"Lume sil ignis..."
Rastabaan opened his hand to spark a tiny flame. The darkness of the forest diminished around him to reveal a pathway that he hoped would lead to the nearest village. He started down the winding road with his spellbook flipping to page one as he grabbed an apple out of his pouch for a snack.
He read the elegant elvish script to himself as he walked along.
"The Ronsyn Arcana School for Mages Handbook - Introduction. This is an introduction to your first years of mage training under Magister Eluu Ronsyn. Before we begin on the teachings of spells, there are a few very important things to know about what it means to be a mage and our world."
He took a bite of the apple, his words muffling now as he skipped a few lines down.
"The ancients and dragons of old have come to call our world Mana'Terra. It is a name derived from the literal meaning of a land made of mana. It is known that everyone and everything that exists is made of mana."
Rastabaan swallowed, now pulling his spellbook closer.
"Legend has it that when Mana'Terra was created long past another powerful force was also. It was a being later dubbed the Magelord, the guardian of the world and the very link between mankind and mana within all life forms. The Magelord is succeeded by his heirs to keep magic in balance and to preserve all the natural life cycles until endtime..."
He now closed the book.
Rastabaan lifted his head to peer through the azure leaves of Pitch Thicket to see a swirling storm of violet clouds above the forest that never settled. He looked grim at this until a chilling wind brought him back to the path before him. Every now and then there was howls and screams of monsters somewhere lurking in the dark.
The world was now out of control without the Magelord.
It had been so long since the death of Inraas Magusovh, the last known heir to the guardian. Many people now had come to expect this dark and frightening world as a part of their everyday existence.
Including Rastabaan.
But the boy continued down this trail into the deep woods in hope that he could somehow save his world.
He walked for what seemed like miles through the treacherous wilderness on his quest. In that time, a thick fog had formed around him that made his surroundings all the more harder to determine. There was a silence that left him hearing his own heartbeat. Night was still in its prime, and there was no other light in the woods as famed for its name.
Rastabaan stopped.
There was a silhouette up ahead of a small cottage-like home. He would have believed it to be the start of the Umbran Village he had been searching for, but the tiny residence was well off the path of the road he had been following. He immediately chanted to the spellbook to flip to the back page. There was a map of Pitch Thicket handy. He illuminated its directions with the light of his small fireball only to find that this home up ahead was not recorded.
He stared at the house as a fear began to prick at his heart, sending shivers through his back to the top of his shoulders, with a lingering chill just at the base of his neck.
This place was not welcoming.
Stay away, his heart told him.
He did not intend to argue with this notion.
The boy went to start again down the road just as he heard a rustling between the trees somewhere behind him. He turned around instantly, eyes shifting about to scan through the fog for any hint of what caused the startling noise. He could barely even see his own hand in front of his face.
The wind then picked up with a whistling screech that made him flinch, the black trunks around him groaning as their beryl leaves swept away. The forest grew colder, and the fog was soon joined with his breath in the air.
There was a cackling in the forest just then that sent flocks of birds into the sky, woodland creatures scurrying to the nearest bush, and silhouettes of monsters raced by him to flee from whatever they feared more in the night.
With another gust his fire spell went out.
"L-Lume sil ignis!"
The flame in his hand flickered, then out.
Rastabaan stiffened.
He was blind now in every direction.
Another laughter on the wind sent his heart skipping beats.
He would run, but run where?
There was nowhere to go in the dark.
Suddenly...
The forest became still.
The fog became thinner and lower to the ground.
The wind fell, hushing the trees to fall asleep.
The cold died to return the summer climate.
The darkness around him weakened to a more natural night.
Like a spell had been broken.
The boy stood still in the woods as he looked around.
Everything was quiet. Dark, but quiet.
He breathed finally with relief. He was alone.
Perhaps whatever it was that frightened the creatures of the forest had gave chase and left.
Just as he made the turn to head back down the trail...
Rastabaan bumped into something harshly that sent him to the ground. He sat there among his scattered supplies briefly as he recovered from the recoil, and then he looked up to see a dark figure there standing before him.
"Gaaah!", the boy shrieked, floundering backwards in the dirt to the nearest tree trunk.
A sinister laugh bellowed out now as a pair of yellow eyes parted the dark.
"Well, well... What have we here?"
Rastabaan was paralyzed. He stared at a man that was once an elf like himself.
The man was garbed in armored robes dyed in colors that displayed his threatening nature, just as a fierce predator would. His pauldrons gleamed neon green, chest plate a more shadowy blue, and a mauve cloth robe underneath. A cape as red as blood spread over his shoulders like wings, draping down his back to touch the very fog at his feet.
His hair was raven, full and pulled back high behind him.
