Lore/Story Prodigy - A Wynncraft Adventure

Prodigy
A WynnCraft Adventure

Table of Contents:
-Prologue (complete)
1. 19 Years Later (complete)
2. The truth at last (complete)
3. Undead Attack (complete)
4. Rescue's & Allies (complete)
5. Trouble, most foul (complete)
6. An Interesting Individual (complete)
7. Unsuspected Assault
8. Interrogation
9. Team Daniel
10. Ambushed
11. Forced to kill
12. Race to Almuj
13. Death in the family
14. Visions
- Epilogue

Note: This is a legitimate novel-sized lore, so enjoy it & be patient with it's progress :D

Featuring:
@Toxicdrule
@yosteric5
@Voidfire999
@steveultra3
@Rawb
@I'm Illuminati
And more...

-Prologue​

Spoiler: Prologue - part one

The sun’s first rays of morning light shone through the small clouds weakly, as it found and embraced the damp ground. The grass, once green, was now resembling a small and sticky marsh, pushed and trodden on by thousands of war boots. The sound of waves crashing against jagged rocks in a small pebbly cove nearby drifted through the air, and a Gigantic ancient church stood wearily against the sky, giving the impression of an oddly shaped rook. An equally old graveyard stood beside it, with a gap between used as a gravel road. The clouds were pushed further past, and the sunlight was caught in a horrible scene.

Our story begins in one of many old battlefields littered across the province of Wynn, a place you will know very well of soon. Weapons and trinkets scattered on this ghastly field of death are the only memories left that proves a terrible battle was fought here. Rusted helmets, axes, spears & broken armour lay peacefully in the blood splashed mud, slowly sinking into the ground. As this occurred, a splintered bow with strange runes etched across it was sinking, inch by inch into the death-reeking mud, when suddenly -

CRACK! The wheels of a horse ridden war-carriage, followed by a group of men-ridden horses ran straight over the bow, causing it to break with a loud snap. The carriage was in a hurry, as the driver feverishly cracked the reins, speeding up the frightened and exhausted horses. They had been driving for a long time, almost half the distance of the entire province, and had not stopped for anything. The carriage’s occupants needed to get somewhere very urgently. Who was in the carriage, you ask?

The small quarters of the car belonged to a tired, armour laden warrior, his chiselled face covered with stubble, dark rings beneath his eyes. He shared the carriage with a young beautiful woman, with tan skin, as if she had lived in a desert her whole life (which she had.) she wore an exotic shawl, covered by a thick woolly coat. In her arms was a small child, wrapped with bundles of blankets, fast asleep.

And now we see our hero of the story the first time, as a one year-old baby, in the arms of his soon-to-be unfortunate mother.

She was quietly rocking the baby back and forth, whispering good thoughts to him. The Warrior looked up irritably at the woman. “Maya,” he whispered. “He’s already asleep, there’s no need to talk to him like that.”

Maya peered at him, a look of annoyance on her pretty face. “He is our son, Benjamin,” she replied stubbornly. “There is always a need to tell him great things.”

“Like what?” Ben asked innocently. Maya sighed, and turned her head to the window. “Like you, my husband.”

She raised the baby up, and looked into his just opened eyes. He had a peculiar set of pupils; one a shade of light blue, the other a dark green. “He has both our eyes,” she said. The baby didn't like being awoken suddenly, and started to cry, almond-shaped tears falling from his small face. She laid the baby down on her lap, and started to rock him again. “He will know your bravery and courage,” she said. “Maybe one day you will teach him magic, yes?”

She was looking at Ben again, her green eyes meeting his blue. “Maybe,” He answered, staring at his son with a mixture of uncertainty and pride. “He might not even have the ability to do so.”

The carriage unexpectedly slowed. Ben looked once at his wife, confused, then turned away from the wall and tapped on it twice. “Driver!” He said loudly. “Why are we stopping? we’re in a hurry, remember?”

The carriage slowed to a halt. Ben cursed. “If one of the wheels are broken again, I’m going to have a harsh talk to the driver on which roads we need to drive on -

But before he could open the door, a flaming arrow whizzed past, inches from the stained window. Ben’s eye’s widened with surprise. ”What the-” he exclaimed. He looked back. “Maya, keep him safe,” he instructed. “I’ll deal with this.”

She nodded, thoughts and fear going round and round in her head - not for her, but for her newly born son.

Checking to see the coast was clear, Ben opened the carriage door and hurriedly leaped out, slamming it shut after him. Maya rushed over to the window, looking outside.

He grabbed one of his guards, a skilled archer, with fear etched around his face, by the shoulder. “Who’s attacking? Have we got a visual?” he asked, a little too hard on the man.

“No sir, they’ve only fired at least three shots,” He replied, his eye’s on the direction the arrow came from, a large hill. “it may be a group of undead bandits, they’ve been seen around this area.”

Ben cursed, and let go of the archer’s shoulder. He walked heavily up the gravel path, towards the hill, and with the menace of wanting to slit a throat, he unsheathed his spear.

It was a weapon of pure craftsmanship - and destruction. The long handle had been polished time and time again, until the wood no longer needed to be polished. It was engraved with tiny golden runes, and the bottom was topped with small dual blades, like a pair of wings. But the blade itself, 12 inches of magick-enhanced sharpened steel, was the prize jewel.

Ben raised the weapon. “SHOW YOURSELVES!” he bellowed. “I want to see the face of whoever dared tried to harm my companions, before I kill them!”

There was silence, as if there was no-one there, that Ben was simply hallucinating. Then…

A massive, dark shape rose from the ground on the hill. The thing itself was simply shadow - black waves wove around it like a disturbed puddle. The monstrosity reared its head, giving Ben goosebumps on his neck. “WHO ARE YOU?!” He shouted, a flicker of fear in his rasping voice.

The shadow’s revolving around the shape dissolved, and the men could finally see the monster for what it really was -

A tall menacing figure, twice the size of an ordinary man, with robes darker than pitch black, a slightly smoking chestplate made of a mysterious metal placed on its chest. Its face was unrecognisable, its hood pulled over the creature’s eyes, shadowing any other feature. The only visible skin was its hands - a ghoulish blue colour, rotten with scabs, slime (or vapour?) dripping off and disappearing on the ground. One of them was holding a massive scythe, the curved hook blade gleaming in the dull sun. It seemed to have a layer around it, pulsing with a strange aura.

The archers aimed immediately at the monster. The only mage was muttering a long incantation under his breath, and the two other warriors walked up and stood by Ben. “You have no business here, corrupted being!” cried one of the archers, an arrow nocked in his string, aimed directly at the creature’s head.

“We will let you live, if you step aside,” the warrior on the left added. The monster was silent, as if it was thinking. Then -

A rumbling sound came from within the hood of the thing. It was laughing at them, a gurgling, deep throttle, like the sound a shoe makes when it splashes into mud.

Ben frowned. Something wasn’t right here. Why was it laughing? And - wasn’t it an arrow that was shot at them? the creature was holding a scythe, not a bow...

His eye’s widened as he came to a sudden conclusion. “Fall back,” he said to his men. “Fall back now. He’s got -"

“Foolish humans!” the voice of the hooded being rumbled from its hidden mouth, interrupting Ben’s sentence. “I may be powerful, but I am not idiotic enough to come alone.”

All around them, undeads fluidly leaped from their hiding spots in the dense trees, landing with a thud on the ground. Zombie soldiers, mages and skeleton archers readied their weapons, decaying faces snarling at the humans. The men quickly formed into a circle, careful not to break ranks.

Ben turned back to face the leader. “If you’re so “powerful”, then how come I’ve never heard of you?” he asked boldly. “I’ve traveled through the entire province during this war. I don’t believe I’ve ever heard talk of a ghoul wielding a scythe heavier than itself.”

He thought he heard a snarl of anger coming from the hooded leader. it impatiently hit the ground with the bottom of its dreadful scythe. “I, am Charon!” he screeched. “Once the ferryman of the nether, now condemned to roam this pitiful place you call the province of Wynn.”

He spat, his unnatural saliva landing in front of Ben’s feet, evaporating before his eyes. He stared back up at Charon with his steely gaze. “And what is it, exactly, that you want with us?” He asked. His voice sounded calm, but his men could sense the anger trembling in his throat.

Charon tilted his head at his human foe’s, apparently unimpressed. “There is one among you that shines with magic the most painfully. We sensed him while patrolling for human survivors in ancient Nemract. Give him to us,” He offered coldly, “And we will spare the rest of you.”

The warrior on the right of Ben leant over to him. “Sir, what do we do?” He whispered. “They have us trapped, we need to give Charon what it wants -

“I am not going to sell one of my own men just so the undead get a quick meal!” Ben exploded at the warrior. He turned once again to Charon. “I do not accept your terms, Charon,” He replied angrily to the dark figure. “ You take none of us, or you take all of our cold, dead bodies.”

Charon’s head tilted straight. He spat with his horrid deep, rumbling voice. “So be it.”

He made a hand gesture for the undead to attack, and everything fell into chaos.

The mage had just finished muttering his spell, and a large, lightning-blue dome grew up from the ground with a loud unnatural shimmering sound, connecting at the top just before the rotting armour-clad skeleton archers released their bow strings with a small *Twang!* But the arrows either fell short or bounced off the gigantic blue shield. Ben rushed to the young mage, who was now kneeling over, exhausted. “Good job, private,” He said gratefully, as a warrior picked him up carefully. “Another second there and we would have been stuffed like porcupines.”

“Had to - do - something,” The mage said. “But it’s, drained most of my magic - I need to rest…”

The young tired man fell fast asleep in the warrior’s arms. Ben looked at the warrior. “Get him behind the carriage,” He instructed. The warrior nodded with understanding, and carried him over to the sheltered side of the carriage.

“SIR!” one of the archers shouted to Ben. “The dome is breaking! their arrows are starting to get through!”

“Dammit,” Ben muttered over the shouts of the hustling men and the undead’s snarling and moaning. “Form a line, facing the enemy! I don’t want to see a single gap!”

The cracks on the blue dome grew bigger and bigger with every arrow launched from the undeads bows, like a freakish tree growing incredibly fast. The men formed the line, a heaving wall of bristling spears and nocked arrows. Their dirt smudged faces grew grim with every rotting hand and bent iron sword hammering the mystic blue shield, slowly weakening it, until-

The bubble shattered, and a surge of undead feverishly swarmed into the clearing, eager to finish the tired war-beaten men. The soldiers yelled, and sprinted to the enemy, summoning all of their courage just to put another step ahead. The two lines clashed like waves, brutish rusting swords clanging against shining spears, arrows from both sides flying through the air. It was pure chaos. And in the center of it all was Ben, his spear flashing around him like a lions outstretched paw, ending his prey’s life. His face was terrible in anger, concentration sparking in his eye’s, blood from undead spraying across his armour, colouring it a dark shade of unpleasant green.

Ben quickly impaled a zombie from behind, and heaved the body over his shoulder, launching it to land on top of another surprised golden-clad zombie, pinning the groaning heap to the floor. Two skeleton archers appeared before him, their peeling bows aimed right between Ben’s eye’s. He flicked his spear, and the ground around the skeletons shuddered like a miniature earthquake. The dirt crumbled beneath their boots, causing the skeletons to trip and drop their bows with a *thud*. Ben rushed forward, and brought his spear around in an arc. It landed on the first skeletal archers mouldy leather helmet, slicing through leather - and the entire skull. The skeleton, which was kept together by corruption in the first place, fell apart, its main form of processing destroyed, now nothing but a pile of bones. The other skeleton stepped back, fear clouding its already dull mind. Ben grinned, and leaped towards it, swinging the spear up, uppercutting the undead into the sky. The force of the spell was too much for the skeleton, as it shuddered violently and exploded mid-air. small remains fell back to the blood covered road, like heavy white raindrops.

* * * * *​

The dark shadow known as Charon had reappeared further from the fray, resting his magnificent scythe in the mud-soaked, trampled grass. He could see the entire fight from the hill, not even bothering to enter the battle. But now, he thought with a leer, this commander was starting to get on his nerves.

But despite him being the most skilled human there, Charon could sense that the clean magic emanating from him wasn’t as powerful as the surge of magic he sensed earlier. Which meant the annoying human wasn’t here. Which meant -

“They all need to die,” Charon growled to his iron-clad skeleton guard. “The bright one is not here. These humans must be eliminated. AND IF YOU CAN’T DO IT FOR ME,” he shouted to his followers over the din of battle, “THEN I WILL HAVE TO DO IT MYSELF!”

He leapt from his observing spot on the hill, unnaturally soaring through the air - and landed on top of an unfortunate Archer. He fell on his stomach, gasping under the pressure of Charon. He laughed horribly at the man’s pitiful attempts to throw him off, by desperately grabbing and pulling at his robe. He considered for a moment, then swung his scythe down into his head, where it lodged itself, blood trickling over his now lifeless eyes. “Consider that, as the end of your suffering, human,” he said quietly to the body. The rest of the humans stared, horrified.

“GAAAAH!” Shouted one of the humans. The tear-rushed warrior pushed past his commander and sprinted at Charon, his spear raised, shouting something dreadful.

Charon sighed, and swung his scythe through the air again. The human stopped in his tracks, and looked down at his own body, a dark red line ripped across his torso. He looked up once more at Charon, and - to Charon’s disgust - almost looked like he was at peace.

Then his body split in half and fell to the ground. Charon checked his scythe with satisfaction, running his thin bony finger over the edge, pleased with the humans horror and the respect he sensed from his undead brothers. “Come one, come all,” He said eerily to the soldiers, as he walked forward, flinging his scythe in his hand.

* * * * *​

Ben couldn’t believe what was happening. His soldiers - some of them, best friends - had been holding out against the swarm of the undead just fine, it even seemed like they were winning. But their leader just had to enter the fight.

His scythe was spinning through the air, slicing his comrades left and right, like a frenzy of gunpowder imps. He couldn’t do anything, he was just too fast -

Charon’s scythe hit the only mage, the last soldier, right in the side of his head, completely lopping it off. His body fell to the ground limply. The head rolled, and stopped at his feet, his face barely visible, a bloody mess of torn flesh. Ben sighed with despair, and prayed to the gods of Wynn that the mage’s soul would find a new body, and start a new and better life. Then he remembered Charon, and anger rushed through him. He looked back up to his undead foe, his eye’s wet but unblinking.

Charon placed the hilt of his scythe on the blood drenched mud, and leant on it, supposedly tired from the bloodshed. But Ben knew better. “You know, I was offered to become the herald of death once,” He said in his cold, harsh voice, attempting to make a conversation. “But I would have had to stop killing, and instead guide lost souls to Death himself.”

He chuckled, apparently amused by his comment. “But that didn’t really sound like me,” He continued, “So I stuck with my hobbies. Now that I think about it, that’s probably why I was banished from the Nether in the first place.”

Ben still stood rooted to the spot, his hand clenched on his spear. ‘This is it, then,’ he thought. ‘But at least if I go down, I’ll have my son to carry on my legacy.’

His mind then drifted to his son, still wrapped in blankets, fast asleep. Blissfully unaware that his father was about to die. His stomach rolled over with guilt.

Ben raised his spear. “All right then Charon,” He said. “Enough games. Let’s get this over with.”

Ben thought he saw a sharp toothed smile like a sharks grin, flashing from his dark hood. Charon straightened up, and grabbed his horrible scythe, swinging it through the air. Ben mustered every inch of strength he had left, and charged. “AAARRGGHH!” he yelled, as jabbed his spear forward, only to have Charon’s scythe coming right towards him -

* * * * *​

Maya could only watch Ben’s lifeless body slump to the ground, and had to restrain herself from opening the door and strangle her husband’s killer with her bare hands. But she knew that would never be possible. So she stared out the window, sobbing hardly, grasping her only son, knowing she could never look after him by herself, that once they had arrived at Ragni, Ben would have retired and settled down with her. But now that would never happen, because Ben was gone, and only Maya knew that his soul had only a sliver left before leaving his body. She cried silently for a while, still hugging the baby tightly. Time passed, but everything around Maya was oblivious to her. By the time she had stopped crying and looked out the window, it was raining, dark drops of water splattering the window lightly. She peered over to where the battle had been. Bodies were still strewn everywhere, but the undead - and their leader, Charon - were gone.

