"I'm glad that you two are still alive, even if barely," Master Blackwood proclaimed, his face revealing a flicker of relief as he surveyed Anton and Maria's battered forms. His voice carried the weight of both concern and authority as he moved his hands, casting a spell of restoration.
Warmth flooded through Anton's limbs. The magical energy coursed through his veins like liquid sunlight, knitting torn muscles and replenishing the strength he had exhausted during their desperate battle against the monstrous abomination that was still in flames before them.
"How did you find us, Master?" Anton asked, his voice stronger now though still tinged with awe.
Master Blackwood's lips curled into a knowing smile, the lines around his eyes deepening. "Do you truly believe I would let my two most promising protégés venture into the Deep Forest without any safeguards?" He reached into his robes and produced a small rune paper identical to the one Maria had activated. "I embedded a tracking enchantment within the alert rune paper I gave to Maria. The moment she activated that distress signal, your location revealed itself to me like a beacon."
With another flick of his hand, the world around Anton blurred and compressed, and suddenly he and Maria were levitated beside their master in the air, several meters above their previous position.
"A teleportation spell," Anton thought in wonderment, his stomach still adjusting to the sudden displacement.
Below them, the flames engulfing the abomination began to diminish, yet the creature continued to thrash with unnatural vigor. Master Blackwood's brow furrowed as he observed its resilience.
"Most curious," he murmured. "Few beings should survive a direct strike from a great mage level spell."
His attention turned to his apprentices, his gaze intense. "Maria, Anton. Pay close attention. You both have the potential to become great mages. Now, I shall show you what makes great mages so feared throughout the realms."
Anton and Maria exchanged a glance before nodding in unison. "Yes, Master," they replied, their voices blending in reverent anticipation.
Master Blackwood raised both arms toward the heavens. "What you are about to witness is called a combination spell. Starting from advanced level, every mage develops their own unique combination spell.It's a convergence of all of their innate spells. This particular combination spell that I am casting now is of great mage level."
Three distinct runic patterns materialized above Master Blackwood, each shining with different colors: crimson, gold, and azure. The patterns began to rotate, gradually overlapping until they merged into a single, extraordinarily complex rune that seemed to burn itself into the very fabric of reality.
"Dancing Phoenix," Master Blackwood intoned, his voice resonating with power.
The air shimmered and tore as a magnificent phoenix emerged from the unified rune, its body composed entirely of living flame. Larger than a house, the majestic beast spread wings of fire and embers, its eyes gleaming with sentient purpose.
Anton gasped at the creature's beauty and terrible might. Without any verbal command from their master, the phoenix descended upon the abomination.
The phoenix attacked with devastating precision. Its talons pierced through corrupted flesh, leaving cauterized wounds in their wake. It summoned spiraling pillars of fire that engulfed the body of the creature. Balls of concentrated flame erupted from its wings, striking with unerring accuracy at what appeared to be vital points in the creature's bizarre anatomy.
For over a minute, the phoenix attacked with its deadly dance, until nothing remained of the abomination but charred remains and a final, unearthly scream that echoed through the forest before fading into silence.
After the phoenix dissipated, Master Blackwood moved closer to his apprentices, his expression grave. "How did you manage to provoke such a fearsome creature? In all my studies, I've never encountered a creature like this. Creatures of this level typically only emerge during the beast tides."
Maria moved forward, her shoulders squared despite her exhaustion. "The beast has been stalking us since we first entered the forest's deep layer, Master," she explained, her voice steady but respectful. "I guessed that it was consuming the remains of all the magical creatures we defeated, somehow assimilating their abilities and attributes with each feeding."
She pushed a strand of blood-matted hair from her face. "It might have only confronted us directly today because it sensed we were preparing to leave the forest. I believe it didn't want to lose its... food source."
Master Blackwood seemed to be thinking intensely for a moment. "Most concerning indeed. Such adaptive predatory behavior suggests intelligence beyond bestial instinct." He glanced down at the smoldering remains. "I shall take this specimen back for thorough examination. The guild must be informed if a new classification of creature has emerged from these woods."
He studied his apprentices with a critical eye. "You two can still maintain consciousness, yes? The journey back is not insignificant."
Anton felt his body swaying slightly, but he nodded alongside Maria. The master's healing spell had restored his critical functions, but profound exhaustion was settling into his bones.
Master Blackwood descended to collect the creature's remains, carefully binding them with containment spells and shrinking the mass to a more manageable size.
As their master worked, Anton felt his strength draining rapidly. The magical restoration was wearing off, and the full weight of their ordeal crashed upon him like a collapsing stone wall.
"Maria," he whispered, his voice faint as he struggled to remain upright in the air, maintained only by their master's lingering spell. "I need to rest... just for a moment."
His eyelids grew impossibly heavy, the world around him blurring at the edges. He could see Maria's alarmed expression swimming before him, her mouth forming words he could no longer hear clearly.
As darkness crept in from the periphery of his vision, the last thing Anton heard was Maria's desperate voice cutting through his fading consciousness.
