Vas'Anellir, 1088 of the 7th Era.
The Hybrid of Demon and Human, Jorael the Traveler, now turned 16.
"Kid, you've shot up impressively over the past 11 years.
You stand nearly 1.8 mels high and have grown into quite the captivating young man, but here's a concern...
How will you handle the growth of your horns, wings, and tail?" queried Tor'Elkast, filled with apprehension.
"Old Man, I can cover my horns with my hair and conceal my wings and tail under my Warg fur cloak..." explained Jorael as he skillfully hid his glossy black horns beneath his thick, dark brown hair.
"I am Tor'Elkast...
That is a smart plan.
If you are committed to your quest, remember not to reveal your Demon identity. Particularly in the location you are heading to.
Also, don't succumb to fear or indulge in the sin of vanity and arrogance, as it will dull your senses and cause them to waver.
And finally, if you encounter a Behemoth, don't consider fighting it. Just run. " advised the Sage.
"Understood..." responded the Traveler.
"erm...
And... if it's not too much trouble, please...
Your... promise..." mumbled the Elf hesitantly.
"What prom... oh, that promise... Yes, I will..." replied the young man, a bit annoyed.
"Goodbye, young Traveler." Tor'Elkast said at last, bidding farewell to his apprentice.
"Goodbye, learned Elf." Jorael responded, bidding his master farewell before exiting the ancient library that had been his home for the past ten years.
…
A year ago, Jorael found the courage to return to his childhood home to pay tribute to his mother, Joanna, and his father, Roland.
He discovered the house reduced to ashes, and the skeletal remains of his parents.
Through the torment and tears, he decided to lay them to rest there, beside the charred remains of the house where he had entered this world.
Jorael also found the remains of the slavers, but curiously, there were only five skeletons. He left the slavers' remains undisturbed.
He also found his Father's sword lying next to his skeleton, corroded and damaged. He picked it up to preserve the blade.
A year later, as Jorael was leaving Vas'Anellir, he paused for a moment after leaving the ancient library.
He stared in the direction of his parents' house and while holding his Father's weapon said:
"I hope I can find a blacksmith who can refurbish this sword…"
Then, Jorael set off towards the east.
The journey was extensive, and it would take him several weeks just to escape the Dark Forest.
The landscape was frustratingly monotonous, with trees and shrubs constantly obstructing the sky's pleasing view, a sight he fondly remembered while flying with his Mother. As he strolled, he muttered:
"With the Fulcrum of Sight opened, my vision extends twice as far and I can see better in darkness. Over there! I spot a pack of Wargs approaching!"
Growls echoed his sighting. Ferocious dark creatures were charging at him, hoping to dine on the Traveler. Jorael unsheathed his Father's sword and said: "Let's see if it's as sharp as I recall…"
As a Warg lunged to sink its teeth into him, Jorael dodged to the side, just as his father Roland had taught him, and aimed a blow at the beast's neck.
"Hmm… I suppose it's lost its edge…" Jorael said disappointedly as the creature yelped in pain but then landed safely. The wound was bleeding, but it was not lethal.
The other Magic Beasts did not hesitate to coordinate their attack, their fangs ready to bite.
The Traveler's eyes hardened as he dropped the sword and exclaimed:
"As a child, I was terrified of you monsters. I fled from you with my Father, scared of being killed and devoured.
But not anymore… I am Jorael of Vas'Anellir, a Sage! Elektronvolt! Discharge!"
As the Sage roared, he pointed his palm at the rushing beasts. A violet glowing heptagram materialized, releasing a horrifying amount of electricity in jagged arcs, instantly electrifying the Wargs to their death.
An intermediate Magic spell was activated, one that allowed the caster to strike multiple enemies with lethal lightning.
Only the beast wounded by the sword remained, it howled in anger at the loss of its pack. It prepared for another attack, but its end was imminent.
"Firebolt!" shouted Jorael as he turned back to face the beast.
He extended his palm towards the creature and unleashed a fireball two mels in size. Upon reaching its target, it incinerated the Warg, leaving a smoldering carcass.
"I might have overdone it a bit… heh heh…" Jorael said at the end of the combat, before resuming his journey.
After several days of travel, the Traveler detected a foul smell and remarked:
"Thanks to the Fulcrum of Smell, I can detect a rancid odor coming from that direction. I better avoid it or I might run into Ghouls who feast on decomposed carcasses."
He referred to the necrophagic Magic Beasts called Ghouls, terrifying humanoid monsters who rarely appear, but if there is a decaying corpse, they will detect it and emerge from their lair to feast on the rotting carcass.
To ensure a safe night, Jorael devised a way to sleep. He cast Vanish on himself to become invisible and climbed onto a sturdy large tree branch. The Warg fur coat would protect him from the Dark Forest's nocturnal chill.
The next morning, for breakfast, he found some berries on a bush, but before consuming them he considered:
"Poison is no longer a concern, with the Fulcrum of Taste always active, I can instantly detect any toxic substances that could harm me."
He tasted a berry, but immediately spat it out saying: "Yep… this is poisonous."
