Chapter 1 - The Team Assembles
The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a dull red glow over the mountain range as Asharic stood at the edge of the camp. His wings—black as night with a faint shimmer—flared slightly in the breeze, casting shadows across the sparse landscape. Despite the warmth of the late afternoon, a chill lingered in the air, as though even the earth itself sensed the weight of the mission ahead.
Asharic’s sharp ears twitched as he caught snippets of conversation from the others, the murmurs of his comrades echoing like distant voices, but none of them seemed to fully reach him. His mind was elsewhere, tangled in the thoughts that always crept up when they began a new mission. The group had been preparing for weeks, gathering information about the mysterious figure known only as Victor, the man responsible for the burning of five towns.
The way in which he picked the towns was very specific. Each town was spaced out, and the five together formed the shape of a pentagram. The towns had been devastated, the people's homes left in ruins. There also was a rumor everyone found fairly believable; that Victor had a "base of operations" collectively named as the Pentagon Manor. The group’s task was simple in theory: hunt down Victor, capture him, and put an end to the destruction.
But nothing about this felt simple to Asharic.
"Hey, Asha, are you with us?" A voice broke through his thoughts, and he turned to find his mentor, Fyris, watching him from a few paces away. The man’s fiery red hair glowed faintly in the dying light, and his amber eyes burned with a determination Asharic had come to respect over the years. Fyris was a master of flame magic, and while his power was unmatched, it was his wisdom that Asharic valued most.
“I’m here,” Asharic said quietly, his voice a soft whisper despite the distance between them.
Fyris smiled, a knowing glint in his eyes. “Good. We leave at dawn. The trail leads south, to a town recently burned to the ground. Make sure you have everything you need”
Asharic nodded, his eyes drifting over to the rest of the group. They were gathering their supplies, preparing for the journey ahead, but Asharic couldn’t shake the feeling of unease that had settled in his chest. There was something about this mission that felt different..something he couldn’t quite put into words.
“The town we’re heading to is called Vireston,” Fyris continued, his expression serious. “It was one of the first to fall. From what we know, Victor left behind traces of his dark magic, and we need to uncover more about how he’s doing this. These fires aren’t just destruction,they’re a ritual. And the Pentagram Manor? We’ve traced its relative location, but it’s hidden in a way that makes it nearly impossible to find.”
Asharic felt a cold shiver at the mention of the manor. No one knew much about it, but rumors had spread of people who ventured too close and never returned. They had found remnants of strange looking symbols around the sites of the fires.
“But the town we’re heading to?” Asharic asked, his voice steady despite the rising anxiety in his chest. “Why Vireston? How do we know Victor’s still there?”
Fyris’ gaze hardened. “We don’t know for sure. But every time Victor’s left his mark, he’s followed a pattern. The town was burned only days ago. The villagers who survived said they saw cloaked figures in the night, chanting in an ancient tongue. We’re not sure what Victor is after, but we know he’s getting closer to something powerful.”
The mention of the cloaked figures sent a chill down Asharic’s spine. There was a growing sense that something larger was at play here, something far darker than a simple arsonist.
“And what of the Pentagram Manor?” Asharic asked, voicing the question that had been on his mind since the mission had been assigned.
Fyris frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “The manor is a key to understanding Victor’s power. The pentagram shape... it’s symbolic, a binding of sorts. We’ve only ever seen it in connection with dark rituals, powerful magic that manipulates life and death itself. If Victor is using it to fuel his fires, we may be dealing with more than just a rogue mage.”
There was a pause, the weight of those words settling over them like a dark cloud. Asharic’s heart thudded against his chest. The Pentagram Manor wasn’t just a building; it was a symbol of something much more sinister. They had to stop it before it spread further.
“We’ll have to be cautious,” Fyris continued, his voice dropping to a more serious tone. “Victor’s power is unlike anything we’ve encountered. We’re going to need everyone at their best. And Asha,” he added, turning his gaze to Asharic, “I’ll need you to stay focused. This isn’t going to be like anything we’ve faced before.”
Asharic swallowed, nodding quickly. He could feel the weight of his mentor’s words, the pressure mounting on him. He was a valuable asset to the group, but sometimes, it felt like too much, too much to control, too much to lose.
“I’ll be ready,” Asharic said, the words feeling hollow even as they left his lips.
Just then, a voice shouted from the other side of the camp. It was Lysandra, her eyes shining with the same sharp intelligence that had earned her a place in their ranks. She was one of the more gifted members of the group, quick to pick up on the subtleties of magic, but there was something else about her...a quiet ambition that Asharic had never been able to fully understand.
“Asha,” she called again, her tone slightly impatient. “We’re waiting on you. Are you coming?”
Asharic’s gaze shifted. It was hard to ignore the small, lingering sense of envy he’d always sensed from Lysandra when it came to his abilities. Her magic was powerful, sure, but not like his. It was something he hadn’t asked for, something that had taken root in him in a way that still felt foreign. Shadow magic. Cursed magic. It was both a gift and a curse in equal measure, something he didn’t always know how to control.
“I’ll be there in a moment,” Asharic responded, forcing a smile. He didn’t want to linger on his doubts, not now, not with the mission ahead.
He followed Fyris toward the rest of the team, but as he walked, a nagging feeling gnawed at the back of his mind. He could sense the tension between the members of the group—especially between Lysandra and himself. Some of it was hidden, subtle, but Asharic wasn’t blind. He could feel the tension between them.
Lysandra was already gathering with the others, her striking features framed by her dark hair, her deep, violet eyes scanning the horizon as she spoke with the other members of the group. A few of them, like Kaelen, a tall and quiet warrior with dark skin, seemed to be listening intently, while others, such as a kindhearted young lady called Selene, appeared more concerned with the supplies they were loading onto their mounts.
“Asha,” Lysandra greeted him as he approached, though her smile never quite reached her eyes. “You seem lost in thought.”
“I’m fine,” he said, offering a quick nod.
Lysandra’s eyes lingered on him for a moment longer than necessary before she turned her attention back to the others. Asharic couldn’t help but wonder if he’d imagined the edge to her voice.
“Is everyone ready?” Fyris called, drawing the group’s attention. “We leave at dawn. Victor won’t be waiting for us.”
There was a chorus of affirmations as the group began to settle in for the night, preparing for the journey ahead. Asharic stood quietly at the back, watching them, his icey blue eyes distant, his mind churning with thoughts that he couldn’t fully grasp.
This mission would either be the start of something greater...or the beginning of a downfall. Asharic just didn’t know which yet.
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