I lay overcome by shock and fear in the street, staring at the corpse of the behemoth that wreaked such desolation. Its massive, patchwork body lay twisted and broken, a testament to the wardens' bravery and the creature's unnatural resilience. My senses were dulled, the world around me a blur of sound and motion. Suddenly, Sebastian was in front of me, his presence commanding and urgent. He pressed a red vial into my hand.
He mimed for me to drink the vial. Then he was gone, leading a group of wardens to another part of the city.
I continued to stare at the beast, my mind numb. Time seemed to stretch, each second an eternity. Slowly, my thoughts began to clear, and I looked down at the vial in my hand. Realizing what it was, I uncorked it and swallowed its contents. Warmth spread through me, and I felt my hearing return, the scrapes on my skin mending.
I could hear the wardens shouting and running, the grinding of wood and metal, and the impact of pilling debris. We were preparing for a siege. Refocused, I retrieved The Complete Compendium of Known Mystical Beasts from my storage and began riffling through its pages, matching the occasional part of the abomination to various fantastical species.
I knelt beside the massive corpse of the behemoth, my hands trembling with a mix of trepidation and grim determination. The patchwork monstrosity lay motionless, its unnaturally assembled body a grotesque puzzle waiting to be unraveled. The air was thick with the scent of blood and decay, a metallic tang that seemed to cling to the back of my throat.
Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I drew a sword from laying on the cobblestone, its blade gleaming in the dim light. I started with the fur-covered leg, the flesh yielding reluctantly under the sharp edge and steady pressure. As I peeled back the layers of thick hide, I uncovered a strange amalgamation of muscles and sinew, twisted together in a way that defied natural anatomy.
"This is artificial," I muttered to myself, the words a comfort in the dull drone of distant noises.
With careful precision, I continued my dissection, removing layer after layer of skin and tissue. Each cut revealed more of the unnatural construction: muscles of bear intertwined with tendons of boar, ligaments of wolf merged with sinew from unknown creatures. It was a gruesome tapestry, each thread telling a story of dark magic and forbidden alchemy.
As I reached the chest cavity, I paused, my breath catching in my throat. The beast's innards were sparse, most of its organs missing. Only the lungs and heart remained, or only the lungs and heart were supplied? Their dark green hue a stark contrast to the surrounding flesh. The heart, in particular, seemed to pulse with a cold energy, its arteries tainted with a pitch-black ichor.
Carefully, I extracted the heart, the black ichor oozing onto my hands. The substance felt cold and alien, seeping through my fingers with a life of its own. As I worked, the ichor began to lose its color, turning into a dull, lifeless sludge atop of my skin. Left behind was a small, polished black marble, smooth and cold to the touch.
"What are you?" I whispered, holding the marble up to the light. The coldness it radiated felt eerily familiar, an itch of memory scratched underneath my skin.
Driven by curiosity and a sense of urgency, I continued my examination. Each felled beast yielded a similar find—small, black beads hidden within their hearts. As I collected them, I felt a strange energy emanating from the collection of onyx pearls. Pascal's veil around me began to fail, its mana twisting and absorbing into the crystals.
"Vexcrystals," I breathed, the realization dawning on me. "They all have vexcrystals in their hearts!"
I retrieved my own vexcrystals chest from within my storage bracelet and filled the thing with the small processed vexcrystals. The enchantment now fully dispersed, I watched as the last remnants of mana were absorbed, leaving behind nothing to hide me from whatever the wardens were fighting.
Clutching the collection of vexcrystals, I stood up, my muscles aching from the prolonged effort. I knew I had to find my master, to share what I had discovered. This knowledge was too important to keep to myself, and the implications were too dire to ignore.
With a final glance at the dissected remains of the behemoth, I turned and made my way across to the city walls, my mind racing with the revelations and the dark possibilities they hinted at.
As I walked through the city of Aetherhaven, the destruction that had befallen us seeped into my bones, a heavy weight of despair and horror. The scent of smoke and blood lingered in the air, mingling with the acrid tang of burning wood and the stench of death.
Buildings lay in ruins, their foundations cracked and walls reduced to rubble. The cries of the wounded and the dying echoed around me, a haunting symphony of suffering. I stepped over shattered timbers and broken cobblestones, each footfall a reminder of the chaos that had erupted. The cobbled streets, once so pristine, felt like a twisted labyrinth of despair. Ahead, a fountain that once stood as a symbol of the city's center now spewed water tinged with crimson, its marble cracked and defaced.
I passed the remnants of a marketplace, stalls overturned and goods scattered, their vibrant colors dulled by a layer of ash. A merchant lay motionless, his wares scattered around him like forgotten dreams. I swallowed hard, forcing myself to keep moving.
As I continued, I saw families huddled together, their faces etched with fear and grief. Mothers clutching their children, fathers with haunted eyes, searching for loved ones amidst the wreckage. The weight of their emotions pressed down on me, a burden I could hardly bear secondhanded.
I made my way past a row of houses, their doors torn from hinges, windows shattered. The intimate spaces of everyday life laid bare, exposed to the elements and the prying eyes of the devastation. In one doorway, a woman knelt, clutching a ragged doll to her chest, her sobs a soft, heartbreaking counterpoint to the chaos around her.
Everywhere I looked, there were signs of the monstrous assault. Claw marks gouged into stone, scorch marks from magical blasts, and the bodies of both humans and beasts littering the streets. The city that had once been a beacon of hope and civilization was now a battlefield, its beauty marred by violence and destruction.