That day, Jorael learned that purple berries with yellow polka dots are harmful.
The next day, while walking through the trees, Jorael detected something above him.
"I can hear Mole-Rats digging above the ground, my hearing has improved with the Fulcrum of Hearing."
He was referring to the Magic Beasts known as Mole-Rats, furless and gruesome mole-like monsters with sharp claws that live in underground tunnels. They range in size from half a mel to a full mel and live in packs. They are typically harmless, but in large numbers, they can become dangerous.
During his journey, Jorael periodically climbed trees to the top to assess his position, as traveling without a compass could be difficult. As he climbed a tree, he thought:
"Ugh… If I had my smartphone with GPS, this would be easier…
But then again, GPS wouldn't work here… nor would the internet I suppose.
Since acquiring the Fulcrum of Tact, I've developed stronger physical prowess, making climbing this tree effortless," Jorael mused.
His ascent's purpose was to confirm the consistent alignment of the distant fog bank on his left, signaling the perilous core of the Dark Forest. By this direction, he was moving east, and when the day arrived where the fog bank no longer bounded his view, it would be the indicator to move straight, leaving the mist in his wake.
When that day arrived, Jorael spent the following ones ensuring the fog remained behind him. However, during one such walk, he felt a dangerous presence lurking:
"I sense something in my wake… a Cockatrice! Thanks to the Fulcrum of Soul, my perception is heightened!"
The monstrous beast planned a surprise attack, presuming Jorael a mere Traveler, but it was mistaken. The prey it stalked was a Sage.
Swiftly, Jorael spun around and hollered, "Slow!"
In response to his command, a luminous green heptagram materialized before his hand. It was a Green Magic beginner's spell that decelerated the target—a spell with a high failure rate that primarily depended on the volume of Magic used. Yet, as a Sage, Jorael could channel a vast amount of Magic, boosting the likelihood of the spell's success.
"You thought you could ambush me, didn't you!" roared the Sage, as the Cockatrice's movements slowed, taken aback by the abrupt magical onslaught.
"Meet your end, monstrous creature… Blizzard!" Jorael shouted, forming a glowing purple heptagram in front of his palm.
Executing the intermediate spell, five icy projectiles materialized in mid-air and were hurled at the beast, impaling and slaying it.
"I'd better harvest some useful materials from this Cockatrice, as I did with the Wargs…" Jorael remarked, extracting the creature's talons.
As he held the claws, he pondered, "These might be of use, just like the fur and fangs from the Wargs…"
After a journey of several weeks through the shadowy Dark Forest, Jorael, from a high vantage point, could no longer see the fog bank that had been his constant guide. Instead, his eyes met a distant, treeless expanse of green.
"At last, I've reached the edge of this Dark Forest, my dwelling for the past 16 years…"
For the subsequent days, an aura of anticipation surrounded the Traveler, knowing he was nearing the end of the first leg of his journey.
At last, an opening in the forest materialized, with rays of light beaming towards him from beyond. Leaving the forest, he was immediately bathed in warm sunlight. Before him lay the vast, sun-kissed green plain, the physical barrier known as The Wall, protecting the Human Empire.
Jorael broke into a genuine smile. His life, up to that moment, had only known trees, shadows, and cold, with sparse rays of sunlight piercing through the forest canopy.
"As for the final Fulcrum... such immense power it bestows… yet so arduous to acquire…"
Jorael thought, entranced by the vibrant landscape, before deciding,
"Why not reach out to him? ..."
"Huh… Who is it?!" Tor'Elkast bellowed, suddenly awakened.
"Who else would reach out to you, Old Man?" Jorael retorted, slightly annoyed.
"My name is Tor'Elkast…
Listen, you impudent child… Just because you've unlocked the Sage Fulcrum and gained ultimate power, doesn't mean you can use it frivolously.
I was finally catching a break, after spending the last decade babysitting…" the Elf retorted, evidently irritated.
"What?!...
You were always asleep!
All you did was dump a monstrous pile of books for me to pore over while you enjoyed your solitude…
However, I reached out to inform you that I've finally arrived at the edge of the Dark Forest…" Jorael announced excitedly.
"I certainly wasn't sleeping the entire time…
Well, congratulations, you persistent child, on making it this far.
I half expected you to be dead by now…" Tor'Elkast joked, teasing his student.
"Typical of you to say something like that…
I'll reach out again when I've settled in the Human Empire.
Goodbye for now, Old Man…" Jorael ended the conversation.
"My name is…" Tor'Elkast was responding when Jorael abruptly terminated the connection.
"I did it!
I managed to communicate with the Old Man via telepathy!
Although it requires immense concentration and knowledge of the recipient's precise location…
With the Old Man,
locating him will never be an issue!" Jorael exclaimed, pleased with his new abilities.
Looking up at the clear blue sky, he was able to see the blue moon clearly, for the first time in many years. The same moon he had once seen with his Mother Joanna while soaring through the skies.
"Human Empire… I'm coming for you!"
From that point forward, Jorael would have to tread cautiously as he neared the Human domain.