Mammon's heart pounded as he watched the gathering group, feeling a mix of anticipation and urgency. Astranor's expression was grim, but there was a sense of determination in his eyes as he began to explain.
"We need to recover the body of a white magical wolf from the forest and bring it back to the village for a proper burial," Astranor said. The group of soldiers exchanged confused glances, and Elian raised an eyebrow.
"A burial for a magical beast?" Elian asked skeptically. "That's... uncommon."
"This isn't just any beast," Astranor said firmly. "It aided this young man, fought bravely, and gave him something of great significance before it died. It deserves our respect."
Veylin, who had been listening silently, gave a slow nod. "If Astranor says it's important, then we're with you. Let's get moving."
The group set out swiftly, moving through the dense forest at a quick pace. Mammon led the way, guiding them to the clearing where the white wolf's body lay. He felt a strange mix of emotions; sorrow for the wolf and relief that it would receive the burial it deserved, and a growing sense of responsibility.
As they moved deeper into the forest, the tension grew. The air felt heavier, and shadows loomed ominously among the trees. Astranor's presence seemed to keep the darkness at bay, his aura calming the forest as they passed. Finally, they arrived at the clearing where the wolf's body lay, bathed in the pale light of the moon that had begun to rise, but the wolf's body was not alone.
Five smaller wolves, along with a familiar larger one, stood around the fallen white wolf. The smaller wolves snarled in irritation until the larger wolf looked up and saw Mammon, along with Astranor. The large wolf tapped its right front paw lightly on the ground, signaling to the others that the newcomers were not enemies.
Recognizing the larger wolf, Astranor spoke to it telepathically. "I am sorry for the loss of your mate."
"Ah, old mage, it is nothing," the wolf's voice resonated. "It is truly an honor to see you in the forest again after so long."
"My pleasure, old friend. I have a request, can we take her body back to the village for a proper burial?"
"Yes, you may," the wolf responded with a note of sadness. "My time here is over. Goodbye, old mage."
"Goodbye," Astranor replied, bowing his head.
The wolf signaled to its pack, and they retreated into the darkness. Mammon knelt beside the fallen white wolf, gently brushing leaves off its fur. The scene felt surreal; the powerful creature that had fought so fiercely now looked peaceful in death.
The soldiers stood in silence, watching with a mixture of curiosity and reverence. Elian stepped forward, his usually hardened expression softening as he gazed at the wolf.
"What a magnificent beast," he murmured to himself.
"Indeed," Astranor agreed. "But we must hurry. The forest does not take kindly to lingering over death."
"Right," Veylin said, signaling to his men. "Let's prepare to move it."
Mammon felt a pang of sadness as they gently lifted the white wolf onto a makeshift stretcher. He walked beside it, his hand resting on its fur as they carried it back to the village. Meanwhile, four others, including Elian, stayed behind to retrieve the black wolf's body for extraction of its vital parts.
The journey felt longer on the way back, the weight of what had happened pressing down on him. But he kept moving, step by step, feeling the strength of his conviction grow with each stride.
Back in the village, a space had been prepared outside the walls, a small grove of ancient trees that stood like silent sentinels. The village's druids, wise in the ways of nature and respectful of all living creatures, had already gathered.
Mammon and the soldiers gently laid the wolf down, and Astranor stepped forward to address the gathered villagers who had come to witness the unusual event.
"This wolf," Astranor began, his voice strong and clear, "was no ordinary creature. It was a guardian of these woods, a protector who gave its life to aid one of our own. In its final moments, it showed honor and courage, and we will repay that with our respect."
The druids began a solemn chant, their voices blending into a low, harmonious hum that filled the grove. Vines gently twisted and grew, encircling the body of the wolf as if the forest itself was embracing her one final time.
Mammon watched, feeling the weight of his own promise and the wolf's final words echoing in his mind.
He felt a nudge at his side and looked up to see Astranor standing beside him. "You've done well, Mammon. Not many would go this far for a creature of the wild."
Mammon nodded, unable to find words. He simply watched as the druids completed their ritual, flowers blooming around the wolf's body, which now rested in a bed of soft greenery. There was a flash of light, and the yellow orb Mammon had been given began to glow faintly in his hand.
"What's happening?" Mammon whispered, staring at the orb.
"The orb reacts to strong emotions, especially bonds formed in the heat of battle," Astranor explained.
"It's a manifestation of the wolf's spirit and power, given to you as a gift. Keep it safe, it will guide you." He added.
As the ceremony drew to a close, Mammon found himself standing alone before the grave, the orb's glow still warm in his palm. He felt a mixture of grief and gratitude, knowing that the journey he'd begun was far from over.
He went to his quarters and lay down on the small bed, closing his eyes. Tomorrow was going to be a big day. He logged off from the game, feeling the disconnect wash over him. After eating a quick meal, he took a shower to freshen up, then rested for a few hours before logging back in.
------------------------
A/N: I would greatly appreciate comments and suggestions about the story at any point. I would also appreciate your honest reviews.
If you like the story, then please consider adding it to collection and voting with power stones.
Thanks. Have a great day.