It would be safe to leave, she thought, but the carriage driver must be dead, so she couldn’t go anywhere in the car. But there were the horses, she thought, as she peered out the window, checking to see if the coast was clear. It was risky. Saints row path was a dangerous road to travel alone.

But what choice did she have? she couldn’t stay in the carriage any longer. So she wrapped the baby more snugly in his blankets, clipped up her coat, took a deep breath, and opened the door, launching herself into the freezing rain.

Within a minute, she was soaked through, layers of cloth doing nothing against the cold. The baby was wet as well, and started to bawl. Maya unfortunately couldn’t do much about that. Shivering, she searched for a horse in the murky rain, hoping they hadn’t all ran away. Her face lit up as she saw a large bulk outlined in the drizzle of water. Maya hurriedly ran over and climbed onto the nervous horse, its saddle and coat dripping water. Holding her son tightly, she cracked the reins, sending the horse forward, onward to her destination. She had almost forgot to look back at her husband, but by the time she remembered and looked, the battleground wasn’t visible, the grey rain clouding the horrible scene, never to be seen by her again.

* * * * *​

​

 

The villager leant back in his comfortable rocking chair, sitting beside a crackling fireplace, a glass of mead in his aged hand. He took a lazy sip of the golden drink, and puffed another breath from his pipe, making a small ring cloud. Today had been a good day, he thought with content. From day one since his race’s arrival on the province of Wynn, they had made profits from anything the humans needed - Weapons, armour, goods from their own shore. But the biggest seller would have to be magic. The villagers had long outgrown their own ancient spells, as they had quickly decided they were a pacifist kind, not warriors, or wizards. But the humans had needed their old ways, as their magic was much weaker, at only a small stage of power. Fortunately the only currency they could exchange for goods was exactly what they wanted - Emeralds, the green ore once found in bundles underground, now rare to mine, but plenty to trade with.

The middle aged villager, along with the rest of his family and many others in Ragni, made a well-earned living, selling weapons for new recruits from Ragni’s fort, fresh from training and shipped all over Wynn. Or at least, wherever a new battle is. They get quite good pay from buying weapons and refurbishing them too.

Yes sir, He thought happily, as he leant further in his chair, today had been a good day for business. Another troop of weary soldiers had turned in their primary weapons, itching for a nights rest, wanting fresh new spears and bows. Imagine their surprise, he chuckled to himself, if that they had discovered that the ‘standard new weapons’ he’d given to them were still the same, just repaired and polished until they look brand new! ‘Another catastrophe of ordering and mixing up weapons averted’, he thought with glee. ‘You really outdo yourself, old chap.’

A loud knock occurred, like a hammer on wood. The villager jumped in his chair, nearly tipping over backwards. Muttering angrily, asking himself who would call at a time like this, he pulled himself out of his chair, and cursed, realising he had dropped his drink - and glass - into the fire. ‘Oh well', he thought. at least it wasn’t one of my best sets.’

Still muttering, he tightened his dressing gown and walked through his stone kitchen - where the heat of the fire couldn’t reach, as he soon realised, shivering - to his door.

Fumbling, he unlocked the security (in this case, a metal chain with bolts) and opened the heavy oak wood door. His eye’s widened with surprise, as he recognised his sopping visitors.

“Maya!” He exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here? I heard Almuj was under siege!”

“My father, the King is taking care of it,” She replied, trembling from the rain. “I needed to see you Alkoraan, after everything that’s happened. I had to see…” She fell silent, and started to tip forward worryingly. The villager caught her just in time. He was incredibly strong for a middle aged being, as he carried the unconscious Maya and the bundle she held tightly in her arms. He carefully placed her on a squashy armchair, just as she awoke again. Maya looked around from the soft chair, observing the room, her hands close to the fire. Alkoraan had disappeared into the kitchen, a few candle’s lit as he made more drinks, humming a strange tune. He seemed fine to have her here. But he wasn’t. If anything, he was worried for the girl. She couldn’t have just ran away from her kingdom for any old reason, no, something terrible must have happened to make her run away. The question was, what?

Alkoraan hurried back to Maya, pressing a warm glass of Mead into her hand, and sat down on his own cushioned rocking chair. “Please Maya,” He said. “Tell me what’s happened.”

And Maya did. She told him everything she could, the day she met Ben in Almuj, when she had her son, raising him for a short year in her palace, going with Ben back to Ragni hoping they could settle down there, Charon, the attack, and making back to the fort of Ragni on a stolen steed, all alone.

By the time she had finished talking, the first signs of daylight had emerged, the rims of the horizon turning a deep shade of pink. She was crying again, hugging the baby. Alkoraan staring at the bottom of his glass, trying to take all of it in. After a while, he said, “Maya...I’m - I’m so sorry.”

She sniffed, wiping her nose, and looked up at Alkoraan with streaming eyes. “Now you see,” she muttered. “I cannot take care of him alone.”

Alkoraan shifted in his seat. “But, surely you can take him back to Almuj,” he said in a reassuring tone. “He would be safe there -”

“I can’t, my father would never allow it,” Maya replied. “I’m not allowed to mother a child until I own the savannah, and that would take years.”

He sat back in his seat again, his brow furrowed, unable to think of any more suggestions that will keep mother with son. “Are - are you sure about this? I’ve had experience with my nephews, but I have never taken care of a human.”

Maya reached forward and grasped her hands with his. “He needs someone responsible to look up to,” she replied fiercely. “You were the first person that came to my mind.”

She stood up, holding her baby. “Just promise one thing,” she said. “As soon as he is of age to travel alone, make sure he goes to Almuj.”

Alkoraan stood up from his rocking chair, a look of purpose and pride in his eye’s. “I swear, my princess,” He answered. “He will find you. I’ll make sure of it.”

From there on, Maya knew she had come to the right guardian for her son. She was about to hand him over, but realised she had not said goodbye.

For the last time, she raised her son up in her arms, her green eyes clashing with his blue and dark green. It almost seemed like she was looking into Ben’s face again, something that Maya knew would never be possible now.

“Be strong, Daniel,” she whispered to the confuddled baby. “Be safe.”

And she handed Daniel Brew to the villager, and set off on the stolen horse, unaware that Daniel was the reason the monsters attacked, that the ‘bright one’ was there all along, that Charon completely overlooked him just because he was a baby.
And that, my friends, was the worst mistake Charon could make.

-END PROLOGUE​

 

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Prodigy
A WynnCraft Adventure

Chapter 1
"19 years later"​

Spoiler: Chapter 1

Daniel was aching. Sweat lined his brow, dripping and falling to the ground below, even trickling into his eye’s. His whole world was a constant blur, moving up and down, up and down. It was almost making him sick, the amount of times he’d been doing it. But it wasn’t exactly his choice.

Son of Bob, this hurts, he kept thinking. And his supposed ‘Discipline’ wasn’t helping at all.

He felt a long hard object landing on his back hard with a loud THWACK. He had expected the pain, tensing his jaw, but the sting afterwards was always unbearable. Yet he still pulled up, again and again, knowing that what he was doing was doing his upper body good, even if it hurt. A lot.

His villager god-father swung the wooden stick again, striking Daniels shoulder blade’s. He gasped, the agony of the exercise and the stick too much for him. He stopped moving, swaying from the rafters upside down, his arms like swinging vines. He looked down at the villager, panting. “I think 290 leg-ups is enough for one day, Alkoraan,” Daniel said to him, wearily.

He got another sharp thwack to his left arm as a reply, leaving it a ruddy shade of pink. Daniel retracted his arms quickly with a scowl, carefully examining the damage Alkoraan had made.

“Alkoraan, ‘“Sir,”’ He growled at the young man. “And if there’s one thing my father taught me when I was your age, it’s that if you want a job done, you don’t leave it unfinished and then come back to it.”

Daniel sighed, his arm and back still throbbing. “Anything more philosophical you want to add, “‘Sir?’” He asked, emphasising a lot of sarcasm into the last sentence.

He got another smack to the fingers for that one. “Ten more. Hurry up!” Alkoraan barked at Daniel. There was no time to massage his stinging red fingers, so the only option was to make it to 300. With much struggle, he swung up, and touched his bare feet with sore fingers, and repeated it another 9 times, his face becoming redder and redder. At last, he relaxed his legs, slid off the wooden pole and flipped, landing on all fours with a soft *thump*.

“Good job,” Alkoraan muttered, as Daniel straightened back up, wiping the sweat from his hands on his chipped leather tunic. “Now come and help me with the boxes. The cart should be around the back by now.”

“Right,” Daniel agreed half-heartedly. Figures he’d have to do more hard labour just after exercise.

For 10 years, Daniel had helped Alkoraan unpack, sharpen, and sell basic weapons to eager new adventurers ready to help save the province from the undead spawn of the nether. It was an average career, but Daniel tried to think about the more positive side of life. Sometimes though, there are dreams that never leave us, even when we have chosen a different path.

Daniel had met his first adventurer at the age of 7. Before then, Alkoraan had forbidden him to leave the house, in case he went too far exploring. On that sunny day, he had been trying his best to sharpen a jagged rock he had found on the gravel, when the adventurer had arrived at the front of the stall.

“Excuse me, little one,” the young chain-clad man had said to the surprised seven year old. “Can you tell me where the owner of this shop is?”

“He said he was going upstairs, but you can talk to me if you like!” Daniel had exclaimed eagerly, forgetting his rock and bouncing over to the bench.

The adventurer had chuckled at Daniel’s enthusiasm. “Well, if you must know, I’ve lost my spear to a group of spiders in Nivla woods. I can’t defend myself without a proper weapon.”

“Nivla woods?” Daniel had asked. “Alkoraan’s told me about there. He said there are spiders that live in there that are huge!”

“I wouldn’t say huge, kid,” the man had replied. “About the size of a small snow wolf, maybe.”

“Whats a snow wolf?”

And thats when a firm friendship was made. Every day or so, the adventurer would come to the weapons stall, and Daniel would bound up to meet him, expecting a new story about his adventures through the province, and his encounters with strange and terrifying beasts. And then one day, his passion really set off.

“You know kid, I think you could be a great adventurer,” The man had said while talking about the gigantic jungle of Troms.

“Really? You think so?” Daniel had asked, awed.

“Of course,” the adventurer answered. “You have a thirst for the secrets of Wynn, my friend.”

“But I can’t!” Daniel wailed. “Alkoraan never lets me go anywhere out of Ragni, except for visits to Katoa Ranch.”

The man waved his arms in a shrugging expression. “So run away! Thats what I did!”

“Wow! You ran away? But... what about your mum and dad?”

“That was kind of the reason I ran away in the first place,” he said quietly. “My Dad ignored me when I was your age, and my Mother left.”

“So how did you survive?” Daniel had asked, starting to feel sorry for this adventurer he had grown to enjoy listening to.

“I joined a group of older adventurers, they taught me how to fight, and here I am now.”
“How did they teach you to fight? Did you get hurt?” Daniel’s voice lowered to a whisper.
The adventurer grinned, then pulled out a leather-bound book, the size of his palm. The leather was scuffed and peeling, and there was a barely visible title on the front, it’s letter’s faded. “They gave me this,” the adventurer answered. “It’s a basic handbook on all known weapon styles of magic-enhanced combat. It’s not the best, but it definitely helped me. Here,” he handed the battered handbook to Daniel, who cradled the book in his small hands, then beamed back up at the adventurer. “It’s yours now. Just don’t use it until you can actually hold a weapon, all right?” He advised.

Daniel nodded quickly, his head bobbing excitedly up & down, making a note to use it as soon as the day turned to dusk.

The handbook had been a particular inspiration to Daniel in his efforts to learn how to fight. So, after creating a makeshift spear, he started sneaking out in the dead of night, and practiced spear combat using the old, peeling handbook, along with other numerous novels about fighting with spears that he had found at Ragni's Historian's collection. Alkoraan became suspicious in Daniel’s sudden interest in proper combat maneuvers, but at that age, Daniel didn’t seem to notice. The books and instructions taught him everything basic, and soon he moved to advanced moves that involved something he thought he didn't have - magic.

It seemed like a wonderful idea when he read about it. Making earthquakes with just the hilt of a weapon, launching opponents into the sky by flicking the blade, and creating a sonic scream that shook the ground itself, sending your opponents running in fear. The power was spectacular!

The only problem was that at the time, he hadn’t shown a single ounce of magic yet. As his training progressed without any sign of further magic enhanced moves, Daniel grew more and more depressed. Maybe he wasn’t meant to be an adventurer, he kept thinking. Maybe he was going to spend the rest of his life sharpening and selling weapons.

And then the day came when he finally showed his potential…

It was the witching hour. A time when monsters could see through walls, when bats grew hungry for blood, when a mage felt the most powerful in a moon cycle. A seemingly well coincidence. Daniel had been practising Bash for at least an hour or so, and still hadn’t gotten any luck. He shouted in frustration, and kicked a rock on the gravel, sending up a small cloud of dirt. Attempting one last time, he twirled the spear in frustration and pointed it to a hay bale.

KABOOM! A visible wave of shimmering air spat out from the tip of the spear, and froze for a few seconds, like a soaring eagle in a furious wind, before crashing into the bale, sending hay everywhere. Daniel stood there, amazed. He then let out a WHOOP of happiness, jumping in circles, celebrating. He didn’t even realize, or care that he had woken up the neighborhood! All he cared about was the fact he accomplished what he thought was impossible. His dream never looked so close.

The next day, Daniel had woken up, tired from the night before, but excited to tell his adventurer friend what he had achieved. He raced downstairs, ate his breakfast in rushed gulps, and then hurried to the front of the stall, waiting for the adventurer.

But he never came. Daniel waited all day for him, then two days, then a week. For an entire year, he waited, anxious to see him, hoping his long absence was just another long but dangerous quest. Then, when he was 9, he started to fear the worst. He tried forgetting him, but his stories had been so exciting, so astounding to listen to. He couldn’t let go.

To this day, he still wondered what horrible fate befell the adventurer in his absence, wondering if it was that day when he had handed Daniel his precious old handbook that had sealed his fate. And thus, we are brought back to the present, with Daniel’s ambition shrouded from the unknown future.

Daniel briskly followed Alkoraan through the stone kitchen and out the back door, past the storage room where every piece of unsold weapons, empty crates and broken equipment lay, slowly gathering a blanket of dust.

He heard the familiar neigh of horses outside, as he had expected. Alkoraan was waiting on the gravel path, his arms tightly crossed in the frosty morning air, his face steely & firm, just as a horse drawn cart arrived beside him.

The driver was a fellow villager, Daniel knew as much. Even if he hadn’t seen him for the past 10 years of work, he still would have instantly depicted the humanoid from his high forehead, large nose and bushy eyebrows. He had a simple name, for a simple job, which Daniel admired.

“Morning Alkoraan!” the villager said while perched on top of the high cart seat. “Looks like it’s going to be another clear blue day, don’t you think?”

“Who knows, Tom,” Alkoraan replied in his gruff voice. “Weather can be a cruel mistress in these parts. It could be a storm midday.”
Just for the sake of it, Daniel instinctively glanced above him, looking for any trace of a cloud. There was nothing but a perfect shade of blue all the way to the horizon.

“Aye,” Tom agreed, his spirits undeterred. “Lets just hope it stays this way then, huh?”

As Alkoraan gave a grunt of recognition and rushed around the back of the cart, unclipping the secure wooden gate, Tom turned his attention to Daniel, who had been waiting the whole time to speak to him.

“How are ya, Daniel?” He asked to the anxious young man. “You look like you just came out of a boiler, the amount of sweat on you. What did you do, wrestle a pack of pigmen lords?” He chuckled at his horrible joke. Daniel gave a forced laugh. Villagers had a very different humour compared to humans, and if you didn’t laugh, they would take it as a personal insult.

“Nothing of the sort, sir,” He answered. “I just did my exercise routine.”

Tom nodded his head in respect. “I remember when I did exercise. Not that I need it now of course. My horses do all the running for me!” He gave a gentle slap on the neck to his left steed in appreciation, a speckled white coated stallion.

Alkoraan’s voice was heard at the back of the cart, as he took the crate’s of standard weapons off the storage compartment. “How many other deliveries you making today Tom?” he asked, slightly muffled.

