rush of nearly dying a dozen times within less than a minute had left him reluctant to let things end in such a way.

Throwing an arm out and collecting the spikes of ice from earlier along with the remnants of the globe that sat scattered around the base of the wall in misshapen chunks and shards, he sprinted after the erratic bobcat at his fastest speed, legs strengthened by his rapidly depleting reserves of swordsman’s aura as he quickly closed the distance between him and the blind, burning beast.

Casting the night cat’s eyes spell on his left eye only, he converted all of the ice into water and then let it all fall onto the bobcat’s back with a hiss of steam, altering the grip on his sword so that the virgin blade was pointed downwards. Leaping into the air, he landed atop the beast’s back while making use of the basic stability spell, maintaining his footing for the fraction of a second that he needed in order to stab the tip of his sword into the base of the bobcat’s neck, aiming for its spinal cord. Half-roaring and half-crying, it bucked like a bull and flipped over onto its back in an effort to shake him off, though he was quick to jump to safety. Lashing out with a weak paw, it finally lost the last of its strength and died on the spot, its body still on fire in all places but the area where Alistar had landed.

Crawling away from the carcass, which reeked of burnt fur and charred flesh, Alistar turned over on his back and then propped himself up on his hands, staring at the dead animal with wide eyes and a heaving chest. Only one thought crossed his mind as he watched the carcass burn.

I did it.

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As he gradually, albeit very slowly, began to calm down, a cold yet hot feeling on his left hand drew his gaze, at which point he realized that his index finger had been sliced off by the bobcats dying attack. Not only that, but some of his clothes were on fire, though these flames disappeared with an instinctual, absentminded thought.

Looking at the raw flesh and bone where his finger had been, Alistar fell into shock as the small stump continued to spurt large amounts of blood. His immediate instinct was to stop the bleeding with his mending spell, but a sudden thought saw him scrambling back over to the animal’s flaming body where he sensed a fading bit of his own aura. Locating his finger without any trouble, he placed its base against the open wound, hands trembling as blood continued to spill down them in sickly, warm streams. It was then that he finally felt the pain, as shock and adrenaline gave way to the worst physical sensation that he had ever experienced. He didn’t hesitate to cast his mending spell, which slowly but surely joined the severed skin back together, reattaching and repairing the insides of his finger over the course of the minutes that followed. Remarkably, the injury was completely healed by the time he cancelled his magics, to the point that it felt no different than before aside from a harmless, pervasive itch.

He chalked up the incredible healing ability to the fact that he was currently without several of his limiters, which were still scattered around the area near the wall where one had been discarded and the others from earlier had fallen out of his pocket. After what he’d just experienced, it dawned on him that his affinity for healing magics clearly wasn’t normal. He didn’t get to enjoy this pleasant realization, however, for a sudden sound of crunching leaves prompted him to turn his head, his heart going cold as he came nose to nose with another dark-maned bobcat that was significantly larger than the one that he’d just killed. It was almost as big as Star.

He didn’t move, didn’t breathe, didn’t think. All he could do was prepare for death.

***

Tramon drew a loose fold of his cloak inward, silently cursing the late-night cold. Although a lot of people were infatuated with the beauty of winter, it was his least favourite season and had been since the early days of his youth. Sure, sometimes it could be quite pleasant, with moderate temperatures and large amounts of snow to decorate the landscape with a natural sort of charm, but most days tended to be like today; cold, dreary and lifeless.

Blasted disciple of mine, always causing me problems…

Thinking about the nature of his trip, Tramon felt no anger towards Alistar despite his thoughts, for he was a man of principle and thus was not one to nitpick about the sorts of things that were required by a mentor in times of uncertainty. Still, he could have done without his horse being bitten by a mutated barkwood spider on the return part of his journey, which had left him wandering down the Winding Road with only a flask of fire whiskey for company.

Sighing to himself as a chilling breeze swept across the empty road, he continued on through the mountainous wilderness while taking the occasional sip of his cherished drink. Dressed in a long grey cloak atop thick winter clothes, he sported his treasured sword at his hip and a small crate that was tied to his back with thick leather straps, its confines containing a dozen corked bottles of the delicious spirits along with a generous heaping of hay to keep the glass from breaking. Yes, he thought, the only thing he missed about Valay was the fact that it was the only place that he could get his hands on his favourite drink outside of Loyarre, a kingdom that he had no interest in visiting now that it had degenerated into a lawless land.

Although he’d cut back on drinking after realizing the true scope of his disciple’s potential—not wanting to hinder the boy’s progress with his poor habits—fire whiskey was quite difficult to come by and he had long since run out of his precious stash. Alone on a long, dark road, who could blame him for indulging just a bit?

“I wonder how the boy’s doing?” he thought aloud, musing to himself that a simple assassination attempt wouldn’t deter Alistar from continuing on with his endeavours. “Hmm, probably overworking himself, as usual.”