She turned her head in alarm, but it was a millisecond too late.
She was thrown back, her golden shield shattering as she collapsed to the ground, dazed and vulnerable. Roan's heart lurched as he saw her struggle to rise, her movements sluggish, the dark magic seeping into her very being.
Without thinking, Roan moved.
He sprang from his hiding spot, sprinting toward the young mage as the battle raged around him. His mind screamed at him to stop, to turn back before it was too late, but his body moved on instinct. He couldn't just stand by and watch her die.
As he reached her, Roan grabbed the young mage by the arm, pulling her to her feet just as another wave of dark magic surged toward them. With a desperate shout, he dragged her behind a large stone pillar, shielding her with his body as the blast hit the pillar, sending fragments of stone flying in every direction.
The young mage looked up at him, her black eyes wide with surprise and pain. "Who—?"
"Stay down," Roan hissed, his voice urgent. "You're hurt."
She shook her head, trying to gather her strength. "You… Roan..?"
"How do you know who I am—?!" His eyes travelled from the darkness to her face, searching for answers. "Wait… Astreil?" A flicker of recognition in his eyes as she nodded. She was also someone that came from the orphanage, but she left around three months when he first came. The only reason why he could vividly remember her was her striking red hair.
Roan glanced over the edge of the pillar, seeing the battle still raging fiercely. The imperial mages were struggling, their numbers dwindling as the dark mages pressed their advantage. They couldn't hold out much longer.
"Can you stand?" he asked, his voice tight with worry.
The young mage nodded, though her movements were shaky, pouring a health potion into her mouth. "I'll manage. But we need to find a way to stop that thing."
He helped the young mage up, as she held her magic staff in her hands. "Watch out for me! I need to use a light spell to dissipate the darkness, only then can we stop these things!"
As they maneuvered back to the center the ruins, Astreil paused, her breath steadying as she prepared to cast a spell. Roan stood guard, his eyes scanning the battlefield, his bow at the ready. The shadows that clung to the dark mages were unnerving, shifting and coiling like living things. Roan had faced many dangers in his journey, but this was unlike anything he'd encountered before.
Astreil knelt, her hands glowing with a soft, golden light as she began to chant. The air around her shimmered, and Roan could feel the warmth radiating from her spell, a stark contrast to the cold, dark magic that permeated the area. The light seemed to push back the shadows, creating a small sanctuary of hope amidst the chaos.
Roan nocked an arrow, his gaze fixed on the approaching dark mages. They had noticed Astreil's spell and were closing in, their eyes filled with malice. He took aim, loosing arrows with deadly precision, each one finding its mark. The shadows recoiled, hissing as they were pierced, but more kept coming, relentless in their assault.
He moved with practiced ease, firing arrow after arrow, keeping the dark mages at bay. But as he fought, something caught his eye—an insignia emblazoned on the robe of one of the dark mages. His heart skipped a beat as recognition slammed into him like a physical blow.
It was the same horned creature—the symbol he had seen on that fateful night, the night his village burned, and his family was taken from him. The insignia was unmistakable, etched into his memory with the searing pain of loss. The sight of it now, here in this cursed place, sent a surge of rage through his veins.
His hands trembled slightly as he drew another arrow, but his aim remained true. The insignia on the dark mage's robe seemed to mock him, a cruel reminder of the past he had tried so hard to bury. He gritted his teeth, focusing his anger into each shot, determined to end this nightmare.
"Just a bit more!" She cried out, griping her staff tightly. Astreil's light spell was growing stronger, the golden glow intensifying as she chanted. But the dark mages were closing in, their dark magic pressing against the light, trying to snuff it out. Roan knew he had to keep them away—had to protect her at all costs.
As he loosed another arrow, his mind raced. Who were these dark mages? What connection did they have to the ones who had attacked his village? And why were they here, in these ruins, summoning such a terrible force?
But there was no time for answers. The dark mages were relentless, their magic growing more desperate as Astreil's light pushed them back.
The light magic pulsed once, twice, before washing the entire area with a dazzling golden light. He shut his eyes tight before it blinded him, wincing from the light energy that pulsated through his very bones.
The shadowy figures twisted and writhed, before they disintegrated into nothingness, leaving only silence in its wake.
When the light finally dimmed, Roan lowered his arm, blinking against the afterglow. The ruins, once filled with the chaotic energy of battle, were now eerily quiet. The dark mages had been driven back, their power broken by Astreil's spell.
He turned to Astreil, concern flooding him as he saw her swaying on her feet, her face pale and drawn. Blood trickled from her nose, and a deep gash on her arm bled freely, staining her robes. She had poured everything into that spell, and it had taken a heavy toll.
"Astreil!" Roan rushed to her side, catching her just as she began to collapse. He gently lowered her to the ground, his heart racing. "You're bleeding… you used too much energy."
Astreil tried to smile, but it was weak. "I had to… stop them. It was the only way."
Just then, the remaining imperial mages, who had been scattered and struggling against the dark forces, began to regroup. They hurried over, their faces a mix of relief and concern as they saw Astreil's condition. The leader of the mages, the older man with the elaborate robes, knelt beside her, his expression softening with worry.