The villager twisted in his seat to look at him. “I got the usual delivery of iron buckets to Katoa Ranch. They’re going through them like wildfire you know. Apparently one of their cattle ate a strange fungus, and its spread over the entire stock. It affected it’s milk too. Melted through the bucket just like paper!” He roared with laughter, slapping his leg repeatedly and rocking back in his seat. Alkoraan merely grinned at his comment. “Anywhere else?” he inquired, trying to keep the conversation on track.


Tom scratched his large nose, trying to remember. “I think there's a small order of farm supplies at Maltic, then I’ll head up through Nivla Woods and make the usual visit to Detlas. After that, it’s Almuj and a well earned rest.”

Tom continued blabbing away while Alkoraan passed Daniel a heavy wooden crate into his arms. Carefully, he carried it away into the storage area, setting it down on one of the newer supply boxes. He was still exhausted from the pull ups, as he realised after setting the box down. He wiped the frozen sweat from his forehead, and ran his fingers through his jet-black hair. When he walked outside again, Tom was still chatting with Alkoraan while he waited for their load to be carried off his cart.

“Speaking of the Savannah, have you heard about the crisis at Almuj?” Tom asked to Alkoraan, who was on the back of the cart, dropping the last crate off the end.

“I haven’t,” Daniel interrupted, stepping forward. “What’s wrong at Almuj?”

Was it just a trick of the morning light, or did Alkoraan look uncomfortable about where this conversation was going?

“Their king, Lexias the third, lord of the savannah, is dying.” Tom replied with a frown. “His daughter, Princess Maya, is the only heir to the throne. There’s been a rumour going around that he’ll be dead within a couple of weeks."

"Of course, there’s nothing wrong with Princess Maya,” He continued. “The only thing I’m worried about was that she never had a child.”

“What?” Daniel exclaimed. “How old is she?”

“About in her late thirties,” Tom answered. He shifted in his seat, plucking a sharp piece of hay from under his chair, flicking it away. “There had been a rumour going on quite a few years back however,” He said in a thoughtful voice. “Something about a secret marriage with a high general, and another thing about a son -”

Alkoraan cleared his voice loudly, and tapped the side of the cart. “Okay, Tom, our stuff’s been unloaded,” He spoke in a raised voice, interrupting their conversation. “Good luck on your other deliveries.”

“Oh, right.” Tom said, shaking his head a little. As he gladly took the pouch of emeralds from Alkoraan as pay, he leaned over to Daniel.

“Listen,” He said quietly. “I’m not the best guy to get rumours and gossip from, but I know a place in Ragni you could go to that’ll give you more information. I mean, if you want it of course.”

“Oh,” Daniel murmured. “Yeah, sure. Whats this place called?”

“It’s only the most popular pub in Ragni!” He replied mischievously. He straightened up, grabbing the leather reins. “You’ll figure it out,” Tom assured him. He then cracked the reins, sending the two horses forward at a trotting pace. He looked back and waved, before turning to the right and onwards to the coast, a cloud of dust left behind.

As a matter of fact, Daniel already knew what pub old Tom had been talking about. The only problem was that he hadn’t really ever bothered going.

“Daniel!” Alkoraan shouted from inside. “You gonna stand around like a statue, or are you gonna help me unpack these weapons?”

He turned, startled, unaware the villager had sneaked back inside. “No, I’m coming sir!” He shouted back.

“Well, hurry up then! We haven’t got all day!”

And so begins another working day, Daniel thought, as he headed back inside. But this was far from an ordinary day. Tonight, he would find answers, and a 19 year-old lie.

 

Prodigy
A WynnCraft Adventure

Chapter 2
"The truth at last"​

Spoiler: Chapter 2

There are rarely few places in the province of Wynn where adventurers can truly be welcomed under a comfortable roof. To have food and a warm bed waiting for them at the end of the day. Quite possibly the thing you’ll find the least of all would be places where traveler's can find information - unobtainable anywhere else. Which is why in every pub, inn or brewery located in the province, it’s always crowded.

It was nearly 10 o’clock in the evening, and the “Broken Arrow” was still going strong. Daniel was lying on the damp grass bank opposite to the pub, observing the rustic building. The gods of Wynn were sullen for some reason, as the sky was pitch black, with not a single star in sight. Fortunately he could still see the building from its bright wall-hung torches.

Daniel breathed in deeply, smelling the pubs aroma. A small, chilly wind was picking up, sending a strong scent of ale and roast pig to his nostrils. He sighed with worry.

Surely he wasn’t afraid of entering an inn? Maybe he was just nervous because it was his first time. Another part of him wanted to stay right where he was, and just stare at the “Arrow”.

No, you have to go in there. he had come here to find answers he knew should have been answered long ago. He wasn’t sure if his suspicions were correct, but the more he thought about it, the more it moved into place, like the right piece of an annoyingly difficult puzzle, niggling int the back of his head.

Slowly, he picked himself up off the grassy bank, and landed on the cobblestone road, wiping stray pieces of grass off his back. His heart tightened in his chest as he walked up the gravel path, dreading what kind of information his ears would hear in there.

The door was hooked back, almost welcoming the cautious young man inside. His eye’s widened as he took in the surroundings of the noisy pub. And he couldn’t help but grin.

Everywhere he looked, there were merry people cheering, clanking tankards full with Nemract whiskey or Detlas apple cider, foam flying everywhere. A group of drunk adventurers were singing old tales in the corner, waving their drinks over their heads. Another table of travellers were ripping into a small banquet, a full roast boar in the middle with an apple stuffed tightly in its dead jaw. There were adventurers in every rank, from the younger, less experienced leather and gold clad archers, to diamond-encrusted iron worn Troms warriors. Daniel stopped for a moment at the door, and watched the Troms warriors with fascination. He had heard tales of older warriors who had explored the outer rims of the province from the tales of the mysterious adventurer. Most that left often came back years later, as a fully fledged fighting machine, beards longer than their hair, and the menace of living with the wild for a long amount of time.

Daniel could definitely tell the diamond spear-man had been living in the dense jungle of Troms for a while, simply by his posture, his armour and his jewel-encrusted spear with mysterious runes etched onto the jewels. He was also apparently very popular, Daniel noticed. He was surrounded by a group of younger adventurers, who were listening silently to every way he knew about skinning a pig-man.

A shout behind him made him jump with surprise. Did someone just say his name? Expecting a large angry man ready for a fight, he spinned around - and there was no one there. He relaxed, but tensed when his name was shouted again.

“Daniel! I’m over at the bench!”

Who was that? he wondered, as he pushed through the stuffy crowd. Was someone expecting him? It was surely impossible, as he hadn’t told anyone where he had been going that night, not even Alkoraan. He had swapped the truth by saying he was going to take a walk around the fort of Ragni.

He finally made it to the drink-serving bench, and leaned against it, looking up and down the long table. No one was apparently greeting him. his head lowered as he stared down at the polished wood.

“Daniel!” The voice exclaimed again. “Its good to see you!”

His eyes darted up to the source of the voice, and relaxed after recognizing the owner of the voice.

It was another villager. Unlike most middle-aged villagers, who are all bald, this one still had a crop of brown plain hair on the top of his high forehead, that was only just starting to balden. He was dressed in a long sweeping robe of magenta, slightly splattered by alcohol.

“It has been too long since I’ve visited you and Alkoraan!” He said, while wiping the bench.

Daniel grinned at the happy villager. “Its good to see you too, Pudnit,” he replied. “I see your pub is still in business.”

“Well, of course!” Pudnit cried, widening his arms. “The day the “‘Broken Arrow’” closes will be when the province has ran out of adventurers, so I don’t see that happening anytime soon.”

He waggled his finger at Daniel. “What I’m concerned about at the moment is that after 3 years since you’ve become of age, you’ve decided to come now to my pub! Why is that, may I ask?”

Now came the hard part. Daniel swallowed, and leant further over the bench. “I’m looking for some information,” he said quietly. “About - about Princess Maya.”

Almost immediately Pudnit's grin vanished, turning into a look of concern. “Hmmm.”

He gave a gesture to wait, and he vanished into the back room. Daniel peered through the door, attempting to see what Pudnit was doing. He soon found out a moment later. He rushed through the door holding a large bottle filled with a golden-yellowish liquid. “Detlas’s best apple cider,” He explained, lifting the bottle for Daniel to see. “Thought we might need it for this conversation.”

“For - wait, what?” Daniel asked, confused. “Pudnit, I’m just looking for some answers. You know Tom, the deliveryman? he sent me here. Said this was the best place in Ragni to get the truth.”

“Well, he wasn’t lying,” Pudnit remarked, as he pulled up two tankards and poured the cider into them, filling it to the brim. He took a long deep sip, then placed the tankard on the bench, before breaking into speech.

“The whole background behind princess Maya is pretty mysterious. She was born and raised for most of her life in the castle of Almuj. Not much was known about her during her younger years, not until she had an actual seat of power in the Savannah kingdom.”

Daniel had been listening to every word, anxious not to miss anything. He then realized that he hadn’t touched his drink. Taking hold of the handle, he raised it to his lips and gulped down some of the golden cider cautiously. He soon discovered he didn’t need to be afraid of drinking. It tasted wonderful! It was like Daniel had just ate a whole batch of mystical “Notch apples” in one go. He set the tankard down on the glossy bench, a foamy line covering his upper lip.

Pudnit had noticed the ordeal, smirking. “Told you it was good,” He said, as Daniel drunk more. “You’ve been missing out, son.”

“I’ve noticed,” Daniel replied, wiping the foam off his mouth. “Can I ask you some questions, about Princess Maya?” He asked, all warmth put aside.

“Fire away,” Pudnit answered, placing his elbow against the bench, content.

He thought for a moment, to gather his head. The cider was starting to affect his mind, as he suddenly noticed. He looked around, and then immediately looked back at the ground, as everything around him was getting dizzy. Clearly, he wasn't used to drinking just yet.

“Do you know the name of the man Maya married?” He asked.

“Hmm,” Pudnit said, tapping his chin in thought. “I think his name was Benjamin.”

“Last name?”

“Can’t quite remember...might of started with a B.”

“Did he have a job?”

“A job? are you kidding? He was one of the highest ranked warrior’s in the entire province!”

“Is he still alive?”

Pudnit was about to speak, but suddenly stopped, his mouth still ajaw. “No,” he finally answered, shaking his head. “He was killed some time around the end of the great war.”

“Are you sure?”

“I can’t be too sure. All of my information was gathered by other villagers, they could have lied for a good laugh.”

“How did he die?”

Pudnit waved his arm lazily. “Killed by some corrupted while travelling to Ragni, I think.”

“And they had a son, right?”

Pudnit stopped talking abruptly. He stared at Daniel with curiosity. Daniel stared at Pudnit, impatiently waiting for an answer.

He didn’t want to be angry at Pudnit, but he had just stopped talking when he had asked the question he had waited to say all night. “Did they have a son, Pudnit?” He repeated.

Pudnit started to mutter incoherent words, before Daniel spoke again, this time with a raised voice. “Did they, Pudnit?”

“Yes, I - I believe they did,” Pudnit finally replied quietly. Daniel stared, even more shocked than the old bartender. Everything was fitting, terrifyingly, into place. But he had to make sure…

“What - what was the name of their son?” He asked, lowering his voice.
Pudnit looked up with concerned eye’s.
“Daniel, really… I don’t think this is necessary…”

“It is, Lexias,” Daniel replied, impatience growing. “This is one thing I really, really need to know. Just the name.”

The villager tapped his lined fingers on the wooden bench, an uncomfortable look in his eyes.

“The name, Lexias.”

* * * * *​

Daniel opened the oak wood door, storming inside, and slammed it behind him. His rage was terrible. He was so, so angry. How could he? after all these years, he never thought he should of told him…

Alkoraan heard the door slam, before Daniel entered the room. His face was twisted with anger. A few moments passed with Daniel just standing in the entrance, Alkoraan frozen in his seat.

He suddenly exploded. “IM THE SON OF PRINCESS MAYA?!” he yelled. Alkoraan looked up at Daniel, slowly getting out of his chair. “Who told you this?” He breathed.

Daniel pointed his finger at the old villager. “DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!” He shouted. Alkoraan noticed tears slowly running down his godson's chin amid his anger. “You knew, didn’t you?!” Daniel snarled.

“Yes,” Alkoraan replied calmly. “Yes, I did know, but what I did was right -”

“You thought it was RIGHT?!” Daniel bellowed. “For 10 years, I’ve been stuck unpacking and sharpening weapons, stuff I couldn’t even use! And yet, I -” He stopped for a moment, thinking of what he was even uttering from his mouth - “I could have lived in Almuj! I could have become an adventurer! I COULD'VE HAD A MOTHER!”

He yelled the last sentence, his hands tightened into fists. Alkoraan just stared at him, just staring calmly, as if he had come in cheerfully. But that wasn’t the case. “Thats where you’re wrong, son.” He replied coolly. “Do you want to know why your mother left you in Ragni, to be taken care of by me?”

Daniel raised his arms. “Go on, then,” He asked, his eye’s widened in mockery. “Surprise me!”

“Its because she was never strong enough,” Alkoraan answered, still calm. “The reason your mother came with your father to Ragni was that she thought they could settle down here. He died trying to protect you, and she was the last human left in their group, as well as you. I found you and Maya on my doorstep that night, and she gave you to me, partly because she couldn’t mother a child until she owned the savannah, and partly so that I could prepare you.”

“Prepare me?” Daniel said, in a non-believing voice. “Prepare me for what?”

“So that you could become an adventurer, like your dad.”

Daniel processed this for a moment, then snorted. “Well, you haven’t done that well, have you?” He replied coldly. He couldn’t believe what Alkoraan was saying, and he had no intention of wanting to, either.

“I understand you don’t believe me,” Alkoraan exclaimed. “But think of what you’ve learnt these years! You’re fit, you can fight, you - you can control magic!”

Daniel stared at the old villager with curiosity, his anger momentarily vanished. “How did you know I could do magic?” He asked, surprised. “I trained in the middle of the night, nobody saw me -”

“I did and I’m certain you woke up our neighbours when you practiced as well,” Alkoraan replied flatly. “You’ve got magic in your veins, son. With a little more practice, you could master spells with that spear of yours.”

“How do you know about my spear-” Daniel started, but immediately stopped as Alkoraan pointed to the fireplace. His mouth dropped, as he saw his once badly made, now magnificient childhood spear.

It was nearly nothing like Daniel had remembered it. The shaft had been extended by another metre. The wood, once dull and cracked with moss hanging from it since the day he pulled it off a tree, was now polished until he could now see his own reflection on the wood. The end was covered by a small golden spike, and the wide blade, once a sharpened rock, had been replaced with stainless reinforced steel, Leather wrappings tightly held around the bottom of the blade. Daniel picked the spear up in his trembling hands, and twirled it in his fingers, noticing how light it had become since the last time he had picked it up. It was hard to believe, but the spear was his. Even his two initials had been left scrawled in the wood, as he soon discovered.

“Made it as a project to refurbish that old thing,” Alkoraan remarked. “If I hadn’t, it would’ve been left in your cupboard, gathering dust and moths.”

Daniel continued to marvel at the spear. He had a spear. A good one. Not to mention his magical abilities. Could he be able to pick up his dusty dream off the ground, like his own trusty spear? Maybe all he needed now - was the right push...

It was then that he made a decision that would change his entire destiny, and the unseen thought that no one, not even the gods of Wynn, expected. He stared deeply at the spear for what felt like an eternity, searching for the weapons very soul, before snapping out of his trance. “I’m going.” He spoke in a cracked shuddering voice.

“What?” Alkoraan asked. He had approached the shaking young man over the past few minutes. “What do you mean, you’re going?”

“I mean, I’m leaving,” Daniel snapped, moving into action. Not even bothering to dodge the villager, he rushed past him, and sprinted up the creaking staircase, his spear still in-hand.

The door magically opened for him, as he stormed through, entering his room. He spun around, only just realising that had happened. He looked down at his hands with shock. Did he mean to that? Why was his abilities just showing up now? And why did it decide to open a door, of all things?

