The creature lunged, teeth bared in a snarl. I scrambled to my feet, my body moving on instinct. Years of training, the ingrained fight-or-flight reflexes, took over before I could fully comprehend the threat.
The beast was fast, but I was faster. I sidestepped its initial charge, feeling its fetid breath hot on my skin. This was no mountain hare or oversized rabbit; this was a predator, built for the kill. Something primal awakened within me - a hunter's instinct sharpened by a lifetime of martial arts.
"Ravi, behind you!" Lyra's scream jerked me back to the present. Whipping around, I saw another of the strange hounds emerge from the undergrowth, its eyes gleaming with malevolent intent. I was surrounded.
I clenched my fists, the smooth stone in my pocket digging into my palm. Panic threatened to overwhelm me, yet within that fear bloomed an icy resolve. This was a true test – not against a warrior like Korvak, but against the wilds of Elyria itself.
The first hound circled, looking for an opening. A memory surfaced: my master's weathered face, the endless sparring sessions where speed and adaptability were my key advantages against larger opponents. These weren't men, but the principle held true.
As the hound lunged again, I didn't dodge. Instead, I twisted, letting its momentum carry it past. My fist, honed by a thousand repetitions, slammed into its exposed flank with bone-jarring force. The creature yelped, a sound more of surprise than pain.
The second beast closed in. Its fangs snapped, inches from my arm. I dropped to the ground, rolling, and came up with a handful of dirt and pebbles that I flung into its eyes. Blinded, it thrashed wildly, buying me precious seconds.
I closed with the injured hound, my focus narrowing to the fight. It was larger, stronger, armed with claws and teeth meant to tear flesh. But I had something it didn't: discipline. A warrior's mind.
Each lunge, each snap of its jaws was an opening I exploited. A kick shattered its foreleg, sending it tumbling in an agonized yowl. In moments, it was reduced to a pathetic, whimpering form.
The second hound, vision restored, lunged with renewed ferocity. It caught me off-guard, teeth sinking into my shoulder. I cried out, pain and fury igniting within me. That same surge of power, the magic Torin had warned me about, flared to life.
I wrenched free, my injured arm glowing with an ethereal blue light. The world seemed to slow, the creature's next attack predictable and clumsy. As it lunged again, I moved with unnatural swiftness. My glowing fist struck it beneath the jaw with blinding speed, a force that felt like it came from somewhere beyond myself.
The hound was hurled backwards, landing with a sickening thud, its neck bent at an impossible angle. Silence descended, broken only by my ragged breathing and the thudding of my own heart.
Lyra rushed to my side, her eyes wide with a mix of horror and awe. "Ravi, your arm!" she gasped.
The glow was fading, my shoulder throbbing with a burning ache. I winced, feeling a wave of exhaustion threatening to overwhelm me. That surge of power, whatever it was, it had a cost.
"Are you... okay?" Lyra asked, her voice small.
My adrenaline-fueled bravado crumbled. "I don't know," I admitted honestly. "Lyra, I think... I think I need help."
Elder Torin crouched beside me, examining my wounded shoulder with a troubled frown. His touch was surprisingly gentle as he cleaned and dressed the wound. My entire body ached, and a nauseating wave of weakness washed over me.
"You wielded raw energy, Ravi," the elder said, his voice low. "It saved you, yet it also wounded you. This is the balance I spoke of."
My mind swam. "You mean... this is the 'price'?" I croaked.
He nodded grimly. "For some, it manifests in small ways – exhaustion, a lingering ache. For others..." He trailed off, leaving the rest unspoken.
Dread coiled in my gut. What if the next time I had to use this power, the price was… worse? My memories, my skills, my very being? I recalled the dead hound, its neck snapped with unnatural force, and shuddered. Had it been the magic, or had something inside me twisted to achieve that brutal victory?