Amanda moved swiftly through the dense forest, each step carrying her farther from the trail of noble soldiers she'd left behind. Her chest heaved with exertion and exhilaration. Despite her magic and skill, she'd felt the sting of her own limitations, and the realization burned in her mind. The nobles and their forces were far more formidable than she'd expected. Her current power wouldn't be enough to take them all down—she needed more.
In the aftermath of the fight, she reached for a vial tucked carefully in her cloak—a dark elixir she'd kept since she found it the hidden realm.
The demonic race changer. Until now, she'd resisted the temptation to use it, knowing that drinking it would sever her last connection to her former self. But as she looked down at the defeated soldiers, the memory of her family's fate burned in her mind, her resolve hardening. There was no turning back. She had to take it now as she would not get another chance to use it.
With a single, decisive motion, Amanda uncorked the elixir and drank it, the taste bitter and potent. Instantly, the energy surged through her, a dark heat that consumed her from the inside. She sank to her knees as the transformation began, her mind forced inward, where a storm of pain and power swirled in equal measure. Her body and soul were reshaping.
In the darkness of her mind, she caught glimpses of her new form, its true nature and strength revealing itself to her.
Her fingers flexed involuntarily as her nails sharpened into obsidian claws, her skin hardening to a supernatural resilience. four powerful horns spiralled from her temples, arcing upwards like a twisted, elegant crown, emanating an aura of dread and power. Wings erupted from her back, vast and powerful, each feather edged in black and red, and radiating a faint glow as they unfurled. She could feel the weight of them, how every muscle shifted to support their strength.
At her back, a powerful, sinuous tail emerged, sleek and strong, inscribed with faintly glowing runes that pulsed in time with her heartbeat.
Her ears lengthened, tapering to elegant points reminiscent of the elves, though hers bore a darker, fiercer edge.
Opening her eyes, she felt her vision sharpen, her gaze now carrying the piercing clarity of a dragon's, her pupils narrowed to fierce slits.
The familiar red of her hair seemed brighter, more alive, a cascade of crimson fire framing her face.
The sensation of magic within her shifted, deepened, expanded. She could feel her affinity for magic amplifying, reaching new heights, as if layers of potential had been unlocked all at once.
This transformation had not only increased her power—it had opened the door to new affinities hidden deep within her, ones she was only beginning to sense.
When the rush of transformation subsided, Amanda let out a slow breath, marvelling at the strength she now felt coursing through her veins.
She focused, and her wings, horns, and tail receded, allowing her to appear human once more, though her ears stayed slightly pointed, her eyes carrying a dangerous gleam, a hint of the monster that lay beneath the surface. She felt an intense clarity—a balance between her human and demonic forms, each a part of her, both coexisting as one.
With renewed strength, she rose, clutching the amulet that pulsed with its own dark power.
This was more than just a new form—it was a transformation of purpose, of identity. She was no longer simply Amanda; she was becoming something else, something unstoppable.
Stepping through the forest, she was aware of every sound, every movement, her senses sharper than ever. Suddenly, a rustling caught her attention. She tensed, only to see a figure emerging from the shadows. An elf bleeding from multiple wounds that is almost at deaths door. Amanda saw how desperately he was clinging to life. As she was about approach the elf, She felt an innate knowledge whispering to her to turn the elf into a demonic elf but she ignored it for now.
She tried to heal with healing magic, but that did not work for multiple reasons. First, she did not have an affinity for life magic. Second, even though it's possible to use spells from other affinities, it has a higher cost of mana and only applies to not-so-rare elements.
For example, if someone has a time spell but does not have an affinity for time, then you would not be able to use that spell no matter how much mana they have.
She is now considering turning the elf into a demonic elf but she has to get his consent as that is a requirement to turn someone.
Amanda knelt, her fingers brushing the elf's wrist. His breathing was shallow, his life hanging by a thread.
"Why are you here?" she demanded, her voice cold but curious.