She winced as the older mage applied a healing spell to her wound, the light from his hands warm and soothing. "I'm sorry, Master Elric… I didn't mean to push myself so far."
Master Elric shook his head, his expression serious but understanding. "You did what you had to, and you succeeded. But you should have waited for us. This was too much for one mage to handle alone."
Roan, still holding her, watched as the other mages moved to assist her, their concern evident. They worked quickly, applying healing magic and stabilizing her condition, but Roan could see how exhausted she was. She had pushed herself beyond her limits, and it was only by sheer will that she had managed to succeed.
As the mages worked, Roan's mind drifted back to the insignia he had seen on the dark mage's robe. The image of the horned creature was burned into his memory, a symbol of the nightmare that had haunted him for years. Now, it seemed, that his past was linked to something far more dangerous and far-reaching than he had ever imagined.
"Roan…" Astreil's weak voice brought him back to the present. She looked up at him, her black eyes filled with a mix of pain and gratitude. "Thank you… for saving me."
Roan shook his head, brushing a strand of red hair from her face."We're not done yet, Astreil. There's more going on here than we know."
Master Elric approached Roan, his stern expression a sharp contrast to the gratitude in his eyes. "That was a reckless thing to do," he began, his voice carrying the weight of authority. "You're not a mage, young man. You could have been killed. Magic battles are no place for someone without the proper training."
"I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. Astreil needed help." Roan met his gaze, unflinching.
The older mage sighed. "I understand your intentions, but this was incredibly dangerous. You're fortunate that things didn't end much worse for you—or for her."
There was a moment of silence before he continued. "But for what it's worth, you showed great courage. Your actions may have saved her life, and for that, you have my thanks." He placed a hand on Roan's shoulder, a gesture of both acknowledgment and caution. "Just… be more careful. This world of magic is far more treacherous than you realize."
Roan nodded, his jaw set in determination. "I will."
Master Elric turned to the other mages, giving them a signal. They began to prepare a portal, weaving the necessary spells with swift, practiced movements. As the air around them shimmered and twisted, a glowing doorway of light formed, connecting them back to the safety of the royal tower.
Astreil, still weakened but now stable thanks to the healing magic, looked up at Roan. "Will you be alright?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.
Roan offered her a small, reassuring smile. "I'll be fine. You just focus on getting better."
Master Elric gave a final nod to Roan before motioning for Astreil to follow the other mages through the portal. She hesitated for a moment, her eyes lingering on Roan, before she stepped through the glowing doorway. With a rush of energy, the portal closed behind them, leaving Roan alone amidst the ruins.
*
Roan arrived back at his cottage, the weight of the day's events pressing heavily on his shoulders. The quiet of his home was a stark contrast to the chaos of the magic that thrummed in his veins. It seemed like this was the aftershock of being so close to such a strong spell.
He entered the shower, the cold water refreshing his body. But it did little to ease the storm of thoughts in his mind. As he scrubbed at the stains of blood and dirt, his mind kept drifting back to the ruins and the dark mages.
The insignia on the dark mage's robe was a haunting reminder of the night that had changed his life forever. It was clear now that there was a deeper connection between his past and the forces he had faced today. But what exactly was that connection? And why had these dark mages been involved in summoning such a powerful entity?
He cursed his inability to do anything. He needs to get stronger, he needs to start learning to fight with magic to fight magic.
The image of Astreil, exhausted and bleeding, flashed before his eyes. He had been able to help her, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he had stumbled into something much larger than he had anticipated. The magic, the dark forces, the royal mages—everything was tied together in a web that he was only beginning to understand.
As he finished cleaning, Roan took a deep breath, trying to center himself. He had been thrust into a world of magic and danger, but he needed to remain focused. His quest for revenge had brought him into this tangled web, but now it seemed that he had to navigate it with even greater care.
He took a seat at his small wooden table, the flickering light of a nearby candle casting shadows on the walls. The quiet was almost comforting, a reminder of the calm he had found in his solitude. He picked up a small, weathered notebook from the table and began to jot down his thoughts and observations. The act of writing helped him organize his thoughts, turning his chaotic emotions into something more manageable.
First, the insignia that has haunted him for years are part of a large fabric of magic. His initial hunch was that they were hired mercenaries, but it seems like they are dark mages, capable of harnessing terrifying powers.
Second, Astreil was an Imperial mage. It was comforting to know that an acquaintance was of such high standing. And seeing how he had saved her life, she was in her debt.
Third, the ruins themselves were a focal point of magical significance. The fact that such a powerful summoning had occurred there suggested that the location held secrets—ancient magic or artifacts that were of great interest to the dark mages and the imperial mages alike. Investigating the ruins further could reveal more about what had drawn the dark mages' attention.
As Roan finished his notes, he closed the notebook and leaned back in his chair, the weight of his thoughts settling heavily on him.
A knock on the door, a bubbly yet quiet voice floating in. "Roan? Are you in there?
"Celria?" He perked up at the voice, as the door creaked open, revealing the young woman holding a tray of food.