For him to live, a witch must die.
Driven out of his village for the curse he possesses, Tavor is alone. With nowhere else to go, he must venture into the Eylderfell to hunt down the witch who cursed him.
But the forest is dangerous, wild with magic...
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The Elder called up a burst of power and sent it flying towards Tavor.
Tavor braced himself. He focused on that flicker he'd felt earlier - the last grasp of power inside him. He let it brim to the surface, calling up a translucent ward to protect him. Just a shred of magic, like the grasp of a child. It did not protect him from the Elder's fury. The blast hit him full-on. Tavor flew backwards, body crumpling against the wall of the town hall.
He struggled to his feet with a groan. Still alive.
Huge vines snaked across the ground. They attacked him from all sides, plunging into his body. One wrapped around his stomach and slung him hard against the ground. Tavor wheezed as he bounced across the cobbles. Tears sprang to his eyes as pain rang all over him.
Again, he stood. He still felt that gentle tether to the power within him, the flicker of magic burning.
Stronger this time.
The ground heaved. The ripple through the earth demolished the row of buildings. It flung Tavor skywards. He flailed in mid-air, grasping at nothing. Then gravity grabbed him and slammed him into a pile of rubble.
The ward still held. Not enough to protect him, but enough to keep him going. Keep on enduring the attacks, one by one. His body felt like a ragdoll, but again he stood, breathing hard. The Elder roared and let loose a blast of white energy, howling towards him like a hurricane. His skin screamed with blistering pain as it enveloped him. Tavor dove to the side, taking shelter behind a collapsed stone wall.
Blood wept from cracks zigzagging over his skin. Angry red blisters sent stinging pain over his arms.
"Had enough already?" The Elder loosed another blast that pulverised the stone into grey dust.
Tavor threw up a shield just in time to block the follow-up. This time it held just long enough to deflect the attack. The Elder's spell bounced off the ward and punched into the ground, cracking the cobbles, but leaving Tavor unscathed.
He stood up. He felt a buzzing sensation ripple over his skin. Not just pain this time, but power.
Its working. Nestani had told him his magic grew when exposed to it. Each time the Elder attacked him, his own power increased, little by little. Tavor held out his amputated arm, extending it towards a cluster of dry branches at the ground. Branches snaked across the ground towards him. They coiled up his legs, then his arm, extending up past his wrist to where his hand used to be. Branches curled around his wrist and twined together. They locked together into a solid mass, forming first a palm, then fingers.
The Elder backed up a step. "Impossible," it snarled. "I took your magic."
Tavor flexed his hand and the branches curled into a fist. "I'm a fast learner."
He spread his arms. Light crackled between his hands, arcing between them like electricity. He gathered the energy into a ball and launched it forward. The Elder was thrown backwards, landing on its back amidst the rubble.