Thats not important right now. Daniel quickly started to pack his gear. He pulled open his dented wardrobe, and grabbed a stack of clothes, stuffing them into his only rucksack. Only a few more items were dropped into the bag, including his saved-up pouch of emeralds, a few gold coins, spare rations and an old leather helmet.

Daniel raised it at shoulder-height, checking for any signs of mold after being kept in the wardrobe for too long. There was a particular back-story about this leather helmet, Daniel remembered, smiling faintly. At around the age of 10, Daniel had been scavenging for items dropped by the weak zombies that shamble around the borders of Ragni, unable to enter from invisible boundaries. At first, all he had found was rotten meat, left behind by decaying carcasses. But as he turned the corner, his eye’s widened as he saw what he had been looking for.

A mutated body had been lying on the crystal shores of the coastal trail, face first on the yellow sand. Crabs had been scuttling over and around it, investigating the phenomenon that had shown up on their turf, and whenever foamy waves washed over the carcass, the sea life would clear away, then crawl back again.

Daniel eagerly sprinted over to the body, kicking up hot sand behind him, and crashed on his knees, skidding to a halt beside the zombie. What was on it's head? At that moment, a perfect leather helm, with barely a scratch, in pristine wearable condition. Within an hour, he had sprinted back to his room, hiding it deep inside his cupboard. Until now.

With haste, he shoved it upon his head. Luckily it suited his scuffed leather tunic and his ragged denim trousers, as he noted, satisfied. He took his spear off the stool he had rested it on, fitting it under his diagonal mooshroom leather belt as a makeshift sheath, then shouldered his rucksack, and walked out of his bedroom.

Alkoraan was still waiting at the bottom of the staircase. He heard the sound of heavy footsteps becoming louder and louder, until Daniel was visible. His furious god-son pushed past him, walking over to the coat rack and grabbing his tattered red cloak, and a ripped black and grey checkered scarf. “Daniel, please listen to me,” Alkoraan started quietly. “You’re not ready to go out to the wilderness, it’s too dangerous, especially at this time of night -”

“Anywhere’s better than here,” Daniel snapped. “I’ve had enough of you, and your lies.”

He clipped up the red cloak around his shoulders, and opened the oak door. "Stop," said Alkoraan. Daniel sighed, and turned back to him. “You go out there now,” Alkoraan warned, “Don’t expect that door to be open.”

“I’m sorry,” Daniel answered softly. “But you should have told me the truth.”

With nothing left to say, he wrapped the scarf around his neck, leaving his mouth invisible, closed the door behind him, and sprinted up the street, to the Entrance of Ragni - becoming one with the dark of the night.

 

Prodigy
A WynnCraft Adventure

Chapter 3
"Undead Attack"
​

Spoiler: Chapter 3 - part one

Darkness was his ally.

He could feel it around him, swirling all over his sandy abdomen like a mischievous imp, whispering untraceable words he couldn't really hear.

Yet he could understand it, could relate to it as a being with no proper soul, a monster made by some being much more powerful than he. He snapped his hard jaw, making a chatter of clicking noises to the shadows. It seemed to reply, but once again he couldn’t make out what it was saying, an incoherent string of murmuring. He started to think this supposed “friend” of his wasn’t even meaning to speak. Only to follow him for the rest of his short life, from hatching out of a tiny egg, to giving up life as a frail husk and keeling over, leaving his brethren to feed on his body.

The creature turned away from the darker-than-black shadow, and started to scuttle back to his hole, where his nest was waiting for him.

But as he trudged through the long, unkempt grass, a strange scent wafted his way, while he began to hurry through the tall dense trees. He stopped, smelling the air with his sensitive hairs on his legs. The hairs on his back stood on end, as he recognised the scent with surprise.

Human meat.

He clicked his jaws to call out his brothers and sisters, to smell this wonderful news. For too long have they had a fresh meal at the darkest time of day. The humans had become either too cautious to enter their domain, or too confident, knocking aside his family easily with their strange sticks and tools that fired bolts of lightning, fire and steel.

But now this! He could tell this human was alone just by recognising a single body of flesh in his scent. A seemingly alone human! It almost seemed too good to be true!

Eager to not let their prey escape, he and his fellow brethren rushed through the long weedy grass, hundreds of legs skimming across the ground. The smell was getting closer, until…

The spiders halted abruptly, a pile of dark legs and heads with beady eyes cascading onto each other, a mound of hairy beasts.

They had unfortunately come to the edge of the forest, the border of their domain. Anywhere else beyond there was impossible to go to, as an invisible force was somehow blocking them out of the woods, leaving them to squander inside the prison they call the forest.

And the human they had smelt - the spider’s eyes narrowed at the annoying truth - Was outside of it!

They could spot him now, a wandering young creature, barely out of its egg. Or however humans are born, whatever.

He snapped his jaws in frustration. Now they would never get hold of that delicious meat! The corrupted that roam the ruins of the old stone nest would surely kill the fleshling first!

No matter, no matter. Most humans that dared to cross the path of the spiders eventually make it to the forest. But then again, the human didn’t look too experienced, comparing to previous human beasts with shiny skins, and annoying weapons that set monsters alight with fire, or launches them through the air too far.

We must hope that it makes it then, he thought. Even if the human makes it past the undead, it wouldn’t be safe - not even close.

He clicked his jaw slowly, informing his brothers and sisters to wait. They would feast on the flesh of this morsel - just as long as they waited.

Soon.

* * * * *​

Daniel was already starting to regret running away from home.

There were certain bad aspects that he had gone over since running away from Ragni. One, he had hardly any gear to survive, so it would be entirely possible that he would eventually die of hypothermia from the cold night. He should of at least brought a bigger rucksack.

Secondly, he had absolutely no idea where he was going. Around the time he left to now, his head had been throbbing, bulging with emotions he wanted to get rid of. Now, it was slightly clearer, and sharper at decision making.

He just wished he hadn’t made the last decision. Now he was running from home, seemingly banished by his guardian, and doomed to die in the wilderness unless someone heroically came and found him. He felt like he had dug a body-deep hole, and he couldn’t get out. No one could lift him out of the hole he dug himself.

So maybe he could get someone to bring him a ladder. In this case, the ladder being shelter.

Daniel knew from the tales of the first adventurer, that at the edge of the forest, a group of houses had been made solely to help adventurers make it past the dense and terrifying Nivla Forest. If he could ask to stay there for the night, he could have a better chance of making it through the woods in the day.

But once he had made it through the forest, where would he go? He had thought of the nagging question the entire run.

Doesn’t matter right now, he thought. I’ve just gotta make it to shelter, before any stray monsters find me -

He stopped dead in his tracks, sending pebbles from the gravel road flying. You couldn’t see it under his black and grey scarf, but his mouth had dropped from what he was looking at.

It looked like a massive battle had been fought here. There were great chunks of dirt missing from the ground, vine and moss covered rubble scattering the landscape. A few beacon towers, tall lookout posts used for communicating emergencies to major cities, had been torn open, the inside visible, with waist high grass growing around them in their solitary slumber. It was an old war zone that had never been cleaned up. But yet this - Daniel had never been told of this place before. So he certainly didn’t know what unfortunate secrets it held...

The stars and the moon were certainly helpful as a light source, but more than anything Daniel wished for the warm comforting presence of the bright sun on his back. It also helped with monsters, blinding them in daylight, making them easy prey. In the day, humans were the hunters. But at night, they became the hunted, always looking behind them, and taking watch-shifts when resting in groups, cautious not to let anything under their sight.

But Daniel didn’t have a group to travel with, and he certainly didn't have any time to sleep. He cautiously walked through the silent ruins, his eyes weary from exhaustion. The cracked gravel road crunched beneath his feet, making him wince from fear of being caught with every step, his breath still heavy from running all the way here. He could see a dark expanding shape on the horizon, covering the earth like a dark blanket.

Nivla Forest.

it wasn’t too visible at the moment, as the ruins obscured his vision. But as far as he could tell, the forest was absolutely massive, the trees denser than the average oak. It was like a neverending roof.

What really lay beyond that forest? He hadn’t been told much, but Daniel had a faint idea. The main river of Wynn supposedly stretched out to sea, hand in hand by the woods, before making its way past the salty waters of Nemract - and then out to the Ocean. Over the river lay a vast amount of plains, housing the trading city of Detlas, as well as numerous dangers hidden beneath the surface. In caves and dungeons lay the mindless undead, waiting for their next unfortunate meal, and above ground - Ferocious Savannah Ocelots patrol their territory, marking adventurers with their long vicious claws. And even further on, the desert of Almuj. A barren sandy hell, filled with tombs, sand-crawlers and scarabs. Daniel had also been told of scorched zombies in the outer rim of the desert, living carcasses with rusted chainmail armour creaking with every confused shamble.

Beyond there lay a land of hole-filled, dry clay canyons with dead cowboys and prospectors - but the adventurer who he’d gained all his info from had never been there at the time, so he didn’t know much about the place.

Daniel was really starting to regret not taking a map. He knew there was a spare one in one of the kitchen cupboards he missed. He could of made a safe route through Nivla Forest! Now the only thing to do was to try to go around the woods and become hopelessly lost - or go straight through the forest itself. He shuddered to think what kind of monsters would be waiting for him in there.

After at least 10 minutes of walking through the crumbling ruins, he realised he was getting hungry - and very tired. His stomach growled at him underneath his light leather tunic. Daniel sighed, and checked his surroundings, careful for any signs of undead.

I suppose I could rest under that tree for a little bit, he thought, as he strided over to the gnarled gum tree, and carefully sat down, hiding in a curve in the dirt below the tree.

It was still unnaturally quiet. No birds were calling, which was odd. Daniel looked up at the branches of the Gum tree, trying to find a trace of any birds. The tree was empty, not even a nest was perched on the branches. Odd, he thought. There should be birds, even at night.

Trying to think of how there were no birds in the ruins, he took off his old rucksack and opened it, shuffling aside his extra clothes and rations. One possible reason the birds weren’t there, was that they were scared away. Maybe by a predator.

It was entirely possible, thought Daniel, as he found the item he was looking for. He pulled out a rusty set of flint and steel, hoping to make a small fire beside the tree. He looked around carefully, before gathering spare twigs and leaves for the fire. The best thing to do would be to stay under the tree for the night. There was no way he was going into the woods while it was still dark.

At least I don’t have to wait long, He thought, checking the horizon, Estimating the arrival of dawn. There may be only a few hours left.

Daniel focused on lighting the fire. He scraped the flint against steel, attempting to get a spark out of it. It wasn’t exactly working, and Daniel never was the best person to start a fire. At last, a spark fell from the ignition, and landed on the assembled branches, sending it ablaze. Daniel looked back up with relief - and yelled, jumping backwards with fright.

A horrible face loomed in the darkness, directly across the fire. Its nose, ears and lips had decayed, showing dried flesh and bone. Its skull was visible, the right part of its head completely clean of skin and blood, the skull yellowish and cracked. It was dragging one its legs behind itself, broken and twisted in a horrible angle. Its clothes it once wore when the body was alive had been ripped and torn, transformed into rags. The zombie leered, showing a wide set of sharp, splintered teeth, yellow from years of rotting.

Daniel rolled back and landed on his feet, bending his knees in a fighting crouch. Now he really started to wish he hadn’t made a fire. How could he have forgotten? The monsters were not only attracted to magic, but anything humans create with tools. One of those things was fire.

The zombie, sensing its prey through smell rather than poor eyesight, stepped on the flame’s, setting its leg on fire. It didn’t notice his roasting leg at all. If he wasn’t in this kind of situation Daniel would have laughed at the sight.

The mindless zombie lunged forward, scattering hot ash and burning sticks in the air. Daniel quickly shielded his face from the heat, and springed at the zombie, jumping over the smoke and knocking over the undead. He rolled further away, sending dirt upwards and covered his clothes. He stopped rolling, and staggered back up, a further distance from the zombie. It snarled, unaccepting its prey was much more smarter than itself.

Daniel had never killed anything before, and never intended to. Up until a few hours ago he had no idea he would end up in this mess. But this was an undead - it had already died. It shouldn’t have gotten back up. Daniel figured if he destroyed the zombie, it would set the trapped soul inside the shrivelled body free - so at least that was a bonus.

Regaining his footing, he raised his hand, preparing to take the spear from its sheath - only to snatch thin air. Daniel twisted around, looking at his back, and groaned. The spear had dislodged itself from his belt, most definitely from the painful roll.

Daniel scanned the ground with his eye’s, searching for his weapon - and there it was, along side his battered rucksack. It was hidden in the long grass just over to his right, the iron blade glinting in the moonlight like a fallen star.

Daniel checked back at the slow zombie. It had been dragging itself across the gravel the entire time Daniel hadn’t been watching. It was now close enough to reach his boot.

The zombie suddenly reached forwards, grabbing his foot. It seemed to be trying to get up on its useless feet. Daniel brought his foot back, and then down on the zombie’s head, pounding his leather steel-capped boot against its visible skull with a *crack* that rang out like a cannon-blast.

Yet it still feebly dragged itself forwards, crawling bit by bit to him. Which gave Daniel plenty of time to grab his belongings. He ran forward and reached out with his fingers - completely unexpecting the spear to come to him in a fluid motion, like a piece of metal attracted to a magnet. Daniel ceased moving, and looked at his now armed hands, his mind boggled. Did I just do that, or was that my ruddy imagination playing tricks on me?

Since his apparent resurface of magic a few hours ago, he had thought that would be the last feat of mystic abilities he would do in a while. Yet now, after a break of 11 years, it suddenly reappears like a jack in the box, hard and fast. It was almost as if his own magic was trying to tell him something…

Reality came crashing down on him like a tidal wave as soon as he felt cold, dead hands painfully clench his ankles. Instinctively, Daniel whipped around, taking a few steps back, and raised his spear up above his shoulders, the blade pointed at the monster’s throat. In one motion, he pushed his spear down on the aimed neck, ripping open a gaping hole in its windpipe, killing it instantly. The spear went through rotten flesh, then nothing as the blade hit the ground beneath the zombie’s chest. Little blood of what had remained before corruption splattered over the gravel, green drops trickling down its rags. The zombie raised its hands in one final attempt to grab at Daniel, before finally going limp, the empty body almost as if resting on the shaft of the grounded spear.

Daniel stood there a few seconds, shocked at what he had just done, before an unexpected wave of exhaustion swept over him, forcing him to lean against his own weapon. He couldn’t help but stare at the death he had just caused, even if it was a monster of corruption. Was this how every adventurer felt, when they first landed a killing blow on another living (or nonliving) being? would he have to spend the rest of his life always contemplating how he had destroyed his first creature?

He didn’t know if any of that would happen, but what Daniel did realise was that if he didn’t get up and move soon, he wouldn’t be around to think about his muddled emotions. With much struggle, he pulled back his spear from the bodies throat, making an even bigger hole in its now useless windpipe. Stepping back as the zombie’s head landed on the ground, he checked his bloody spear. The blade and some of the shaft had been covered in a poisonous shade of green mutated blood. He could almost imagine the liquid starting to melt through the tough oak wood. With a look of disgust, he wiped the blade clean of blood on a patch of long wavy grass, before heading over to pick up his bag. Two amounts of magic was enough for one night, and there was no reason to magically summon the rucksack, that would be too lazy.

A magnified groan pierced Daniels ears before he could reach it. He froze, his ears watchfully listening where the sound came from. He heard another, this time an animal snarl, like a lion fighting over its prey. He slowly turned his head around, careful not to be too quick, as it would have spooked whatever was watching him. Suddenly an inhuman howl came from his left. Then another snarl at the front. There wasn’t just one creature stalking him, there were more! How many more, he couldn’t tell. But the creature’s were making a din, moaning and hissing, getting closer and closer… to him…

The zombies emerged from their hiding places, nearly all at once like a well oiled machine, appearing from all sides. They practically looked all like the first zombie, only slightly different in amounts of rotting limbs and rags. Two had peeled faces, eye sockets and cracked nose slits visible. One wore a mouldy leather cap and dragged a splintered wooden sword behind him, unable to physically hold it up properly.

The rest twitched and snarled, saliva dripping from their ajaw broken mouths, slowly going for the kill.

He was surrounded.