The elf coughed weakly, managing a strained response. "I... I sought power... like you. But I failed the get the a in the hidden." His gaze flicked to the amulet in her hand, recognition flashing in his eyes. "You passed".
Amanda was shocked to see someone else who went to the demonic hidden realm and failed. As stated before Amanda was and is still unaware of the requirements in hidden realms and ruins.
Amanda considered him for a moment. A failed contender, but he'd survived long enough to escape the ruin´s magic. That alone was impressive.
Amanda's crimson eyes narrowed. His survival, despite his failure, intrigued her. It was rare for someone to escape the grasp of such a ruin, even in defeat. Yet here he was, on the verge of death, but still breathing. She was impressed.
Her earlier hesitation to heed the whispers within her mind faded. She felt the innate knowledge within her demonic bloodline stirring again, more insistent now. Turning him into a demonic elf could save him and grant her an ally—one loyal by the very nature of their shared bloodline.
But there was a catch: she couldn't force the transformation. He had to consent willingly.
"You're dying," Amanda said bluntly, standing over him. "I can save you, but not in the way you expect. If you agree, you will no longer be what you are now. You will be more but also something entirely different".
The elf's eyes flickered open, confusion and curiosity evident. "What... are you offering?"
Amanda knelt beside him, leaning in so her voice dropped to a near-whisper, laced with the dark promise of power. "I am no longer what I once was, and I have the power to grant you a second chance but this comes at a price. You will become a demonic elf, tied to me through blood and loyalty. You will have power beyond your imagination, but you will no longer be... just yourself. Decide quickly, or death will decide for you".
The elf's gaze hardened, even through his pain. "Power… is worth any price. I accept".
Amanda smiled faintly, a mix of satisfaction and foreboding. "Good".
She closed her eyes, focusing on the new instincts embedded within her since her transformation. Her bloodline surged to life, ancient and commanding.
Amanda placed her palm against the elf's chest, the air around them crackling with energy. The whispers in her mind sharpened, guiding her as black and crimson runes began to glow on her hand.
The elf gasped, his body arching upward as the magic coursed through him.
Shadows swirled around them, seeping into his wounds, into his very essence. His skin darkened slightly, taking on a faint ashen tone, while his emerald eyes shifted to a burning crimson, mirroring Amanda's own.
His ears elongated further, sharper and more angular than before, and black markings etched themselves along his arms and neck like living tattoos.
When the transformation finished, the elf lay still for a moment, his breathing steadier, his wounds completely gone. Then his eyes opened, glowing faintly in the dim light of the forest. He sat up slowly, looking at his hands in awe.
"I... feel... alive," he murmured, his voice stronger than before. He looked up at Amanda, his expression a mixture of gratitude and reverence. "What have you done to me?"
"I've given you a second chance," Amanda replied, standing and extending a hand to him. "Now, you're bound to me, and in return, you've gained the power you sought. Welcome to your new life".
The elf took her hand, rising to his feet. He moved with a grace and strength that hadn't been there before, his injuries now a distant memory.
"What should I call you?" Amanda asked.
"Eryndor," he said after a moment, his voice steady.
"Well, Eryndor," Amanda said, her lips curling into a wry smile, "your new life begins now. But remember: your loyalty to me isn't just expected—it's demanded. Fail me, and I'll take back what I've given".
Eryndor nodded, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Understood. I owe you my life, consider it yours".
Satisfied, Amanda turned, motioning for him to follow. The forest seemed to grow quieter as they moved together, predator and prey alike sensing the power radiating from them both. With Eryndor by her side, Amanda felt the first stirrings of what her demonic race could become—a force to be reckoned with.
Before they set off for camp, Amanda called for her beast which was hiding while healing from the fight with the elixir guardian. the possibilities of her newfound power coursed through her mind. She would test it, control it, and when the time was right, unleash it upon her enemies. The nobles had made a grave mistake—and soon, every last one of them would come to fear the name Amanda, the Demon Progenitor.