The skin of the creature was so dark that it looked almost burnt. The veins in his face were just at the surface, black and branching out just like the forest around them.
Timeless, he seemed.
It was unlike anything the mage had seen before.
But most definitely he had read about.
"Y-You're a Vorgul!"
The man flashed him a grin, revealing two very distinct fangs.
"Is that what they are calling us now?", the creature chuckled, waving his hand to cause the spellbook to lift gently off the ground to float in the air before him.
Rastabaan watched as his book obeyed silent commands, flipping several pages to land on the introductory section of beasts and monsters.
There was a hum, then a snicker.
"Vorgul - A Highborne elf transformed by the curse of a warlock, he is doomed to feast on the blood of his kin and beasts alike to sate an everlasting hunger. They dwell in the perpetual night of the Dreadlands region, waiting for unsuspecting prey. They are immune to spells, making them one of the deadliest monsters to roam Mana'Terra..."
A pause, citrine gaze shifting to the boy.
"Someone has been studying. I'm impressed."
Rastabaan now quickly got up, back pressed against the tree to support his quaking body. Terrible thoughts raced in his mind as he engaged with the monster further.
"W-Who are you? What do you w-want with me??"
The Vorgul smiled with glinting eyes. He drew closer, stepping off a log to come down with a feather-like grace.
"And good evening to you! I am Vashanoru Bloodgorge", he answered, fangs set threateningly as he approached. "You seem very much out of your element, boy. Just who are you exactly?"
The young student became locked in his stare.
He tried to speak, but the words wouldn't come as the creature came just inches from his face.
Vashanoru looked over the petrified youth more closely.
The boy wore an interestingly tailored teal tunic, with one side a full sleeve and the other purposefully missing to uncover his left shoulder and arm. The outer edges were white, and some gray was mixed in the wardrobe for his gloves and boots. The belt he wore was crafted with lavender steel, hugging his small frame.
His arm had the most peculiar runes engraved in his left shoulder, with lights of blue and purple shining in them.
The youth was certainly an elf, blessed with the more usual blonde hair and fair skin.
By the spellbook alone, Vashanoru could tell he was a practicing pupil of a Magister.
The Vorgul narrowed his gaze, staring deeply now into the shaking azure set of eyes before him.
"Not saying, are we?", tongue flicking out against his sharp teeth. "Come now, little mage, I really must know!"
Rastabaan now looked confused between his nervous expression.
"My name r-really isn't that important..."
Vashanoru looked doubtful at this, suddenly catching the boy by the chin with his claws.
"Is that so? I can't say I believe that."
He paused, letting go as he gave the child a more bloodthirsty gander.
"I find names a wonderful way of keeping track over the years. There has been so many I have acquainted myself with. But no matter, as that isn't the real reason we are here. You are prey, afterall, yes?"
Rastabaan gasped now.
"W-What?! No, you cant!"
The creature chuckled, amused.
"Oh, I can, I assure you. I suggest you start running..."
Rastabaan immediately found the strength to start sprinting down the road.
As the boy ran with all his might, Vashanoru lingered there a moment to listen to his pounding heartbeat that faded softly as more and more distance between them was created.
The Vorgul let out a desirous sigh, the hunger inside waiting for the thrill of the hunt.
"I can just...taste you already..."
The young mage raced through the trees as fast as he could go, a horror spurring his feet to keep moving despite how exhausted he was from his prior travels. He couldn't stop or else these woods would be the last thing he ever saw.
He jumped over a fallen log to land and slide down a hill of moist dirt, nearly tripping face first once at the bottom, but he kept moving past the branches.
The same terrifying laughter echoed behind him.
Don't stop, he thought. It can't end like this.
Rastabaan found himself with the wind at his back, carrying his legs over more land than he could cross.
In the distance ahead, the Umbran Village began to come into sight.
He was almost there.
Almost there.
Suddenly, he felt his head swing back as a pain rushed through his skull from behind.
He found himself unable to run further, being held back by his hair.
"Ugh! L-Let me go!"
He felt claws wrap around him, pulling him into a threatening embrace as he fought to free himself.
Vashanoru knelt as he held the boy tightly, like a spider catching a fly.
"Easy now, little mage", he chuckled in the youth's ear, grinning. "Don't struggle. You will only make things worse."
Rastabaan then felt all his will to fight being zapped away. He slumped back against the creature, feeling a chilling breath dangerously close to his neck.
"Please... I'm begging you. Don't do this!"
The Vorgul smiled sadistically.
"Oh, but I MUST! You are young, your blood is fresh! And I'm so very hungry..."
Rastabaan then found his mouth being covered with one hand, and his body pinned down by the other.
The youth panicked, unable to even attempt further negotiations.