Survival instincts kicked in immediately. Daniel raised his spear in a fighting stance, cautious for the first attack, turning his eye’s to observe the numbered enemy. They were slowly creeping towards him, confident the kill was certain. They weren’t showing any unusual movement, nothing to show they were about to strike -

WHACK! The zombie wielding the wooden sword had silently crept around Daniel, and bashed the dented hilt on his leather helmet. It wasn’t painful, thanks to his armour, but it was enough to make him lose his footing and stumble. And that was just what the rest of the zombie’s needed.

The undead in front swung its clawed fist at his face. Daniel naturally ducked, then blocked the next hand, twisting it back. He definitely felt it break from the pressure. The zombie howled and stepped back, clutching its gruesomely twisted hand in its other arm. So the zombie’s still feel physical pain, Daniel thought, his mind racing from adrenaline. Kind of makes the whole idea of “undead” useless, I think.

Wasting no time, he sprinted to the zombie, grabbed its head with both hands, and dropped like a stone, bringing down the creature with his weight. It smashed its head on a sharp upturned piece of gravel, splitting open its skull. Daniel fell down with it, landing heavily on the hard road. He wheezed from the unexpected winding. Maybe that wasn’t the best thing to do, but at least it knocked out the zombie. Sure enough, the monster was out cold after the fall, it’s ulcer covered tongue lolling out of its mouth.

Pushing off with his hands, Daniel leaped up and landed on his feet, summoning his spear from sheath to his hand. He stood opposedly against the remaining zombies, who were almost looking at him more cautiously, now keeping their distance. The armed zombie wasn’t believing any of that however. It scrambled past his fellow corrupted & straight towards him raising its sword, a desperate growl rumbling from the back of its throat. At the last second, the zombie swung its wooden weapon down, trying to split its meal in half. Daniel blocked the strike using his shaft, but felt himself slipping down, landing on one knee. The zombie was incredibly strong, and was determined to finish the young human right where he stood, its twisted face heavy in concentration.

Pushing against the force of the monster, Daniel heaved its weight off his spear to the right, and brought the flat of the blade back around, hitting the zombie full on in the cheek. It literally went flying, soaring back a few metres from the blow, and lay sprawled on the ground, not getting up again. Another magic act.

Heavy footsteps pounded the ground behind him, getting closer. He couldn’t react fast enough to stop rotting hands wrap around his throat, squeezing him into a chokehold. This zombie seemed to be a lot more stronger than the rest. Daniel scrabbled his fingers to get a grip on its head, but he couldn’t reach far enough to grab it. The monster mercilessly kept hold of his neck, determined to finish his life. He could see spots flash before his eye’s, and everything suddenly grew darker…

About a few seconds before Daniel would have collapsed, he wildly lashed out with his foot, making contact with the zombie’s groin. It’s hands unexpectedly let go with a gurgle of pain. He could hear the monster fall over, landing on the gravel. Daniel leaped out of of reach, staggering back up and clutched his chest, wheezing and coughing. Another second there and he would have passed out, and eaten alive.

Summoning his spear, he viewed the remaining undead. The previous zombie had gotten back up, and wasn’t too happy to see him still alive. But, wait… surely there wasn’t that much in the ambush altogether? Or did they just call for “backup”?

It came to a sudden conclusion as soon as he saw two armoured zombies. There were more zombies. They had gained more while Daniel had been busy with the first three!

There were so many, he couldn’t estimate the total. If he even attempted to take this horde, he’d be dead before sunrise.

He needed to escape. But how? He couldn’t go back the way he came, or he’d have to face Alkoraan again. And he clearly couldn’t go forward, thanks to the horde.

Would he have a chance if he went further into the plains on the left? There was no civilisation in the wild for miles. Not to mention the more powerful mobs.

He’d have to make his way through the zombies. The outcome looked uncertain, but it was the best option. The rest of the province, Detlas, Almuj, his mother, was waiting for him…

The horde was approaching extremely quickly. In a few seconds, they’d be right on top of him. He had to make a choice. Now.

Daniel took a deep breath, and willed enough energy into his already exhausted legs. Trying to not regret what he was about to do, he summoned and shouldered his bag, sprinted to the zombies, raising his spear, and yelled.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 3 - part two

He jumped.

It wasn’t an extraordinary jump, just a leap driven by courage. And that was what sent him straight past the surprised undead.

He closed his eyes tight the entire time, expecting corrupted hands and teeth rip into his flesh ferociously, but it never came. Instead, intense wind buffeted past his head, ruffling his hair and scarf. He opened his eyes, expecting to see ground beneath him, completely unexpecting the ground was far below him.

He was soaring through the air in a long arc, completely out of control, the furious horde left long behind him. Although he couldn’t control how to fly, the feeling was spectacular. He let out a whoop of excitement as he swooped over the entrance of Nivla forest. So far, his magical abilities hadn’t really helped him too much. But this! a spell to physically jump beyond normal heights, it was astounding. With this kind of magic, he would be unstoppable! Invincible! the greatest Warrior the province has ever -

He yelled in horror as the dense tree’s eagerly rushed up to meet him. He was falling, down, down like a rock dropped by an eagle. He crashed headfirst into the tall oaks, sharp sticks and leaves scratching him all over as he tumbled through the bush, leaving cuts and sore marks. It felt like an expansion of forever, just falling past the clumped sticks and leaves. Then unexpectedly he reached the bottom of the shrubbery on top of the tree’s, landing uncomfortably on the messy leaf-ridden forest floor. He lay there quite still for a bit, groaning and rubbing every inch of his visible skin. After a few minute’s he propped himself up on his elbows, surveying the surroundings.

It was dark. Too dark to see even his own injured hands, as he held them up to eye height, checking for any deep cuts. The tree’s were definitely helping with that, blocking off any trace of the moon and the stars, like he was underneath a giants blanket. A sweet musky smell of sap and composing leaves filled the air, lingering like a bad stench. And the forest itself was a maze of fallen logs, tall unreachable branches & shrubbery, with overgrown roots sticking out from the ground, patiently waiting to trip you up.

Daniel realised he had shivers running up his spine. It may of been cold, but it wasn’t that that was giving him the shivers. Nivla woods was a perfect place for monsters and bandits to hide, hunting unsuspecting travellers using the shadows. The forest had dangerous secrets, and that was what was bothering him. For all he knew, someone - or something - could be watching him now…

Look at me, he thought, shaking his head. I’m being too paranoid about this. I mean, its not like I’m gonna be attacked if I just stay here, right?

He glanced in front of him, a particularly dense group of tree’s, and snorted. Gah, I am too paranoid about this. My minds playing tricks, it almost looked like a pair of eye’s was watching me…

Daniel snapped his head back forwards with shock. There, hidden in the trees, was a group of red, unblinking eye’s. Not just a pair, a dozen, not moving, just staring at Daniel.

He stared back, unsure what to do. Who did those eye’s belong too? It didn’t seem to be aggressive. Maybe it was just a curious forest animal who had come to investigate his crash.

What was he talking about? Innocent forest animals don’t have twelve red eyes, that's just freaky.

Was it his imagination, or did the amount of eye’s double? There was now at least 20 red eye’s staring at him. A eerie sound filled the air, a string of babbling clicks and growls, magnified by the forests silence. Daniel was starting to cautiously stand up, twisting his spear nervously in his hand. An old phobia was awakening from its long slumber, hoping to see if the creature’s Daniel was looking at were what it wanted, which he hoped it wasn’t…

His head was pounding with blood, a high pitch noise was ringing in his ears...

But this was bound to happen if he entered Nivla Woods, to be attacked by something he had dreaded since he was 7 years old…

He realised what had come to find him.

Spiders.

 

Prodigy
A WynnCraft Adventure
Chapter 4

"Rescue's & Allies"
​

Spoiler: Chapter 4 - part one

The hooded figure sat comfortably on the fallen tree, warming his hands by the merrily crackling campfire. Heat from the flames melted away the envious cold of the night, like ice turning to water. The mage smiled underneath his dark red hood, content with where he was, and how today had turned out.

Compared to what life had been for this young man only a few months ago to now, it had definitely taken a turn for the better. Here he was, with his training nearly complete, his skills in the medical field improved a lot more, and a entire forest as his playground, his training area - his temporary home.

He’d been living in the depths of Nivla Woods for around 3 months, travelling from shelter to shelter, secluded from everything. In the right moments, it was an amazing place to practice magic, and overall, live. He didn’t plan on living in Nivla woods his entire life, no. If he did that, he might as well strip bare naked and swing through the trees, declaring he was one with the wild. He wasn’t that crazy to attempt an idea like that. So he’d decided earlier today he would contact civilisation once more, by getting out of Nivla Forest and heading to Detlas, gather more information - particularly news about the rebels from the west - and find a new spot somewhere else in the province. Perhaps a visit to the coast was necessary, for the only place he had been to near ocean was Nemract - the day he stepped onto the ferry to mage island, and the night he shamefully rowed back on his little dinghy, humiliated by his corrupt peers and expelled, defrauded for something he thought was right.

The mage chucked another stick into the fire, watching it disintegrate with a stone-cold face. Indeed, as long as there were no setbacks before tomorrow, he would be at Detlas in less than a day - half, if there were any horses for hire along the river path. And honestly, he really wasn’t expecting anything out of the blue to happen tonight. The day had been rather slow for a start. No adventurers in trouble, no groups of spiders terrorising the forest village, and the unusually intelligent undead that roam the forest hadn’t been seen for days. It was almost as if the forest was listening to the mages prayers to stop the increasing unrestfulness of the monsters. He hoped the gods of Wynn had a part in that too.

A muffled yell rang through the dense trees, ricocheting between them as an echoe. The mage heard it as clear as water with his enhanced hearing, a side effect when working with magic. He sprang up from his natural seat, grabbing his wand from the deep pocket of his red and yellow lined robes. He stopped moving, his neck craned. He could hear no other sound after the shout, but being cautious is a virtue. There could be someone out there right now in danger -

“AAHH-MFF!” Another yell, coming from the same direction! The mage had been right, there was someone in trouble! Of all nights, a full moon for Wynn’s sake, he had to venture into the woods now…

The mage grabbed his small bag and set off through the trees, careful not to trip over any sneaky roots. He was jogging at a brisk pace, bounding past the maze of trees, keeping steady to look for any more shouting or movement.

He heard it again, this time a sentence. “GET - OFF - MFFF-”

It sounded like this person was being suffocated by something. How big, he wasn’t sure. But if he didn’t find this mysterious person soon, he doubt the spider’s of these woods would let him bury a body…

He broke into a sprint, his eye’s peeled for anything. He could hear the sounds more clearly now, a mixture of *whacks* and inhuman chattering. Just hang on, whoever you are, the mage thought desperately, as he rushed to the sounds. Just hold on…

* * * * *​

Daniel couldn’t hold out any longer.

His mind and body was unprepared since the spiders swarmed him, and now he felt like a volcano, ready to self-destruct. Pain, fear - exhaustion - was filling him to the brim, spilling out, choking him. He couldn’t do anything against the attack except attempt to fight back - but every lift of the arm or block felt like he was lifting dumbbells, and was going to snap off from the pain and pressure.

There was nowhere to move, or any space to swing his spear. The spear would end up catching on one of the trees, or a spider the size of a dog would jump in front of him, blocking a way out, then latch onto one of his arms, clinging like a leech.

The spider’s had attacked hard and fast. As far as he knew, or cared, an entire nest was stationed near where he landed, and immediately found him. A wall - an entire wall - of the vicious little brutes had toppled over him, hidden by the concealed bushes. At first, he was suffocated, unable to breathe from the weight of the pile. And it was awful just squirming to get out. Black hairy legs the size of his arms waving in his face, thousands of red eye’s staring greedily into his soul, massive pincers clicking at him, hopeful for just a scrap of flesh.

After a brief and strength-sucking struggle, he managed to break free of the doggy pile from Nether, and gained a fighting stance. Everything else had been a blur, and a fight for survival. He turned left, spiders blocked him. He turned right, another bit his foot.

He was trying as hard as he could to slash and stab and block, but the space around him was very little.

“Get - away - you - little - demonspawn -” Daniel shouted through gritted teeth, as he clocked a spider in the head, sending it flying and landing neatly into a thorn bush. More spiders hissed in retaliation, and continued the struggle. The more he took down, more would take their place. If this didn’t end soon, he would be eaten alive, or worse.

He doubled over in agony, as a burning pain like a hot poker pierced his lower calf. He staggered and landed on all fours, kicking away whatever had bitten him. He felt his foot connect with something big, that instantly crumpled from the force of his leg. Tears of pain were streaming down his eyes, blinding him. The spider’s saw this as an opportunity, and instantly rushed over him, biting him again and again. He screamed from the intense pain of it all. It was too much - he couldn’t move anything, he couldn’t lift his spear, let alone his hand. The venom was slowly paralysing him, filling him like a corked bottle. This was it. He was going to die, he was sure of it. Had to happen the first day he stepped out of Ragni, didn’t it?

He couldn't think. Blood was pounding in his head, ticking away every last second he had left. He never made it to Almuj, to his mother. And she would never know he died in his vain attempt to reach her. Hell, he never even made it out of the woods.

It was all fading fast. First the corners of his vision blackened, then slowly everything else turned gray. But the pain was still there, only numb now. The spiders scuttling over him, it was...unsettling. But that didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. All he needed to do was close his eyes, and wait for it to end…

Has it ended?...

A bright light shone in front of him, like a pleasant ray of sunshine, turning the inside of his closed eyelids red. He flickered them open, and struggled to look up with his trembling head.

The light was comforting, like a large weight had just been lifted off his back. Yet it seemed also a source of great power, of controlled magic. Now that he thought about it, he definitely felt like he could get up. Were the spiders leaving?

They were! He could feel them crawling off his badly cut back, hurriedly fleeing from the clearing, leaving their newly found meal. They were afraid of this light. But that could also mean a bad thing. Could that light be an even bigger beast, scaring away the smaller spiders so it could have his dead body all to itself?

No, it couldn’t be. He could see a human like figure behind the light… he was holding something in his hand, and the bright light was appearing from the end of the object… could this be… a mage?

He was having a horrible time keeping his head straight. At last, his neck gave in, and he lowered his vision, just as the light was extinguished, and the hooded figure knelt beside Daniel. The last thing he saw was a concerned, young unrecognisable face, and a hand reaching out to him. His eyes rolled back, and he fell into darkness, seeing no more.

* * * * *​

The hole seemed to go on forever, leading into a bottomless abyss, a gateway to somewhere unknown - and dangerous. He peered down the hole, trying to find any sign of the bottom. It was a sheer drop. It was no wonder that monster down there was so hard to find, not to mention impossible to destroy…

Daniel could hear a voice that sounded very far away. He didn’t know where he was, or who the voice belonged to. But it was definitely getting closer… First incoherent murmuring, then unfocused mutters. He felt like he was swimming in deep water with a blindfold, and was about to reach the surface -

“Hey,” A hand gently shoved his shoulder, shaking him quietly. “Wake up. Come on man, wake up.”

Daniel tried to open his eye’s, but he still felt weak. He must of been sleeping for quite some time, as great gunks of sleep were glued around his eyelids, making it a struggle to raise.

“Oi,” The person shoved him again, this time a little harder. “I know you’re awake, you were just muttering. Wake up already…”

Daniel slowly opened them, and blinked a few times, taking in his bright surroundings. He was lying at the foot of a fallen log, situated in a small grassy clearing. They still appeared to be in the forest, but this part felt a lot more friendlier. The first rays of morning sunlight shone through the tall trees and wavy grass, leaving light shadows for everywhere the warmth couldn’t reach. It was too bright to see what lay off in the distance, but from what Daniel guessed, it was more woods. The log he had his head lain upon had been chopped by axe, not natural fall - obviously to use as a makeshift seat. A small campfire smoldered the last of its fuel in the centre of the clearing. It must of been going strong for a while now, as the brittle sticks and charcoal looked lukewarm, strands of smoke feebly rising from the depths. Remains of cooked freshwater fish had been scattered in the grass beside the fire, gnawed free of meat. “Wha -?” Daniel exclaimed groggily, raising his head further. He immediately regretted that decision, as pain shot up his body like stinging nettles. His stomach began to churn, and he lay back down carefully. Where was he? this wasn’t familiar at all.

