"So where d'you say you were headed, young man?"
"I didn't say anything. I'll tell you where to leave me," James replied, not rudely but firmly.
Just then, he felt a tag from something a bit below his neck. He tugged his shirt aside, staring at the now weakly glowing ring. Yeah, he was going the wrong direction, no doubt about it.
"On second thought, maybe I'll vacate your hospitality a little earlier than planned."
"What? But its in the middle of nowhere. Let me get you to the next village."
"Nah, don't even worry about it. See I'm an athlete, and I gotta get my muscles warmed up. The run to the village is a necessity."
"I...see," the coach driver said in a voice that showed he saw nothing at all.
James smiled at the man, trying to put him at ease. It didn't work, but it was a victory in his book nonetheless when the man left. He watched the coach leave for a few moments, before he turned to examine the desolate environment he'd been dropped into.
The Halden territory was a typical farm filled land. But just outside of the Duke's own city lay a sight where gold mines had been discovered a few generations ago. The veins in this general area had all but dried up, but the reason for their wealth was the ever more veins of gold they were like to find.
The land here was dead. A few woody trees and shrubs scattered about on the grey landscape. The terrain was rough, stony, and dusty at once, destroyed by generations of the Halden's hunt for wealth. James sighed before he started to wade through it. He removed the ring from under his shirt, finding no need to hide it with no one around. He walked backwards for a while, the ring growing brighter and warmer as he went.
'Why the hell did she choose such a place? It should have been obvious I could never come to such a place, what with my laziness and all,' then the ring started to dim. He turned back around, and it dimmed again on his fourth step in that direction. 'Hmm...'
He moved back two steps, waited. It got a little brighter but only just. He took half a step, and it brightened before losing just a little of its light once his foot touched down. 'So its very specific?' He adjusted his foot a few inches back. The ring brightened. He had to find which direction to follow next.
Like any lazy fool, he hoped the direction that led away from the waste land was the right one. He turned that way and took four steps. He willed the ring not to lose its warmth, and he could have sworn it had grown hotter before he opened his hand. At which point the temperature started to drop again at a very alarming rate. He wanted to cry as he turned in the opposite direction. 'You couldn't have made anything easy, could you, mother?'
Then he stepped deeper into the wilderness. This is what he imagined a desert felt like. Except this was just the size of a town. Grey dust would have caused him a lot of trouble had he not thought to cover his face with the scarf he'd thought to bring in case of emergency. He'd brought a few other supplies in a satchel in case things got out of hand.
The land was forbidding as far as the eye could see. And there was nothing in the distance, but the ring brightened and burned hotter the further he trudged. Soon, he could see a large tree in a depression in the ground. It was stuck in a ditch, but its leafless branches lorded over the surrounding land like the arms of a many handed giant. Then he wasn't alone anymore.
He didn't know how he sensed her, but he knew the blow was coming and long ingrained instincts clicked. He dived towards the left, rolled once, twice, then cried out in pain. One of his muscles had popped as he dived, probably his left butt. Then he'd forgotten about the stony ground, and his very smooth skin. He cursed as a tiny shape came flying at him.
And the only thing he could do to protect himself was rely on the one contingency James had worked on all his life. And he'd only learnt the spell to punish imprudent bar owners who wouldn't give him his booze, like his father's friend who was even fond of lecturing him.
All he could see was fire. The incantation poured from him, and he could see the spell form taking shape. The creature flying towards him realised just what was about to happen. It tried to dive to the right, realised that wasn't enough, then turned and tried to create as much distance from him as it could.
The flames burst out of his blood, a shrill shout escaped from the creature. 'The whine of a scared dog? And is that a human shout?'
A young human, to be exact. James dived back into his head, fighting his spell formula with all his might. He could feel the wild flames race toward the young woman, leaking at her tail, the girl, now a four legged beast burst every ounce of speed from her small body she could. And it was not going to be enough.
The flames raced, and the girl ran, and she wasn't fast enough;and a tongue of flame licked the tip of her tail. She screamed, in agony, sorrow, resignation.
But just then, James managed to wrestle the wild spell form into his control, taking control of the fire and having it swirl around the howling animal. It swirled once, twice, formed a vortex, and then turned skywards and away from the little dead town sized field. Everywhere the flame had flown past, the land was devastated. 'I knew this character had a lot of potential, but still. The only combat worthy spell he ever learnt was a fourth tier spell.'
Even though the main character Jason had a lot of mana since birth, he'd struggled learning fourth tier spells and higher. He'd instead focused on the more malleable third tier spells. The only fourth level spell he'd learned was a lightning spell because it looked scary, and because he could reuse the spell to create his speciality: electricity magic.
Which didn't exist in this world hence a unique overpowered ability that had helped him in lots of tough spots. James wondered if maybe he could use his wildfire spell to come up with his own special ability that would make him a world power. He discarded the idea as soon as it formed.
Besides, now was no time to get distracted by wild fantasies. He was pretty sure he'd killed her. A moanfull howl brought his searching eyes towards a small creature in the distance. He jogged toward it, or tried to at least. His lungs gave out not a few seconds into the run.
White fur, pointy snout, more canine than anything, but so tiny, like the size of a rabbit. The other one was much bigger, but it was perhaps as big as a doberman in girth, shorter than one though. And she was not breathing. The vortex of flame at the end must have knocked her out.
The ring around his neck was now vibrating. Remotely, he realised he'd come closer to the white wooded tree. He couldn't think of that now. He also couldn't think why the red heat of the ring didn't affect him as much as it should. He knelt beside the moaning little fox. 'Do they have three tails? Isn't there a myth somewhere in my old world about three tailed foxes? Demons?'
He didn't know. And at that time it was only secondary to his current problem. He only had one healing potion. And his wounds stung more than he remembered any little cuts doing in his old life. The temptation to use it himself was overwhelming, but in the end he fed it to the girl he was pretty sure was still alive.
The little fox had tried to growl at him when he'd approached, but its attempt was more half hearted than anything. It was scared of him, and still in moaning of a sort. The white of the girl-fox's tummy writhed, then she was sputtering, trying to roll onto her dirty yellow back. James held her firmly to keep her resting on her side. When he was sure she was stable, he moved to follow the song of his blood.
Because he could feel it calling to him, even now. He moved like a man possessed, and the wind itself seemed to urge him on.
"No! Wait. You can't go there! The tree is cursed!" it was a little boy's voice.
Just then though, James was deaf to anything that was not absolute power, absolute bliss. The sky itself listened to him, and the clouds above the tree whirled in a dizzying dance as power melded with his own soul. James laughed like a mad man.
Power was intoxicating, it was addictive. Perhaps that was why having it scared him.