Vashanoru drew closer with a whisper, licking his lips.
"Shhh... Relax. Just let yourself fall asleep..."
The Vorgul opened his maw now.
The boy squinted his eyes as his cries were muffled, feeling an intense pain radiate from his neck through his body, unable to wiggle loose from the unyielding grasp of the monster.
He felt his eyes wet as a hopelessness rushed through him with the agony. There was no escape.
The forest around him began to blur, his head feeling lighter as he felt the blood being drained from him.
I-I'm going to die here, he thought. This is it. How I fall and the fate of the world with me.
It felt like forever there in the Vorgul's jaws, but it had merely been seconds.
Rastabaan was suddenly released, barely catching himself before falling to the ground face first. The boy sensed that the world around him was swaying, and he felt weaker than he had just minutes ago.
But he smiled.
He realized he was still alive.
Somehow.
Vashanoru swallowed, lifting his head to feel the warm blood run down his throat. The taste lingered with a sweet finish, thick enough to satisfy him for the time being. The veins around his eyes then settled more beneath the skin, relaxing after a well earned meal. He could stop for now. There would always be more later.
"That...was delicious", he sighed, the hunger pangs subsiding. "I never expected so much mana to be in the blood of such a small thing like you. It has been years since anyone has left me content with a single bite instead of longing for more."
The Vorgul now lowered his head, yellow eyes coming to meet with a hazy set of sapphire.
There was a grin now on his face.
"Tell me, child with the sweet blood... Who are you?"
Rastabaan barely got to his knees to stand before the creature, holding his bleeding neck.
He looked more serious than scared now.
"I can't tell you that...", he answered wearily.
Vashanoru laughed at the stubborn boy, now waving his hand to create a scroll there between them that rolled out seemingly endlessly with writing scripted in red.
The youth noticed that the elvish was scribed in blood of hundreds upon hundreds of names.
Victims. All of them victims of the monster.
"They all tell me in the end, boy", Vashanoru replied. "Each one of them has made a contract with me. I let them live, they give me more blood willingly when I pay them a visit. The choice is simple really."
The mage stood almost defiantly.
"You mean you prey and feed on innocent people! No one should have to live their lives in fear of you. Not if I can end this!"
The Vorgul now rose to his feet, an amused smirk on his face as the scroll spiraled gently around his wrist.
"Would you rather me sweep across this land and kill all I see? That, instead, is what would be happening. What do you think you can do to save all these people, kid?"
There was a glint in his eye now.
"Perhaps... You had something in mind?"
Rastabaan lowered his hand from his neck, reaching his bloodied fingers towards the creature.
"I will trade you for all the names on that parchment...with my name."
Vashanoru looked intrigued by this, licking his outer lips to taste a few last drops.
"In addition", Rastabaan went on boldly, "you cannot add any other names to the list. Just me. That's the deal."
"You would sacrifice yourself for them?"
"Yes."
The Vorgul was stunned briefly, then he chuckled.
"And what makes you think I would agree to these terms?"
The boy closed his eyes with a heaviness in his chest.
He could hardly believe what he was about to say.
His secret.
"Because... I'm Rastabaan Magusovh, the Magelord."
Vashanoru Bloodgorge then genuinely smiled at this.
He had been taken by surprise once again by this child.
"The son of Inraas stands before me... I'll be damned", he replied at last, looking over this gutsy boy. "It has been some time since anyone has heard the name Magusovh. Fourteen years to be precise. Which explains you, I'd imagine."
Rastabaan nodded, eyes glancing around the woods.
"Then you know now why I'm here. I have to be the guardian my father couldn't be, to save the world and return balance to mana. I have to help everyone I can on the way."
The youth breathed.
"I have to try at least. That's why I'm making you this deal. And I know you can't refuse!"
The Vorgul laughed, eyes shining back.
"I honestly can't", he admits, letting the scroll flow down just before the boy.
The two exchanged very serious looks now.
"I will accept your terms, little Magelord", Vashanoru smirked. "I hope you understand what you are asking for. You will be the only one I feed on, when I ask it of you, anytime or anywhere. If you should ever fail to comply, I will take your life and the contract will be null and void. I will then resume the ways of the hunt."
The Magelord nodded, taking a breath as he let that sink in.
It was one more duty to Mana'Terra to appease this savage man.
"Where do I sign?"
"At the bottom. All it needs is a drop of blood."
Rastabaan looked at his hand, then hovered his palm over the parchment.
A single drop of crimson slid off his finger, splattering on the paper. A spell in the contract then gathered the blood into a point, beginning to scribe his name at the bottom in beautiful elvish.
It was done.
Vashanoru Bloodgorge then flashed the boy his painted fangs.
"Never forget... You belong to me."
Discord
Light Style