Withering Ambition

The First Steps

A whisper of wind flowed past as the uneasy guards took up their shift. They knew not what they guarded, nor could they comprehend its importance. For them, every shadow seemed to move, every gust of wind seemed to shake up spirits from the trees.

The large amount of coins offered for their position almost made the psychological horror worth it. The moonlit skies and shadow-swept ground reached out to touch at the horizon, the edge of the island obscured from view by the fog.

A shadowy figure slipped behind the guards, who were too preoccupied with whether or not the small rustle they heard in the distance was a small animal or something to investigate.

A few uneasy minutes passed for the guards before their decision was made for them. An alarm was tripped in the basement below. The guards had been given orders not to descend into the basement under any circumstances, and as such they awaited help to arrive, but now facing towards the entrance, wary of what may come back out.

The figure cursed under his breath as he heard the alarm trigger. He had to act quickly. He searched the bookshelves frantically as he became more desperate. He could hear shouting at the entrance and knew he had only a minute or two before he was discovered.

He tossed book after book containing mundane spells to the ground before finally locating what he was after, but it seemed it was too late. Two mages descended the staircase, and one of them promptly fell to the ground as a mage beam impacted him from the other side of the room.

The other mage fired back in anger, which blasted off the hood of the shadowy figure. A shocked expression quickly took hold of the mage's face upon realizing the figure's identity, and he desperately shouted out, "Kaeman, no!"

Those were his last words.

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