As I neared the city walls, the sounds of battle grew louder. The rhythmic thud of ballistae firing, the shouts of commanders, and the clash of weapons were a grim reminder that the siege was far from over. The wardens, those who still stood, were fighting valiantly to hold the line, their faces set with grim determination.
I could see my master, Sebastian, standing atop the wall, his presence commanding and unyielding. He was issuing orders with the calm precision of a seasoned warrior, his voice cutting through the din of battle. The sight of him, steadfast and resolute, brought a flicker of hope to my heart.
Aetherhaven was under siege, its people currently suffering and its future uncertain. But amidst the ruins, there was still a spark of defiance, a will to survive and fight back. The wardens entrenched themselves upon the stone palisade. A plethora of defensive weapons laid stockpiled behind crenulations.
I made my way to Sebastian, clutching my fists tightly. The knowledge I carried might hold the key to understanding our enemy, and perhaps, finding a way to turn the tide of this dreadful assault. As I climbed the steps to the wall, I steeled myself for the battle that lay ahead, determined to do whatever it took to save our city and our people.
I shouted for Sebastian several times until he eventually sent a page to deliver my message. Sebastian nodded at me and sent the page with his response: "That is unnerving. Direct evidence of a manufactured attack upon my city. Squire, take your uncle's gryphons post haste. Fly to Gwydion. Tell the council there of this attack. Bring me magicians by order of the Grandwarden."
I rushed back to the barracks. I saw Pascal dying on the floor. Dying for me. I set a chair beside of the table, dragging the set underneath the chandelier. After struggling to extinguish the candles, I thought to try by using one of my large books. I slammed the cover shut. Several attempts later, I rushed down the stairs and shook Ulysses awake.
Out of breath and pannicked, I blurted out words, "Attack... Monster... Seige... Gwydion.. Pascal..." I flailed my hands about gesturing to an approximate location of each of those things to accentuate my plea.
"Woah! Slow down Micah. Breath." Uncle replied.
"PASCALS UPSTAIRS DYING!" I yelled while trying to pull Uncle out of bed.
We hurried upstairs where we found Pascal. Ulysses slowly knelt beside him and examined his body.
Slowly with an emotional quivering, Uncle said, "M-m-my friend... Don't. Don't leave me..."
I watched with guilty eyes as Uncle pulled open Pascal mouth and fed him a blue potion; his skin regained some volume. Next, Ulysses gave him a red potion and his breathing stabilized. Finally uncle forced down a yellow potion. Several seconds later, Pascal awoke with a deep gasp, reaching out and clasping uncles tunic while he gulped down more air.
"Oh! thank the angels!" Uncle remarked.
We helped Pascal stand, my mind full of relief as we pulled him up.
"Artificial monsters attacked! Everyone's dead. Master and the wardens fought them back and our holding off a siege on the walls. We need to fly to Gwydion. I have an order to bring help!"
"Like golems?" Ulysses asked.
"No. Just look along the way. They are scattered everywhere." I replied.
Together, we rushed to where the gryphons were staying, just minutes away. Not bothering with the carriage, we climbed directly onto the gryphons. Ulysses fed each gryphon a yellow potion, and then we took to the skies.
The trio of myself, uncle, and Pascal soared through the air atop their gryphons, the world below transforming into a blurred carpet of greens and browns. Hills and valleys merged into a seamless expanse, the details of the terrain lost in the dizzying speed of their flight. The gryphons, magnificent creatures of feather and muscle, were now fully exerting their natural speed, amplified by the potent potion Uncle Ulysses had fed them.
I clung tightly to Pascal, his knuckles white as the wind whipped past them, tearing at our clothes and roaring in our ears. The sensation of flight was exhilarating, a heady mix of fear and awe as we raced toward Gwydion. The gryphons' powerful wings beat rhythmically, propelling us forward with incredible force. I could feel the raw energy of the creatures as its muscles tensed and shifted beneath me, a testament to their strength and the magic coursing through their veins.
They dodged birds and common flying magical creatures with practiced ease, the gryphons' instincts and agility ensuring their path remained clear. I caught glimpses of startled flocks of sparrows scattering, their forms a flurry of feathers against the sky. Occasionally, we encountered a larger magical beast, like a sky serpent or a winged elk, but the gryphons maneuvered around them with a deftness that left me breathless.
The sky was a vast, open expanse, the sun a brilliant orb casting golden light over the horizon. Clouds raced past us, wisps of white that seemed to beckon and tease as they tore through the heavens. The sheer speed at which we traveled made the journey feel surreal, as if we rode the very wind itself.
Ulysses led the way, his gryphon a blur of dark feathers against the azure sky. He glanced back occasionally, his eyes sharp and assessing, ensuring Pascal and Micah kept pace. Pascal, ever the skilled rider, matched Ulysses' speed and maneuvers effortlessly, his connection with his gryphon evident in the fluidity of their movements.
I marveled at the sight, my heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and determination. The urgency of our mission pressed upon me, the need to reach Gwydion and seek aid driving them ever faster.
As we neared our destination, the landscape began to change, the endless green giving way to the landmarks of Gwydion's outskirts. The towering spires of the city's grand architecture rose in the distance, their majestic forms a beacon of hope and sanctuary.
The gryphons, sensing the end of their journey, poured on an extra burst of speed, their bodies sleek and powerful as they streaked toward the city. I held on tightly, my eyes fixed on the approaching skyline, my mind focused on the mission.
With a final, exhilarating rush, we descended toward Gwydion, the gryphons' wings spreading wide to slow our descent. The ground rushed up to meet them, and with a graceful swoop, they landed at the edge of the city. Ulysses, Pascal, and I dismounted as we were swarmed by guards, magical beasts, and magicians.