I see no sign of Fvenn yet.
I pick up a stick from the ground and start etching the Wind Sphere rune into the ground. Over and over again.
"Hey, whatcha doing?" a familiar voice asks behind me. "What are all these drawings?"
I hadn't noticed how much time must have passed. Dozens of etchings lined the ground – I hadn't wanted to erase even one; I need to visualize and burn the image into the back of my head.
"I'm just practicing my runes," I say, standing up to face Fvenn.
"Runes? Oh! Like the ones that court mages use? You're a mage!? That's awesome!"
"Yeah, or at least I'm trying to be," I laugh. My face burns red with embarrassment at the praise. How can I let a kid get to my ego? Then again, I'm a kid now.
"So what spells can you do? Can you shoot fireballs? Turn water into mead? Call forth lightning and thunder?"
I bite my lip. Shame starts to well up inside me again. But maybe I can get it one more shot.
"I-I'll try one that my mom taught me this morning," I say.
I repeat the steps in order.
Release the Eth within my body, using my heart as the engine to gather it in my hands.
"Woh . . . your eyes, they're glowing."
I block out Fvenn's talkative chatter.
I speak the first two verses, summoning an orb of wind within my palms. It seems stable for now. A cool breeze blows on my face.
[Wind Sphere!]
But nothing happens.
Or rather I suddenly collapse as the sphere disperses in my hands as a small puff. Vertigo hits me as I fall on my behind, my breathing heavy.
"Nothing happened. Hey, you okay? Raelle?" Fvenn asks.
My connection to the surrounding ether feels weak, my eth even fainter. Have I expanded all of my EP already?
"Do we need to go to a doctor? Are you sick?"
"I'm . . . fine," I huff out. Calm yourself. Take in deep breaths.
Feeling gradually returns to my limbs and after a minute or two I can stand up on my own.
"What was that? Were you trying to cast a wind spell? I felt something but then you just . . . "
"I think all the practice from this morning has drained all of my Eth," I say, finally catching my breath. My mind is still a little foggy but I'm in control of my faculties again.
"Eth?"
"It's what I use for magic. It's like energy."
"Don't you just need a wand or staff though?"
I shake my head, walking over to a nearby tree to rest against. It seems that how magic is performed is in the knowledge of the citizenry.
"Scrolls you can cast that way, but a wand and staff still need Eth to start a spell."
"I think I get it," Fvenn says, a light bulb reflected in his eyes. "Or maybe I don't. But it's still cool that you get to learn magic."
I smile at his kindness. I half expected him to mock me for an incomplete spell. Call me a liar. A fake.
"I'd never be able to do that," Fvenn says. "That's why I plan to become a master swordsman."
"You're not going to become a blacksmith like your dad?"
"Nah. Not since I saw what the guilds did to us, to my dad's business. When I turn 13 I'll try out for the Squire exam," Fvenn says, raising his wooden sword triumphantly. "If I don't pass, I'll at least enroll as a militia footman while I keep trying."
He definitely deserves a character arc, I say internally with a visible smile and laugh.
"Hey, I didn't make fun of you. I'm going to follow my dreams and become a Master Swordsman!"
Yep, those are main character vibes. I shake my head.
"I'm not poking fun at you. I hope you reach your dream. I have my own dream to become a High Mage."
"Heh, we can even form a party in the future. Sir Fvenn the Master Swordsman and his sidekick, Lady Raelle the High Court Mage."
"Don't get ahead of yourself, Don Quixote."
"Donkey Whotay?"
"Nevermind," I say with a chuckle. "What did you want to do today then?"
"I figured we could explore deeper into the woods. Legend has it that a Beast of Ruin calls these woods its home," Fvenn says, setting up the adventure. Maybe even I can get into this.
"You lead ahead, sir knight," I say.
"Huzzah!" Fvenn lets out, and off we go.
. . .
I can't help but find Fvenn's adventurous nature infectious. It reminds me of the times I went off with friends to duo content without having a dedicated healer. I even find myself starting to play along, sending imaginary spells – high level spells that I still remember from my past life but didn't have the runic knowledge, nor aptitude, to bring them to fruition. But it's exhilarating and fun nonetheless.
However, as we continue to delve deeper into the woods, away from the outskirts that our two homes resided on, the darker the canopies become.
The quieter the bugs chirp and cricket.
The silenter the birds sing.
The deadness of it all.
The air holds no vibration. It lacks vitality and vigor. I wonder if it's from having exhausted my Eth from earlier, but I still had a small connection earlier at the wood's edge. Like a word being on the tip of your tongue but still present in your mind. Here there is nothing. It scares me.
Fvenn continues to fence with his sword, pirouetting as he slashed and stabbed as an enemy phantom only he can see. I call out to him.
"Fvenn. I think we should head back."
My words come out hoarsely, almost in a whisper.
"Huh? What did you say?"
"I said, I think we should head back toward the meadow," I manage to say a bit louder.
"Oh? Are you scared of the Beast of Ruin?" Fvenn says with a snicker. "I was just kidding about that. There's nothing like that out here in the country. Maybe in the mountains or the western lands, but not here."
"Listen carefully," I say again, still whispering, my body shaking. Why am I filled with such instinctual dread?
Fvenn stops for a moment, craning his neck and ears to listen.