And his head was on fire! It was throbbing like his heart had replaced his brain. Now that he moved a bit, his whole body was sore. There were a few parts that felt more stinging than usual, which was odd. Maybe they were sore joints.

“Easy there, mate,” The unknown voice said. “You took a hard beating before.”

Daniel raised his head once more, and jumped a little from shock. How had he not seen him before? He was right in front of him!

A cloaked man sat relaxed on a fallen log opposite to him, watching him with concerned brown eye’s. He looked about the same age as Daniel, with the same type of jet black hair that looked ruffled no matter where you place it. He had a thin build, with red robes lined with a dark yellow, and a hidden black tunic underneath, along with grey baggy trousers to big for his size, and simple brown boots. Daniel noticed a small long bulge inside the pocket of his robe, about the size of a small stick.

Could that be a wand? it definitely looked like the shape. If so, then he may just be sharing space with a being that can control magic from their very fingertips!

The mysterious man noticed his direction of vision, and casually pushed the object further into his pocket, hiding it completely.

“Where am I?” Daniel croaked at the man, taking in his features.

“Outskirts of Nivla Forest,” He replied, still looking concerned, passing him a gourd of water for his dry throat. “We’re safe here, there’s too much light for monsters to roam. It’s the deeper parts of the forest people need to be worried about.” He sighed. “It sucks that thats the first thing people do when they go into these Woods.”

“What, get lost?” Daniel asked, as he took a long drought of water from the gourd.

“Exactly. They don’t know where they going, or how they’re going to get out.” He replied. “Speaking of which…”

The young man leant over and punched him - hard in the shoulder. Normally Daniel wouldn’t feel it with his tough skin, but he was still weak. His shoulder throbbed from the punch.

He spluttered water everywhere. “Ow!” Daniel complained. “What did you do that for?!”

“Were you trying to get yourself killed?” The man asked fiercely, ignoring his cry. “You do realise monsters are more powerful at night, right? and even more on the night of the full moon!”

“Not my fault,” Daniel mumbled, massaging his arm. “I crashed…”

Either he wasn’t listening to him anymore, or he wasn’t bothering with excuses. The mage turned away from him, hunched over something. Daniel couldn’t tell well with his back in the way, but he seemed to be packing items into something. Probably a bag. “How long have I been out?” Daniel asked meekly, rubbing sleep from his eye’s.

“A few hours,” He replied, his back still turned to him. “I found you after the spiders took a fair chunk out of you. I managed to drag you to this clearing. Made a fire, and you were asleep straight away. Gave me enough time to make an ointment for all those spider bites. You were out cold for most of the while.”

“Spider bites?” Daniel repeated, as looked over his visible skin. They were riddled with red puncture marks, some of them already starting to scab up. “I thought the Nivla spiders were poisonous!”

“Well, they are,” He replied, still packing various items. “What made you think they weren’t?”

Daniel raised his hands in a shrugging gesture. “Oh, I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I’m still alive?”

“The ointment should have siphoned most of the venom out of your bloodstream,” He answered, confirming his hopes. “There’s still a fair amount of poison still left in you though.”

Daniel’s hopes of surviving crashed down instantly. “You mean I’m still gonna die?!” He cried.

The mage raised his hand to stop him from talking further. “Yes, you will die - if we don’t get to a proper healer. I’m a mage, not a fully fledged medic.”

“Okay… so where’s the nearest healer?”

“There’s a full hospital in Detlas. If we make it out of here before afternoon, the poison won’t have kicked in, and you won’t be dead before sunset.”

“Gee, that sounds comforting,” Daniel muttered, kicking a small branch away. The mage stopped, and stared at Daniel with a guilty face.

“I’m sorry,” he spoke. “I’m not normally this cold. Heck, I never am. Its not everyday I meet a person who can take over a bottle full of venom, and still survive.”

He turned fully around, and walked over to him. “I think we got off on the wrong foot.”

He held out his hand, expecting a shake. “I’m Alar,” He introduced himself.

Daniel wearily took his hand still sitting, and shook. “Daniel,” He replied, “Daniel Brew.”

Alar pulled him up on his feet. “So, you want to get moving?” He offered. “That poison won’t get rid of itself.”

“Yeah, I guess,” said Daniel, grabbing his neatly piled bag and spear. Alar shouldered his own rucksack, and after stomping on the remains of the fire, they walked towards the sun.

* * * * *​

The two young adventurers had been trudging through heavy bush for at least half an hour now, and Daniel was starting to think like he and Alar had been childhood friends - in only the expanse of less than a day.

He just had so much in common with the guy! His favourite meal, favourite breed of horse, combat skills. He also had a strong opinion on how the province worked these days.

“The united table of province kings has given Wynn excavation too many loans this year,” Alar had exclaimed while chopping through hanging vines with their weapons, Daniel his spear, Alar his wand. He was using a spell that turned the stick into a machete-like tool, hacking viciously. “Especially in Almuj. I heard they found an ancient pharaoh dated back past our own races arrival. And you know what they did to it?”

“What?” Daniel asked, flicking a sneaky root off his shoe. He was interested in this ‘Wynn excavation’. It seemed a lot dodgier than what it should be.

“They split it, and burned it to power their massive excavation machines!” He raised his hands in despair. “Honestly, why call yourself an excavation company if you don’t know what real artifacts are?”

“Who owns the company?” Daniel asked.

“No one knows,” Alar replied. “He - or she - lives in complete secrecy. Doesn’t show up to any important occasion, not even the Wynnter festival.”

“Surely thats bad for them though?”

“Well of course. The owner sends in its minions. Its usually the vice-chairperson of their company board, a guy named Elk. Slippery guy, I’ve heard,” he added.

They stopped talking for a bit, focusing instead on chopping away unwanted branches and leaves. It gave Daniel enough time to think.

He had only just recently met Alar, and he’s so helpful he decides to get him through the woods and take him to Detlas? Sure, he was literally a ticking time bomb filled with slow acting venom, and that might be one reason why he was so friendly. He know he would feel happy with himself if he saved someone else’s life.

But there was something...weird about him. The problem was, he didn’t know what. It was a nagging feeling in the back of his head, always retreating when he thought about it, and attacked when he was off guard.

You just met him, it hissed in his ear. You can’t trust him, its too risky.

He would have to get an answer out of him - one way or another. For now, Daniel just focused on putting one step ahead of him. There was so much forage here, it was hard just to stand, let alone walk.

As they were climbing up a steep hill, Daniel spoke. “Hey, are you sure we couldn’t have just gone on the forest path?” He panted, following the nimble mage up the mound of dirt. “It would’ve been a lot faster.”

“The paths infested with monsters,” Alar replied. “So many people use the path, undead can smell their magic a mile away. Problem is, to them, magic can leave traces. So sometimes when they’re expecting a whole party of travelers, there’s nothing there. But they can still smell magic, and they just stay there.” Alar imitated an undead, a twisted snarl on his face. “They won’t go until they find the person they think is there, which they’re not. Magic can stay in an area for at least a week until finally realizing there’s no physical anchors to hold it.”

“Physical Anchors? you mean us?”

“Yep. If there’s no humans, the magic evaporates, becoming one with the wind.”

Alar finally reached the top, then turned around and pulled Daniel up with him. He straightened back up, dusting dirt off his already messy tunic. “How far do have til we reach the edge of the forest?” He asked, keeping up with the now jogging mage.

“We’re still a fair distance away from the river. There’s a place just up ahead we can stop at, for a bit.”

“Stopping?” Daniel exploded. “I’m literally going to die at the end of the day! I really don’t think we have enough time to rest!”

Oh, don’t worry,” Alar called back, as he chopped through more unwanted shrubbery. “You’ll enjoy stopping here, I guarantee it.”

He then passed through more bush, ducked down - and disappeared. Daniel looked at the last place he saw Alar, shocked. “Alar?” He shouted. “Where’d you go?”

He heard his voice in front of the bushes, muffled. “I’m okay! Just keep walking, It’s fine!”

Guess he had to take his word for it. Daniel cautiously walked through the bush, pushing aside leaves, and made it out of the end, climbing down the steep slope. His mouth dropped.

It was like the bush was a portal to another tropical world. He was looking at a lush clearing, bright green grass covering the earth with the odd colourful flower protruding above. The trees surrounding the clearing were filled with delicious fruit, almost groaning from the weight. You could have used the place as an orchard, and made a fortune.

But the prize jewel of the scene was the small waterfall running from a hidden stream. The clear blue water peacefully rushed down the smooth rock cliff, landing in the beautiful lily pad covered pond below.

Daniel heavily walked down the slope, landing on the soft grass. He had to spin around to get a good view of everything. It was amazing! a paradise hiding in the bog! Now, he was definitely impressed.

“Wow,” Daniel breathed, taking in his surroundings. Alar grinned. “What did I tell you?” He laughed. “I knew you were going to enjoy this.”

Alar then turned and walked over to a patch of grass right beside the waterfall. “We can stop here for a bit, catch our bearings, find out which direction we go to next,” he started. “And then its straight on to Detlas!”

Alar sat down, using his rucksack as a back support. He raised his arms around his head, relaxing. “You can fill up your gourd, the waters fine,” He motioned to Daniel, pointing at the water.

He nodded, and began walking over. It seemed a lot further than it looked. A second before he thought he was right beside the waterfall…

Wait, that can’t be right. He was sure he was right by it. So then why did he feel so far away?

His knees trembled dangerously. His stomach churned. He was starting to sweat, and more blood was pounding in his head. The ground below him looked horribly distorted. His whole world was spinning precariously.

“Daniel?” Came a voice. Who was that? it sounded familiar, but he couldn’t remember who. Whoever it was, they were really far away. Then he remembered what he was doing.

“I’m just -” Daniel muttered, still staggering, “I’m just filling up… my… water bottle…”

He could see the water rush up to meet him like an eager dog, and a split second before contact, he fell into darkness, missing the rushing water.

 

Spoiler: Chapter 4 - part two

A hand grabbed his collar with a hard grip, and pulled him out, dragging him onto the crystal sand. The water seemed to have refreshed him from whatever had taken hold of him before, as he felt normal again, and his sight was restored. A figure loomed above him, as he coughed out water. “Oh no,” Alar moaned as he was hunched over, breathing deeply.

“What just happened?” Daniel cried, ripping off his checkered scarf and squeezed, drying it out.

“Its the poison,” Alar muttered, standing up straight. “Its starting to spread more quickly into your bloodstream.”

Daniel felt a cold hand clench his heart mercilessly. “More quickly?” Daniel asked, paling.

“Yeah, more quickly,” Alar answered. He then rushed over to where his gourd was lying, grabbed it, and began searching the ground, checking for something. Daniel watched him the entire time curiously. At last, Alar found what he was looking for, and triumphantly pulled out a patch of strange looking purple leaves. Alar crushed them with a flat rock, turning them into powder, and poured the mix into his gourd. He hurried back over to Daniel, pressing the gourd into his hands.

“Drink,” he said forcefully.

Taking Alar’s word for it, he raised the gourd to his lips - and drunk. As soon as he finished half of it, he put it back down, wiping his mouth. He felt a peculiar feeling float down his entire body, like he was lighter than a cloud, tingling at the tips of his toes. He felt a lot better.

“What was that?” Daniel asked, giving the gourd back to Alar.

“A common medicinal herb, used in pain relief remedies. It also works as an alcohol or venom slower. It should slow the venom enough to only less than a half a second, hopefully.”

Alar sat back down again, exhausted. They stayed like that for at least quarter of an hour, too tired to say anything at all. It was not until a few hours before midday that Daniel spoke.

“You know, that’s now two times you’ve saved me in less than a day.”

Alar grinned. “Yeah. Kind of makes you think what could have happened if I hadn’t been there, huh?”

Daniel swallowed. Now was the perfect time to ask. He had to find out. “Why were you there?” He asked.

Alar gave him a curious look. “Excuse me?”

“Why were you in Nivla Forest? You said before that you’d already dealt with people like me before I was rescued. Why, of all places, would you choose to live here? I mean, don’t get me wrong,” He added, raising his hands up to the trees. “This place would be great to have a picnic, or something, but to live here? You’d be sharing it with an entire army of monsters.”

Alar opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, looking at the ground. “You really wanna know, don’t you?” He asked.

“Honestly, yes. But if you’re uncomfortable about it, you don’t need to tell me,” He quickly added.

He waved the suggestion away. “No, its fine,” He replied. Taking a deep breath, he slowly began his tale.

“I was born in Ternaves, the horse capital of the province. My mother was a horse breeder, and my dad had a small crop field he worked on. Sold whatever he grew out of it. Eventually, he made enough money to travel around the province, his lifelong dream. I was seven at the time.

He went in the morning of the recruitment day, when Detlas class trainers came to observe anyone good enough to join the army. He didn’t want to go and fight a war, which was exactly why he left early. After that, I don’t know what happened to him.”

“You mean he disappeared?”

“Yeah. Never saw him after that. The only thing I got from him afterwards was a letter, saying he had met another group of adventurers that had just set off from Ragni. He wrote they were all chain armour ranked adventurers, so I guess he felt pretty intimidated.” He chuckled unhumorously.

Daniel’s heart rose. Chain armoured, and came from Ragni? He and Alar were around the same age, and he was seven when his father left. Could one of those warriors in the group be that same adventurer he met years ago? And if he was there, where would they be now?

“Anyways,” Alar continued, “I showed traces of magic when I was about ten. Not just explosive, mind you. Controlled magic. So my mum saw me create magic, and she knew I was destined to be a mage. She managed to take me to Nemract by horse, bought me a space on a ferry, and sent me off to Mage island, hopeful I would come back as a protector of Ternaves. I haven’t seen her since.”

“What was it like on Mage island?”

“Tough. A lot tougher than you would expect. Hours and hours of poring over spell books, medical training, physical exercise, combat techniques and spells. I was mind blown on how much I had to do.

But I learnt so much, in less than a year! The stuff I could do before I came a teenager was - astounding. But I never let the power go all to my head... Unlike my ‘fellow mages’”, he said darkly, frowning.

“What was wrong with them?” Daniel asked, sitting up a bit more.

Alar turned his head towards him, looking him dead in the eye. “Everything.”

“They were corrupt from the start, those three. Eliq, Tarnobb and Barnabas,” he recited their names, ticking them off with his fingers. “From the moment they began practising magic, they had been writing letters to the rebels of the east, plotting to join them as soon as their training was complete. The amount of evil magic the rebels own dark wizards sent to them was just - disturbing. And they replied with news about gaps and weaknesses in the province’s government. They were only at least eighteen when I discovered what they were up to, and they weren’t happy to see me. They duelled me right one the spot, all of them,” He spat on the grass in anger. “I had no chance. Then things just got worse.

There’s a no fighting policy between students of any sort on the island, so you can guess what happened to me.”

Daniel stared, his mouth open in outrage. “They expelled you?! For something you didn’t do?!”

He nodded sadly in reply. “I got sent back in a little dinghy, forced to row all the way back to shore in the middle of a storm. Now there was no one to stop those three from joining the rebellion, not even the teachers. Hell, they’re probably ranked up to grand dark wizards by now. Might be searching for my blood as we speak.”

Daniel watched Alar with sympathy, eager to hear more. So he was a dropout mage. He really didn’t expect that, from someone who looked capable of toppling a mountain giant with just his wits.

Alar continued. “I was still determined to help others though. I trained by myself, using the few books I grabbed from their library. I went everywhere I could reach, by boat, by foot, by carriage,” He had summoned a twisted branch and was toying with it, making it hover above his palm. “I made sure I was ready to help - to serve.

Then about 3 days before my 21st, I was visiting Detlas, looking for more jobs so I could pay for food and what-not. I heard about the mythical Nivla Forest,” he raised his arms up in an attempt to make a big dramatic sequence, emphasising the importance of the woods. “From what I heard, the woods sounded like a great place to complete my training. So I stocked up, travelled to here, and here we are now.” He broke the stick in half, while it was still in the air. It fell to the ground in pieces. “I’ve been living here for 2 months, and my trainings now complete. I’ve been helping other adventurers getting past these accursed trees since then, and dealing with the spider infestation.”

