And so, with the red dragon's lifeless body as tangible proof of his triumph, the magician ensured that his fallen comrades would be recognized, avenged, and immortalized by the treasure he received. The shock of his accomplishment echoed through the merchant guild, altering their perception of what was possible and fueling further curiosity about the man who dared to challenge the impossible.As the magician made his way towards the adventurers guild, tears still welled in his eyes, refusing to let go of the grief that clung to him even in his moments of triumph. The weight of loss sat heavily on his shoulders, threatening to break his resolve. Yet, he pressed forward, seeking solace and understanding from his fellow adventurers.Upon entering the guild, he was immediately greeted by sympathetic eyes and understanding nods. The seasoned adventurers, who had also tasted the bitterness of loss, recognized the pain etched across his face. They gathered around him, offering words of comfort, their presence a reassuring reminder that he was not alone.A burly adventurer with a grizzled beard handed him a drink, a concoction known for its ability to momentarily numb pain. The magician accepted the gesture gratefully, the liquid burning his throat as it washed away some of the sorrow that consumed him. The warmth of camaraderie surrounded him, providing a temporary respite from his anguish.As the night wore on and stories were shared, the magician found solace in the companionship of his fellow adventurers. Their tales of triumph and loss echoed his own, reminding him that his grief was not a burden borne in isolation. They listened, offering understanding nods and shared empathy, understanding the complexity of emotions that weighed him down.Eventually, the night grew late, and the magician bid his comrades farewell, his heart still heavy with sorrow. Wandering back to his room, his steps were unsteady, his mind clouded by the alcohol consumed in an attempt to numb the pain. Tears continued to fall, unabated, as a sense of emptiness enveloped him.Alone in his room, the magician collapsed onto his bed, his body exhausted from the emotional turmoil that had consumed him. Sobs wracked his frame as grief and fatigue intertwined, leaving him vulnerable and raw. The room was steeped in silence, broken only by the haunting echoes of his cries as he curled in bed.As the night progressed, exhaustion and emotional release eventually overtook him, the magician cried himself to sleep. His body surrendered to dreams, a tumultuous mixture of memories and desires, but even in slumber, grief clung to him like a specter, never fully releasing its grip.And so, with a heavy heart and tear-stained cheeks, the magician found solace in the oblivion of sleep, seeking a temporary refuge from the pain that had consumed him. Hoping that with the arrival of a new day, a glimmer of healing would start to mend the shattered fragments of his spirit.In the following days, the magician found himself cooped up in his room, an isolated haven where he sought solace from the outside world. The weight of his grief still clung to him tightly, refusing to release its grip. He yearned for a connection, for someone or something to understand the depth of his pain.In the solitude of his room, the magician sought solace in the presence of his summoned beasts. These creatures, loyal companions brought forth from other realms, had always been by his side, their bond forged through shared experiences and battles. With their supernatural understanding, they provided a source of comfort in their own unique way.He spoke to them, basking in the familiarity of their presence as if it could fill the void left by his fallen comrades. They listened, their eyes reflecting a blend of loyalty and empathy. Though unable to offer advice or bring back those that were lost, their companionship provided a silent support that eased his burden, if only momentarily.In these intimate conversations, the magician found solace in recounting tales of bravery and camaraderie that he once shared with his team. He spoke of their triumphs and the bittersweet memories that accompanied them, allowing himself to relive those moments in the company of his summoned beasts.Days melted into nights, marked only by the steady ebb and flow of his conversations with his summoned companions. The magician, gripped by a mix of sorrow and longing, found solace in the presence of these beings, who served as a reminder of the bond he had lost.While the outside world carried on, the magician remained cocooned in his room, finding solace in the only company that could truly understand the extent of his pain. The walls enclosed him, creating a safe haven where he could share his deepest vulnerabilities without fear of judgment or misunderstanding.Yet, amidst the solace he found in these solitary exchanges, the magician longed for healing, for a way to move forward and find purpose once more. The grief that had enveloped him had grown into an insidious force, threatening to consume him entirely. And so, within the confines of his room, he yearned for the strength to face the world once more, guided by the memories of his fallen comrades and the companionship of his summoned beasts.In the depths of his dimly lit room, filled with the scent of ancient tomes and lingering traces of precious incense, the magician found himself absorbed in his own thoughts. The air, heavy with unease, swirled around him as he attempted to unravel the complexities of a new spells from the dungeon. Every syllable mattered; every flick of his wrist held the potential for greatness or disaster.As he embarked upon this delicate pursuit of magical mastery, his concentration was suddenly shattered by a loud knock at the door. Startled, he stumbled, his mind still caught in the ethereal realm of magic. The adventurer's guild master, a stoic figure known for his unyielding devotion to the king, stood before him, a stern expression etched upon his face.