"It's, uh, gotten pretty quiet here," Fvenn confirms, a little nervously himself. "I haven't been this far in here myself."
"So can we go? Now?" I persist. I imagine I look even more like a scared little girl than my once male mind feels.
"Uh, yeah," Fvenn says, turning around towards where we came.
As we head back, the sound of a distant animal cry echoes between the weaving maze of trees. We both stop, looking around for where it came from. The sound of animal life should comfort me, but this cry is different. I nearly jump as Fvenn grabs my hand and begins to pull me quickly behind him as we pick up our pace to leave the woods.
Another cry, but much closer.
A grunt and a growl.
The smell of sulfur. Of death.
Cutting us off ahead in the woods stands a large creature in the shape of a wildboar. It has to be ten feet in height with nearly the same in width and length. Several pairs of gnarled tusks jut out from its chin and rounded nose. It takes in heavy breaths from the air, a miasmic stench flowing from its jaw. Its eyes hold a faint prismatic glow. Stygian, black blood drips from its side, several large bolts sticking out of its rib cage. Perhaps from the last fool who had faced it. I tell instantly that it's a kind of magical beast, perhaps a daekind – member of the daemon race. Its eyes scan the wooden overgrowth before finally meeting my own. Recognition. Prey.
I stand frozen beside Fvenn who pulls me behind him, his wooden sword raised in defense. What the hell are you doing, man? This is a total death flag; announce your dream in one scene, die in the next. Shit. Fuck.
"W-we have t-to r-run," I quiver out in between my teeth.
"Y-you go. I'll keep it distracted," Fvenn says, pushing me away so he can two-hand his weapon.
Stop it! We both have to run. Don't be a damn hero who can't make it through the first season!
The abomination grunts hungrily, digging its huge claws into the ground before kicking off, stampeding right toward us.
"What are you doing!? Run!" Fvenn shouts at me.
"You're going to get yourself killed! Stop being a hero!"
Fvenn opens his mouth to get out a word but he is tossed into the air from the beast's first charge, barely deflecting it enough with his toy sword to avoid being eviscerated by its many tusks. He hits the ground and rolls several steps, motionless. Is he . . .
The beast turns toward me. The thought disappears from my mind. Thought is replaced by sheer terror.
My legs move on their own and I run for my life. Tears of terror pour from my eyes as I duck and weave behind trees, unable to think about my dead friend. My first friend.
I jump to the side in almost precognitive reflex as the beast roars past me, nearly skewering me onto its snout. I can't outrun this thing. I'm going to die.
I push myself to my feet. A stand-off between a little girl and a mythical behemoth. I stand no chance. Give up and hope death is quick.
I take in a deep breath and open my senses once more.
No.
Not like this.
Not before even having had a chance of living a life.
I accelerate the release of my Eth, what dwindling reserves I still have left.
Come on. Combine it with the Ether. Just like that.
[Vital wind of heaven divide]
The beast charges. It draws nearer.
Nearer.
I have no chance to recite a second verse. Instead I jump it.
[Wind Sphere!]
It's an incomplete spell but I still cast it.
My outstretched palms and the beast's tusks meet at nearly the same time. A distinct field between them – my energy and the beast's tainted Eth – repulse one another. However, the beast's aura wins, cracking through the wall of wind I had projected. The force is enough to send me hurtling through the air, my body crashing up against a tree. All the air in my lungs is expelled from my mouth. My bones crunch. Muscles snap. I fall limp.
I lay on the ground, sprawled out in front of the demon boar, its snout sniffing the air voraciously as it approached.
Dead. I'm dead.
I'm absolutely dead.
But I have to try. I cough, sputtering violet blood onto the ground. I crane my head up as much as I can, my eyes meeting the beast's once more.
I have no Eth left. Not even enough to tickle my nose. Still, I reach out with one of my hands, outstretched toward the Ether I can see with my special eyes. Ether that the beast perhaps, despite its phantasmal nature, couldn't see.
It's so warm. As warm as the blood leaking from my broken body. Perhaps even warmer. An etheric mist surrounds both of us, a mist of dazzling firefly light that floated as dancing dust all around. It's so tangible I can almost touch it. Perhaps breathe it.
The beast opens its jaws over my body. It can consume me in a single bite. However, its jowls stop right over me, its spittle dripping on my face, its body frozen in motion.
I take in a deep breath. I feel strength returning to me with each breath.
Muscles restoring.
Bones mending.
It's as if the ether in the air has become an oxygen replacement for my lungs. I reach out and touch the boar's tusks with my small hand, gripping onto one. The beast howls in pain, trying to move but unable. Its legs buckle beneath it and it collapses in a kneeling pile. As the pain from my broken body subsides, so does my consciousness. My mind swims. I see sparkling light, much like the aetheric network connected to the ley line beneath our oak tree. It's absolutely beautiful. I'm glad to see it again before I die. The familiar loss of sight, touch, and hearing that I recall from the hospice. And then nothing.
Or rather not nothing.
Weightlessness takes me, my body being carried in gingerly embrace.
"Not enough for the kill."
An unfamiliar voice speaks. The owner of it is the one who carries me.
"Boy's knocked out cold too"
And then I once again drift off, taken over by delirium. Then sleep.