“Well, no offense, but you haven’t been doing great with the spiders thing,” Daniel joked. “I’m living proof of it.”

“Hey, thats not my fault!” Alar protested as Daniel laughed. “You were right beside the forest’s biggest spiders nest, I couldn’t go near that place!”

Daniel couldn’t stop laughing. Alar watched him for a few seconds, before cracking a smile and breaking into laughter too.

After all that Daniel had been through, he couldn’t stop laughing. All of the pressure and tension since yesterday had finally got to him, but he was happy to be where he was, and that was all that mattered. It was like a dam in his brain had broken, but all the frustration had been purified, washing into his head as a brand new thought.

They kept laughing for a couple more minutes, until finally sitting back up again, wiping tears from their eye’s. “So,” Alar hiccoughed, “What about you, Daniel? How did you “‘crash’” in the middle of the forest?”

It only took a quarter of time for Daniel to tell his story, compared to Alar’s depiction. He listened quietly though the whole thing, gasping at the right moments, nodding his head every so often. He started cracking up again after Daniel told him his description of flying.

“You think that’s amazing?” He said. “Try teleporting, see if you can get your head wrapped around that!”

By the time he finished, it was nearing midday, the sun directly above them. They had picked a few apples off the tree, and finished munching on them, throwing the core’s into the pond, then finally filling up their spare gourds to the brim. They were finally ready to leave.

Daniel grabbed his bag, sheathing the spear in his belt, and turned to face Alar. “Well, I’m ready,” He said.

Alar nodded. “Same here. We really need to get going.”

A rasping voice spoke behind him. “You’re not going anywhere, filth.”

He felt a sharp blade press against his neck, and a grubby hand grip his shoulder. His chest tightened with fear. He would have never expected this, especially at daylight.

“Turn around, slowly, and drop your weapons and bags!” another harsh voice barked behind him. Doing what they said, He and Alar carefully turned around, taking out their spear and wand, and placed them on the ground, along with their rucksacks. Daniel looked up to get a glimpse of the attackers.

Dark leather. Muddy boots. Muscled arms, with nicks and cuts scratched along them. Bruised and dirty faces with yellow and gapped teeth, malicious eye’s filled with hatred and greed. All equipped with crude swords and daggers.

Daniel’s breath was caught in his throat, as the bandits approached slowly. We’re doomed, he thought with despair.

 

Bumpity bump.
Hello, everyone! It's time for a Prodigy: A WynnCraft Adventure update! I know I haven't been as quick as I've wanted to be in terms of releasing new chapters, what with focusing on GuardianCraft (yes, that is still happening!) discovering an awesome new MMORPG by the name of Dragon Nest, fooling around with zombie/COD modpacks, & practically dying over homework. This is going to be different, trust me ;D
Plus, I'll be editing the rest of the journey so that it fits into the new update - so that you guys can get pumped along the road to Gavel. Basically that means you probably won't be seeing that much people with ordinary class weapons, like the spear, bow, etc. Instead, think of hammers, broadswords, staffs and claws :D
So I'll tell you the appropriate amount of progress so far:
Latest chapter: An Interesting Individual
Next chapter: Unexpected assault!
I'm excited to tell you that one new character will be introduced in the next chapter - he/she won't be automatically a part of Team Daniel, but you'll see them in a certain event in the next chapter. Keep your eyes peeled!
Well, that's all for today! Make sure to keep watching this thread in case I decide to re-upload a new chapter!
Peace :D

 

Prodigy
A WynnCraft Adventure
Chapter 5

"Trouble, most foul"​

Spoiler: Chapter 5 - part one

If you had told where Daniel would be right now before he left Ragni, he would have laughed and asked if you were joking or not. If there’s one important thing you haven’t noticed about our hero, it’s that he doesn’t take everything for granted, not until he sees actual proof.

And who would blame him? To be attacked and ambushed by bandits in broad daylight sounded preposterous. An idea only people with minds that think outside of the box, would imagine it to be, well - good.

The bandit’s had since then surrounded the unlikely pair of men, swinging their weapons with malicious intent. Daniel could hear them mutter and spit on the grass, watching their newly found victims like hawks. One above all who stood out, stepped between two ugly scarred bandits, planting his polished shoes on the grassy clearing. This was obviously their leader. Dressed in finer clothes than his companions, his face was set with a permanent sneer, long pointy eyebrows emphasizing his look. Added with a droopy yet well kept handlebar moustache, and a dozen knives strapped to his chain and iron chestplate, his whole demeanour looked dangerous. A man you wouldn’t want to meet, even at a fine ball.

Daniel and Alar, with the same mind, collided back-to-back, looking for any sudden movement. With a steel glare, Daniel spoke to the well dressed bandit. “We don’t want any trouble.”

The bandit watched him with a keen eye, observing his clothing and bag for a moment. Most definitely looking for anything worth stealing. He then said with a loud drawl, “Oh, I can tell. It would be difficult not to.”

The bandit took another step forward. “But you misunderstand!” he cried, a trace of mockery in his voice. “We aren’t here on bad terms, no! We’re simply looking for new friends,” He gestured to his followers. “To join our group,” he finished with a shark-toothed smile.

“Oh please,” Alar scoffed from behind, turning towards the bandits. “You guys never learn, do you? We know you’re here to rob us. It’s kind of hard not to get that vibe coming from you.”

“And how would you know that, my dear traveller?” Mr fancy bandit asked. “We have not attacked since we’ve arrived.”

Daniel pointed to the bandit holding their items. “How about the fact you held us at weapon point, and took our stuff?”

He shook his head. “I’m deeply sorry, friends. That was my, uh,” he thought for a second, “colleagues mistake. We were simply checking for any stashed items you had no use for.”

Alar face palmed, sighing with pity. “That’s got to be the worst excuse I’ve ever heard from a bandit. And I’ve heard plenty.”

“We don’t want a fight,” snarled Daniel. “But we’ll have to if you don’t give us back our belongings and leave - now.”

Mr fancy bandit clicked his fingers, and the rest moved forward. “Our terms are simple, gentlemen,” he continued smartly. “We take your gear, whatever is the most worth, your weapons and your emeralds -”

“Hey!” the bandit holding their bags cried. Daniel gasped, then grimaced as he pulled out of his bag, a pouch he thought no one, except him, would find. “This guys got gold coins! a whole lotta them!” he shouted excitedly. “I think he’s richer than you thought, sir.”
A few bandits shuffled toward the bandit holding Daniel's pouch, with exclaims of "Lemme see!" "Oh, we've hit the jackpot now!" "Don't shove, I wanna look!"

Alar gave him a look, as to suggesting he was saying, you have gold coins?! and you didn’t tell me?

Daniel turned away from him and looked back at the leader, who had snatched the pouch from the bandit with a “give me that!”, and was pulling out gold coins, examining them in the sunlight. “Huh,” he muttered, then continued his original speech. “As I was saying, before being rudely interrupted,” he shot a threatening glance at the reddening bandit. “We take your prized possessions, whatever else is useful, and we’ll let you go with your lives. Or, you keep your gear, but you join our group, unwillingly. Either than that, we kill you and take your gear anyway.” he threw back his head with forced laughter, and the bandits began fighting over the pouch filled with gold. Daniel gulped, and shared a look with Alar, who seemed equally worried. It didn’t look too well for all options. If they choose to give the men their gear and leave, they will be leaving with their dignity lost. And that certainly wasn’t the best way to go. “What do we do?” Daniel hissed to Alar. “They’ll kill us, even if we let them have our stuff.”

“Agreed. I got a few items in my bag that shouldn’t be in the hands of these idiots.”

“Then what do you suggest we do? Run?”

“Not until we have our equipment. Don’t worry, I have a plan…”

Alar cleared his throat, stepping in front of Daniel. The bandits stopped fighting between themselves, and looked back at him disdainfully, ready to hear his choice. “Well?” said the leader. “What’ll it be?”

“You can take our gear,” Alar replied, his voice etched with sorrow. After hearing this, Daniel cried out in outrage, but the bandits cheered loudly. This was his master plan? to give away their supplies? Surely he could do what he pleased with his bag, but he didn’t immediately get authority over his own!

The bandit clapped and rubbed his hands together with glee. “A fine choice, gentlemen!” Mr fancy bandit exclaimed. “Although we would have preferred that you joined our merry crew. It’s so hard to find good members these days.” He finished with a dramatic sigh, which resulted in Daniel rolling his eyes in disgust.

“But of course, we will keep our end of the bargain!” the leader continued, and he took off his feathered hat and made a little bow. “Farewell travellers! I’m sure your equipment will come in handy. For us!” he made another forced laugh, almost to queue Daniel’s and Alar’s departure.

“Come on Daniel,” Alar muttered, pulling his arm forcefully. “Let’s go.”

He spluttered at the mage, gesturing to the bandits. “Are you out of your mind? We could have easily taken those idiots down -”

Alar motioned for Daniel to be quiet. “It’s part of the plan,” he whispered, grinning. “Just watch what happens next.”

As they walked up the slope, Alar stopped, leaving Daniel to walk ahead. With a stage ‘Oh!’ he clicked his fingers and spun around, marching back to the bandits. “I forgot something,” said Alar.

Mr fancy bandit snarled with impatience. “What do you mean, ‘forgot something’? This is our equipment now.”

“It’s to do with my wand,” Alar pointed out, gesturing to the thin stick the bandit now held in his sweaty hand, who then immediately shoved it back in his pocket.

“Well, too bad! I don’t want you to put a - a charm or hex on it, or something.”

“Believe me, if I don’t do this, you’ll be worse off.” Alar crossed his arms, triumphant that he’d won this argument. Sure enough, the bandit sighed, then handed the wand over to him cautiously. “What are you doing?” he asked, paranoid.

“If mages need to hand over their wands to a rightful owner, they must officially declare it so. That is what I am about to do, a ‘Wand swap,’” Announced Alar. As soon as the bandits heard this, the majority stepped back with fright, but the rest, including the leader, came forward with interest.

Alar slowly closed his eyes, and held the wand out at shoulder height, humming slowly. Daniel was watching it all, keeping an eye on the bandits. This whole idea smelled of bogus. And he was sure he would of thought the same thing before, even if he hadn’t known Alar’s master plan.

A few moments passed, and no one was moving. It was so quiet, Daniel could hear leaves passing in the breeze. He breathed slowly, easing his leather boots across the sloped, mulch covered grass.

It was then that Alar began to speak in a weird voice. “I hereby declare,” he shouted, “That - uh - um - ”

He opened his eyes and looked at the leader. “I don’t believe I caught your name?” He prompted.

Mr fancy bandit sniffed, in a superior way. “Flaxas Filius the second.”

“Impressive name. As I was saying - I hereby declare that Flaxas Filius the second, is now the true and rightful owner -” he paused dramatically, adding tension - “of this wand.”

Daniel, along with the rest of the bandits, peered over their heads, checking for anything different. Nothing had happened. No sign of a magical ritual occurred in nature, not even a change in the wind.

Flaxas looked back at Alar, confused. “I don’t understand,” he said. “Nothing happened.”

“Oh, really?” Alar asked, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “Maybe that’s because there’s no such thing as a wand swap.”

With that, he brought his hand back, turning it into a fist, and swung it back around, hitting the bandit straight in the jaw. Daniel heard a bone shattering *crack*, and Flaxas staggered, before dropping like a stone. His crew could only just stand there, shocked at what had just happened.

Without hesitation, Alar brought his wand up, and the tip of the stick began to glow with a loud hum. “Daniel! Cover your eyes!” Alar yelled, as the light grew brighter and brighter, before finally -

He couldn’t close his eyes in time, and the price was unbearable. An extremely bright light flashed like a bolt of lightning in front of him, emanating from the figure he knew as Alar. He could feel his pupils begin to burn, and the shadow of the light permanently scarred itself on the inside of his eyelids. He brought them shut firmly, and yelled, as a ripple of air thundered past him, ringing in his eardrums and pulling him back, threatening to take him with it. Everything was screaming, he couldn’t see Alar anymore, he was going to have a heart attack -

The bright light vanished suddenly, as did the pulsing waves of air surrounding it. He stayed flat on the slope, afraid to stand, and his eyes shut tightly. The only thing he could hear was a high-pitched whine, ringing like bells in his ears. Panic rose in his chest like forced air. Did the force of that shockwave deafen him? How was he supposed to do anything if he was deaf?

Wait. I can hear… something. The pitched whine slowly faded away, and he could hear groaning. But it was echoed, and far away… He decided to take a peek, and opened his eyes. He immediately thought he had gone blind as well.

All he could see in front of him was dazzling sunshine, filling his vision. It faded back to normal, but his sight was blurred, rings circling his outer rims. With the strength of a drunk man, he pushed himself onto his feet, and his whole world went dizzy. The blurred rings doubled. he couldn’t stand properly. Daniel’s hand came into contact with something coarse but wet from dew - a tree. Leaning against it, he shook his head, and looked up, where he last saw the bandits.

All of them were lying, sprawled in a heap. He didn’t see anything else after that, as he couldn’t lift his head further. Any sooner and he would have thrown up.

Then, he heard someone. Calling his name. However, it was far, almost muffled. Daniel heavily craned his neck, searching for the person.

There he was, a figure rushing to him. He was wearing a robe of some sort, and holding a stick in his hand. He chuckled drowsily. A stick? What on earth would anyone want a stick as a weapon? that’s just -

“Daniel?! Daniel!” Alar’s head came into view. His presence was like someone had turned on a light in his brain, warming up his cold thoughts. Whatever drowsiness he had before, it had been wiped clean. He could think properly.

Alar gripped Daniel’s shoulder. “Daniel, we need to get out of here, the bandits are waking up!”

Just to check, he peered over Alar’s shoulder, horrified. They were still lying on the dirt, groaning. But he could see a few begin to raise their heads.

“What did you do to them?!” He cried.

“It’s called ‘Flashbang,’” Alar replied, as he summoned his and Daniel’s belongings. “I may have done it a bit too strong though. I’ve never created a distraction spell that powerful before.”

“You knocked them out!”

“For only a short amount of time!” He snapped, impatient as where the conversation was going. He shoved Daniel’s bag into his hands. “They’re waking up as we speak, we have to leave!”

With the speed of a leopard, he leapt up the grassy slope, tightening the straps on his bag. He turned around, expecting to see Daniel right behind him - but he hadn’t moved.

“Oi! What are you doing? we have to go!”

But Daniel wasn’t listening to him. He had no intention of leaving. Not until he got something from the bandit’s - and a little payback…

“I’ll be right back!” he yelled.

Like a cracked whip, Daniel sped down the hill, careful as to not slip on the leaf covered forest floor. In a few bounding step’s he crashed into the pile of bandits, grabbing one of the bandit’s clenched hand. There was a glimmer on the inside…

He forcefully pulled open the hand, and snatched his pouch of gold coins away, stuffing it into his trouser pocket, smiling with satisfaction. He had the gold. Now there was only one thing left to do. Stepping over the bandit’s hands and other numerous parts hurriedly, he stooped over Flaxa’s, and loosened the straps on his chain & iron chest plate.

“Look’s better on me than you, you bastard,” He muttered, feverishly undoing the catches, then finally pulling it off Flaxas’s thin leather tunic. He would have put it on right there and then, but more of the bandit’s were awaking. He sure didn’t want to be around when that happened, so he stuffed it inside his now full rucksack.

“DANIEL!” Alar yelled. “Hurry up!”

After taking a final glance at the beautiful waterfall, Daniel jumped over the pile, sprinting up the slope, and rushed into the bush, following the trail of broken branches and shrubbery left by Alar.

He didn’t want to hear it, but it was bound to happen. His blood turned to ice as a furious shout echoed along the trees. “FIND THEM!” Flaxa’s roared. “KILL THEM! BRING BACK MY BELONGINGS!”

Daniel upped his pace, sprinting through the tree’s like he’d never ran before. The terrain was slippery yet rough, fallen leaves crushed into the ground by hundreds of feet before him, with roots sticking out everywhere from the tall trees. It was a forest filled with natural traps. The roots and branches lashed out from everywhere, trying their best to ensnare and trip you up. Plus there were the trees themselves. The way they grew in the part of this forest was unimaginable and random, sometimes pushed together, sometimes leaning in the worst places.