"Annie! Annie! Don't fall asleep now, Annie!"
Then nothing but darkness claimed him.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
The gentle chorus of birds chirping brought Anton out from the depths of unconsciousness. His eyelids opened to reveal an unfamiliar ceiling. He found himself nestled in a soft bed. Well this certainly was not his home. A moment of disorientation washed over him before his memories gradually reassembled themselves.
He wasn't in the pasture with his flock of sheep and loyal Meeks by his side, which meant he hadn't "reset" as he'd initially feared. The expedition, the forest, the monstrous creature, Master Blackwood's intervention, it all came flooding back gradually.
Anton attempted to get up, but his body refused to cooperate. Every limb felt as though it had been replaced with lead, being able to do only the slightest movements. With considerable effort, he managed to turn his head toward a neighboring bed where another figure lay motionless. The face stirred something in his memory. This was one of the mages from another expedition team. The realization settled over him. They were in the healing ward, survivors of what must have been a perilous expedition for all involved.
Unable to do much else, Anton surrendered to his exhaustion and drifted back into dreamless sleep.
Later that afternoon, he awakened to the gentle touch of the healing priestess examining him. Her hands glowed with a soft golden light as she assessed his condition.
"You're recovering well, young man," she said, her voice melodic and reassuring. "Your family has been waiting rather impatiently to see you. Do you feel strong enough for visitors?"
Anton managed a weak nod. "Yes, please. I'd like to see them."
The priestess smiled and departed, returning moments later with his anxious family in tow. His mother Orla rushed to his bedside, her eyes glistening with unshed tears as she carefully embraced him.
"Oh, Annie," she whispered, her voice breaking slightly. "When we heard about the expedition... about what happened in the forest..."
"I'm alright, Mother," Anton reassured her, squeezing her hand weakly. "A bit worn down, but I'll recover."
His father Thonar stood at the foot of the bed, his weathered face etched with concern. Yet beneath his worries, Anton could see an unmistakable pride in his father's eyes. It was the quiet approval of a man who valued courage and resilience.
"You've done well, son," Thonar said, his deep voice resonating in the small room. "Master Blackwood himself came to tell us how you conducted yourself out there. Said you showed the makings of a true mage."
Anton felt a bit of happiness at the unexpected praise. "I only did what I had to, Father."
"And that's precisely what makes the difference," Thonar replied, a rare smile softening his stern features.
Their exchange was interrupted by a small whirlwind that launched itself onto Anton's bed. His little sister Muri flung her arms around him, burying her tear-streaked face against his chest.
"You promised you'd be careful!" she complained between her sobs. "Everyone was saying terrible things about the forest and the monsters, and I was so scared for you!"
Anton winced at the impact but managed to stroke her hair soothingly. "I'm sorry I worried you little Muri."
Muri pulled back, her eyes red-rimmed but fierce. "Next time, you have to teach me magic first," she declared with all the gravity a eight-year-old could muster. "Then I can come and rescue you from those beasts."
"Is that so?" Anton chuckled, despite the pain it caused. "And what spell would you cast against a forest monster?"
Muri didn't hesitate. "A turning-them-into-frogs spell! Then they'd be too small to hurt anyone."
This prompted laughter from the entire family, dissolving some of the tension that had built in the room.
"A fine solution," Anton conceded while laughing. "When I'm well, we can start with some basic spells. Though perhaps we should master lighting candles before shooting out frog transformations."
As they continued their reunion, Anton felt profoundly grateful. No matter what challenges he faced in the world, his family remained by his side with their unwavering support. After his family departed with promises to return the following day, Anton had scarcely settled back against his pillows when more visitors arrived. They were his fellow expedition members.
Haldir entered first, his right arm bandaged but otherwise appearing unscathed. Behind him the two warriors, Ruk and Zog, both moving with the careful deliberation of men still healing from significant injuries.
"There he is our man of the hour!" Haldir exclaimed, settling into the chair beside Anton's bed. "The healers said you'd finally rejoined the land of the living."
"Barely," Anton admitted. "What happened after I... after I lost consciousness?"
Ruk eased himself into an empty chair nearby. "Master Blackwood brought us all back. You, Maria, and what remained of that... thing." He shuddered visibly at the memory.
Haldir leaned closer to Anton, his voice dropping to a whisper. "It's been five days since we returned from Malor Forest. These two here only spent three days in recovery, but Maria, she's still in the women's ward. Her enchantment spell drained her severely. Physically she's healing, but she had to stay in the ward for a few more day" He made a gesture suggesting mana depletion.
Anton's stomach tightened with concern for his fellow apprentice. "And the other teams?"
A shadow passed over Haldir's features as he glanced toward other patients who were yet to awake to ensure they wouldn't be overheard. "Out of the five groups that entered the forest, only four returned."
The words settled over Anton like a shroud.
"Volatz's team," Zog murmured, naming the leader of the fifth expedition group. "All five of them, gone without a trace."
"The Guild mages attempted to locate them through their rune papers. You know the same kind that saved our hides," Haldir continued. "But there was nothing. No signal, no trace. It's as if they simply... vanished."