Daniel had finally spotted Alar ahead. His breath was ragged and dry from running, and he desperately needed to stop. He could have ran plenty longer, if he hadn’t been blinded by a shock wave, so running nonstop for 5 minutes still nauseous was saying something. When he spotted Alar, jumping over rotten logs with the agility of an Ocelot, he felt relieved, and kept running, determined to make it. He was going to get out of this damned forest. He had to. It didn’t go on forever -

A flash of darkened leather through the trees.

Daniel’s heart began to go in overdrive, his breath increased tenfold. They had caught up.

He was just about to shout out to Alar, but he never managed it. Battle instincts kicked in as a yelling bandit jumped out of the trees on the right, two dented dagger’s held in his hands, landing right in front of him. But before the bandit could even raise a knife, Daniel drove forward, front kicking him in the chest with all of his weight. He felt the bandit’s chest collapse beneath his boot, his eyes widening in surprise. The full blow launched the man flying, crashing into a tree, then slumped to the forest floor, unconscious.

Not even bothering to check the man for a pulse, he moved ahead, cursing for losing track of Alar. The speed he was running, he couldn’t check properly from the trees speeding past his sight. It seemed like he was looking at smudged images, each one slightly different than the next, working together to make a moving image.

At last, he saw Alar again, still sprinting. At that moment, He had turned his head back, and gave the thumbs up when he saw Daniel following behind him. Daniel gave them back, before focusing on running, and the bandit struck.

He had been hidden in the dense hill Alar had been running by, and had finally attacked, leaping out of his hiding place. Alar didn’t see him. But Daniel could.

“LOOK OUT!” He bellowed, pointing to the hill. Alar reacted incredibly fast, as he looked up to his assailant with ferocity. He pulled out his wand from the deep pocket of his robe, then pointed at the free falling bandit, still running.

The man froze, literally, in the air. A look of surprise, bulging eyes of fear, was stuck on his face, stupidly reminding Daniel of an outstretched frog. With a lazy flick of his wand, Alar sent the Bandit flying over the trees, landing with a *crunch* far away on the forest floor.

“Thanks, I owe you one!” Alar shouted.

“Don’t mention it!”

Just as Alar was about to say something else, several more bandit’s appeared around them, emerging from the bushes. Daniel scanned for the amount of enemies, and realised there was too many to fight, not now. “We’re out-numbered!” He cried to Alar. “Keep running!” was the reply he received. Almost on queue, an arrow whizzed past Daniel’s head, digging into the side of the hill. He looked over his shoulder with panic, searching for the shooter.

Not one shooter, three! They were all in a line, nocking arrow’s and firing them at their designated targets - Him.

Fortunately, they weren’t very good shots. Clearly, just from looking back, using bow’s wasn’t the first weapon they would choose. Their grip and posture was wrong, plus they didn’t have arm guards. Daniel wouldn’t use a bow as his primary weapon, but at least he knew how to use one properly.

Still, a man with a bow far out range's two young men with only short range equipment. Daniel had to weave this way and that through the trees, jumping over fallen logs, making sure he didn’t slip and fall. If he did, the bandit’s would be on him in an instant, and that would mean game over.

“Duck!” Alar yelled to Daniel. Not even caring what was happening around him, he instinctively crouched, and winced as a blast of hot air flashed above him, making contact with the ground in front of the archers. The blast of energy shattered the ground, sending chunks of dirt everywhere. Archers, and several more bandit’s were launched in the air like ragdolls, tumbling backwards and landing on each other. Daniel gave a breathless chuckle, and pressed on, exiting the wider gapped area of the forest and entering more concealed bushes. He was starting to get extremely tired. His feet and calves were killing him, and the back of his throat was as dry as a desert. Bound’s turned to steps, and after checking for hostiles, he stopped in a clearing to have a rest. When he arrived though, he wasn’t alone. A figure was standing in the middle, clearly searching for something, checking around him, looking off into the distance. He recognized the figure easily by his red and yellow cloak. Alar had made it.

Daniel staggered out of the prickly bushes, leaning his elbow on a tree. Alar whipped around, pulling out his wand, but stopped when he saw who it was. He placed the wand back in his pocket, relieved. “I thought you were left behind in the trees.”

“You can’t get rid of me that easily,” Daniel panted, before pushing off from the tree and standing straight. “Have we lost the bandit’s?”

“I think so,” replied Alar. “I can’t be too sure. I’ll go check the forest ahead, see where we’re going -”

Alar’s sentence was abruptly interrupted as a long object spun in the air towards him, making contact on his right shoulder. The knife hilt stuck out, the entire blade had dug into his shoulder. Blood spurted from the wound as he yelled in pain, staggering backwards. Daniel shouted in alarm and took a step forward. That was when the attacker appeared.

A dark figure sprinted out of the bush and tackled Alar to the ground, crashing to the forest floor, skidding to a halt at the bottom of an oak. Daniel saw a thin object fall from Alar’s pocket, landing beside the tree. Alar attempted to get up, but the figure pressed his boot on Alar’s chest, immobilizing the mage. Under all the weight, he still struggled to get off the ground, but the mysterious man wasn’t giving up, pushing further on his chest. Anger rose in Daniel’s head, bubbling under pressure. He didn’t know who this man was, yet, but he wasn’t going to get away with this. He shouted with rage, and ran at the figure, brandishing his spear.

*WHAM* the man had seen him coming, and threw another knife, this time at Daniel’s direction. Instead of the blade making contact however, the hilt came first and struck him on the forehead, hitting between the eyes. He felt his neck snap back from the recoil, and he fell backwards, landing on more prickly bushes. Large white spots swam in front of his vision, waving around like they were taunting him. He could barely move. “Ohhhh,” he groaned, rubbing his forehead. There was a small welt on his forehead, growing from where the hilt made contact.

The hilt, the hilt… only the hilt had hit him! So where was the knife? it must of bounced away. Daniel slowly rolled over, checking the bottom of the bushes for it. His face lighted up as he found what he was looking for...

Satisfied Daniel would be no trouble, the man turned back to Alar, and revealed his face, putting his foot back on the mage’s chest.

Flaxas grinned devilishly, his eyes strangely unfocused, pupils grey. His jaw looked unhinged, like a door hanging off it’s pane, blood trickling down his chin. He leant over until he was practically nose-to-nose with Alar.

“You attack my men and I,” he muttered quietly, his voice on edge and slurred from his broken jaw. Alar could see traces of a madman hidden behind his now blind eyes. “You make a fool of me. You steal what is rightfully mine, and even worse, you thought you could've gotten away with it.”

Alar tried to speak, to say what Flaxas was accusing him of was injustice, but the pain in his shoulder was growing. It wasn’t helping that he had a foot pressed against it as well.

Flaxas continued watching him closely, before finally leaning back and unsheathing another two knives from his belt, pressing them forcefully against Alar’s unshielded neck.

“I’m going to enjoy this,” Flaxas whispered excitedly. The blade’s were dreadfully close to cutting his skin. Another few seconds, and it would be slicing through sinew…

Flaxas raised the dual knives over his head, as he readied for the final blow, Alar closed his eyes -

 

Spoiler: Chapter 5 - part two

“AAARRGH!” Alar’s eyes snapped open, expecting a knife in his chest, and that the yell came from his own mouth. But it didn’t. It came from Flaxas.

He was kneeling, clawing at his throat with the desperation of a dying animal. Alar realised with horror that a knife blade was lodged in his windpipe, blood trickling down his chest and dripping to the floor like a red waterfall. His eye’s were rolling back into his head, as he slowly choked on his own blood, red-tinted foam escaping his mouth. He was looking with fear at something no one else but him could see - death.

After an eternity of suffering, Flaxas eyes rolled back completely, leaving white, and fell over, now nothing but a husk of a man.

“That’s as close to mercy you’ll ever get from me, bandit,” snarled a voice. Alar looked to the right, recognizing the voice.

Daniel had thrown the dagger. He stood by the oak, his bruised face contorted with anger, his checkered scarf even more ripped. With the hobble of an old man, he walked over to Alar and held out his hand, lifting him up. “How’s your arm?” he asked.

“It - hurts. A lot,” Alar replied with gritted teeth. “I’ll be fine, here -”

Summoning his wand from the ground beside his near grave, he conjured a clean rag, and wrapped it around his shoulder, tightening and knotting it. “That should hold the blood for a while. At least until it seeps through.”

Alar glanced over at Flaxas body. “I can’t believe you killed him.”

“He deserved it,” Daniel spat. “Taking our stuff, holding us up at broad daylight. And he tried to killed you!”

“I know that’s bad. But if you kill every bandit you meet, you’ll be no more better than the bandits themselves!”

If I hadn’t killed him, we would both be dead by now!” Daniel pointed his accusing finger at Alar. He himself gave a look at the body. “I had to.”

“I guess you’re right,” Alar replied slowly. “Just, promise me you won’t do this again.”

“How would you know I won’t do it again? I thought you were just delivering me to Detlas and was going to leave.”

Alar didn’t answer for a bit, but he eventually spoke.

“I thought I might keep an eye on you… make sure you didn’t get poisoned again.” He gave a little chuckle, which resulted in a large coughing fit. Daniel stepped forward, wanting to help Alar, but he waved him away. “I’m fine,” he said between coughs.

“How far are we from the river?” Daniel asked, a hint of concern still remaining in his voice.

“Not that far. About a few miles.” Alar gave a final hack, then abruptly turned and walked out of the clearing, heading into the bushes. Daniel watched him leave, waiting until he was unseen. Checking to see if anyone else was spying on him, he hurriedly walked over to Flaxas’s body, and took hold of the hilt, gripping it tightly. Fluidly, but with some struggle, he pulled it out of the dead bandit’s throat and wiped it clean with his own tunic, then sheathing it in a leather scabbard ripped from Flaxas’s belt. Always good to have a back-up, he thought, before walking after Alar, swallowed into trees the darkness craves once more.

* * * * *​

The sun had been sinking further and further into the horizon, and Daniel couldn’t help but think they were getting nowhere, at no pace.

Daniel had caught up with Alar quickly, and had spent the last hour passing through thick vegetation, even taller trees, and ducking from the unexpected swooping bird. The forest hadn’t changed much since they had started walking again, the only exception was the space between trees was wider, large amounts of sunlight falling through. The grass felt more lush underneath his boots, sinking further into the ground as a pleasant marsh. The heavy smell of sap and composing leaves Daniel had first smelt when he arrived at the forest had returned, a good sign. Maybe it meant he was close to escaping this accursed forest.

Birds chirped, animals scattered. There was no other noise. The forest had turned silent, tired from an eternity of standing proud. And it wasn’t the only thing that wasn’t speaking.

Alar hadn’t spoken the entire time. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts, dragged down by a following adventurer he had to find on the worst of days. Now that Daniel thought about it, he didn’t know what Alar was going to do or go before he rescued him. Either than that, he couldn’t speak because he was so much in pain. The same went for Daniel as well.

He hadn’t really felt much of the effects the spider venom was supposed to do when in the human body, mostly just lightheadedness and small nausea. The thing that worried him was that by then, the venom should have gone into a higher stage, resulting in increasing pain stabs, heavy nausea & unconsciousness. Problem was, he hadn’t felt any of those symptoms, and he knew they would come, eventually. The question was, how long until they did?

“How close are we from the river now?” He repeated, dragging his feet along the dirt.

“We’re still a bit away, unfortunately. I could be wrong, either way.” Alar didn’t seem to be in a talking mood, something Daniel knew was partly his fault. He was still mad at him for killing Flaxas, which Daniel believed he did the right thing. Though, he still pondered what might of happened if he hadn’t thrown that fateful knife. The same knife he held in his pocket, tucked away from unwanted eyes. Then it dawned on him what was the right thing to do.

“Alar,” he started slowly. “I just want to say that I’m sorry that I killed Flaxas.”

Alar sharply turned his head back, watching Daniel with interest. “You are?” he asked. “I thought you said it was the right thing to do.”

“I did, I know. But I also know that, what happened back there could have gone dozens of ways. I just did what my instinct told me at the time,” he confessed. “I could of restrained myself, but then you would have died. If that happened, how would I possibly hope to make it out of this forest, let alone make it to Detlas?”

Alar continued watching him with a scrutining eye. He then laughed. “You’re right there,” he replied. “You wouldn’t last a day without me.”

Daniel had expected a thanks from this conversation, but now it had gone off-course, falling and crashing off the railings.

“That’s not true!” Daniel objected. “I was doing okay before you rescued me!”

“Yeah, as spider chow!” Alar chortled, as they continued to walk up the winding slope. “Face it, you’d be long gone if I hadn’t been there to save your -”

He immediately stopped talking, his body frozen in surprise and shock. Daniel noticed the unusual behaviour and, cautious for unseen dangers, walked up behind him, and gasped.

The trees he had grown so used to had dwindled in numbers, creating wider and wider gaps until there was an open plain, oaks and spruce trees dotting the landscape. Sunlight was in its natural element, warming the open ground and starting up Daniel’s bedraggled brain. It was everything Daniel had expected it to be, but so much more.

And in the center of it all was the river, a huge, gaping bed of deep, angry rushing water, heading downstream towards the only charted ocean the province has - or know’s about. They had found the plains.

“We - we made it,” Daniel muttered. Slowly, shock and caution melted away and turned into something wonderful. Something he hadn’t felt for a while - hope. His mouth broke into a wide grin. “We made it!” He cheered, clapping the still stunned Alar on the back, his jaw still open.

“I - I thought we were still far from the river,” he murmured, but loud enough for Daniel to hear it.

“Who cares?” Daniel whooped. “We made it! That’s all that matters!”

He was jumping with excitement. All that the forest had thrown at him, all the power it could manage, didn’t stop him from reaching where he wanted to be the most. “I’m gonna live!” He yelled at the top of his voice. All the excitement was getting to his head. Maybe he should sit down for a bit…

Or maybe he could keep celebrating while on the way to Detlas! He had never felt this hopeful for the future. What could the world throw at him now?

“I’M GONNA LI -” Daniel clamped his mouth shut immediately. He tasted vomit, burning through his taste buds, rising in his throat like lava. He felt like some unknown being had forcefully grabbed his stomach, and pulled, ripping out his intestine’s with it. Sweat was pouring from his head like a storm drain. All he could see was spot’s, dancing and laughing around him like mischievous imps.

Something was wrong. Something was definitely wrong. His legs collapsed beneath his weight, and he fell on all fours, grazing his knees and hands on the sharp gravel path. Unexpectedly, he felt another horrid heave from his stomach, and he couldn’t control it. Vomit fell like a wave onto the ground, splattering everything in front of him, covering his hands in stinking bile. Another sharp stab in his head, and he lost control of his neck, falling headfirst into his own vomit. He heard feet pounding towards him, skidding to a halt and attempting to pull him up from the sick-covered gravel. Alar ultimately failed, and set him back down again. His voice was far away once more, and becoming further and further away as he spoke.

“Daniel, daniel can you hear me? Oh, gods of Wynn…”

He could of sworn he heard him retch, Probably from the smell. hands were picking him up, again and again, but still failing. How many times was he going to try? He knew it was his fate. He was going to slowly die here, covered in his own pool of sick. He had come so close. Detlas was only just beyond the hills… So fitting…

“Daniel, come on man, listen to me!”

So - fitting…

“Nononono, don’t you die on me…” the voice grew further and further from him, like a train leaving him behind in a tunnel. It was leaving him to fall, fall, fall all the way down an endless black abyss, falling into the jaws of cold, miserable unconscious nothing.

 

WHERE ARE THE INDENTS OH GOD NO

 

Oh dear God, how long did this take you?

 

Whoops, sorry - forgot to add that, I just copied and pasted it straight from Google docs :/

________________________________

So far I'm at 67 pages, and it's only taken me the majority of at least 5 months (with added breaks) :D

 

5...months...?

 

Ya, 5 months - I took a break around the middle of the year, though. And it's not even finished yet!

 

That is some serious dedication to writing! I hope you continue! I enjoy writing as well, but I am kind of discouraged to write a ton because I can't share it at school, and no one understands anything I would be writing about. XD

 

Nice! although did my character appear yet?