Ruk shifted uncomfortably. "The whole city's on edge. Guards are being doubled on the walls, and the Guild has called in mages out on missions to the other regions."
"The whispers in the taverns all say the same thing," Ruk added grimly. "Beast tide." As usual, Zog just simply nodded in agreement.
Anton felt a chill race down his spine at those words. "But that can't be right," Anton protested. "I thought we still have three more years until the next one."
Haldir's expression remained grave. "Unless something's changed. That creature we encountered. Master Blackwood said he'd never seen something like it before. What if it's just the beginning of something new? Something worse?"
The four men fell into troubled silence, each contemplating the implications. Anton stared at the ceiling, relief at his survival now tangled with growing apprehension about what might lie ahead.
The world outside their recovery ward continued its daily rhythms, oblivious to the shadow that might soon fall across it. A shadow that Anton and his companions had glimpsed in the depths of Malor Forest, and that now seemed to be stretching toward Kirkvalor, their home.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Five days ago, deep within the shadowed heart of Malor Forest, after Master Blackwood vanquished the flesh abomination, another presence dwelled in darkness.
In a structure that defied natural architecture, a figure hunched over an enchantment desk, meticulously carving eldritch runes into a pulsating chunk of living tissue. The man's hands moved with practiced precision, his fingers stained with substances best left unidentified. His concentration was absolute until, suddenly, he froze.
His head snapped upward, eyes fixing on the ceiling as though he could peer through it to the distant skies. A shiver passed through him not of fear, but sheer disappointment.
"Oh," he whispered, his voice carrying the kind of disappointment of a craftsman whose work had been destroyed. "It got exterminated."
He placed his engraving tools down with deliberate care and rose from his chair, stretching limbs that had been still for hours. The sigh that escaped his lips held genuine regret.
The chamber around him might have appeared mundane at first glance. It looked like a scholar's workroom with shelves of jars, books, and instruments but the flickering candlelight revealed the true horror of his sanctuary. The walls themselves pulsed with subtle rhythm, veins and capillaries visibly transporting fluids throughout the structure. What appeared to be wooden furniture from a distance revealed itself as compressed and transmuted flesh, shaped and hardened into functional forms yet retaining an unmistakable organic quality.
Every surface, every object within the room had once been living tissue, harvested and repurposed through means unimaginable.
A thought surfaced in his mind "It seems I need to feed them better food. Not just some random magical beasts from the forest,", running his fingertips along the wall, feeling it quiver beneath his touch like an eager pet. "Something more...."
The man crossed to a nearby cabinet. It was also crafted from what might have once been rib cages and spinal columns of a bear. He then retrieved a glass jar. Inside, a small mass of flesh twitched and pulsed, pressing against the glass as though sensing its master's presence.
"Patience" he crooned, tapping the glass affectionately.
With the jar cradled carefully in his hands, he departed his workshop, descending a staircase that seemed to contract and expand with each step, as though it was breathing. The stairs led to a basement level.
The basement had been fashioned into a prison. Cages lined the walls, most empty, but one large enclosure contained five figures. Their limbs had been systematically melted and reformed, fusing with the floor of their prison so that they existed as little more than torsos with heads, unable to move, escape, or even properly writhe in their agony.
Their moans intensified at the sight of their captor, a response born from the knowledge that his presence inevitably brought new suffering.
One prisoner, a man whose face still retained traces of defiance despite his grotesque transformation, wore the tattered remains of robes bearing the silver and blue sigil of the Mages Guild. His eyes, sunken but defiant, fixed on their tormentor. It was Volatz, the leader of the missing expedition team.
"Torture us... however you want," the mage rasped, voice raw from screaming yet still carrying conviction. "You will... extract no information from us."
The captor paused, genuinely surprised by the outburst, before laughter bubbled from his throat with a sound incongruously melodious for one capable of such atrocities.
"No, no, my esteemed guest," he replied, approaching the cage with measured steps. "You misunderstand your purpose entirely. I have no interest in your information. I already have everything I need." He held up the jar, allowing the captives to see the writhing mass within. "I merely require you to be suitable nourishment for this little guy here."
The captor unscrewed the jar and with a casual flick of his wrist, he tossed the fleshy fragment through the bars of the cage. It landed on the defiant mage's head, instantly adhering to his scalp.
"No—NO!" The mage's scream escalated as the small mass began to burrow inward, creating visible undulations beneath his scalp as it tunneled deeper.
He ascended the stairs with unhurried steps without even looking back, returning to his workshop and settling once more before his enchantment desk. He resumed his rune carving with renewed focus, seemingly unperturbed by the escalating symphony of agony emanating from below.
The screams echoed throughout the living structure, a sound so primal and terrible that even the walls themselves seemed to quiver in sympathetic horror. Veins pulsed more rapidly; membranes contracted in what might have been interpreted as distress.
Yet the architect of this abomination continued his work undisturbed, humming softly to himself as the sounds of transformation and consumption reached their peak beneath his feet.
And he was excited to see the evolution of the flesh when it was ready.