The Lost Vanguard

The wolves lunged with feral precision, their fangs glinting in the eerie light as they closed in on the trio. Kaldar met the first wolf head-on, his massive sword swinging in a wide arc that forced the beast to retreat with a snarl. The second wolf darted toward Elryan, who spun on his heel, his blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy. Myrial stood slightly back, her staff glowing with a bright, ethereal light as she cast a shimmering barrier around them.

"Focus!" Kaldar barked, his voice cutting through the chaos. His blade crashed against the side of a wolf, the impact sending a spray of snow into the air. The beast staggered but didn't fall, its glowing eyes fixed on him with unrelenting hatred.

Elryan parried a lunge from another wolf, his blade clashing against its razor-sharp claws. He ducked under its next swipe, his movements fluid and precise. "A little help here!" he called, his tone edged with irritation.

Myrial didn't respond with words. Instead, she raised her staff and unleashed a blast of frost that struck the wolf mid-leap, freezing its hind legs to the ground. The beast howled, its movements slowing just enough for Elryan to deliver a decisive blow. The wolf collapsed in a heap, its body convulsing before falling still.

The remaining wolves adjusted their tactics, circling their prey with predatory cunning. Kaldar charged forward, his sword carving a deadly path through the snow. He swung again, this time connecting with a wolf's flank. The beast let out a guttural cry, its form crumpling to the ground.

Meanwhile, I crept closer to the mage, my movements silent and deliberate. The fire in my chest surged, its heat flooding my veins as I approached him. The mage stood rigid, his focus unwavering as he chanted in a low, guttural tone. Dark energy coiled around him, forming twisting shapes that pulsed with an unnatural rhythm.

This was my chance.

I tightened my grip on my sword and lunged forward. The sound of my boots crunching against the snow must have alerted him, as he turned his head sharply, his hood falling back to reveal a gaunt, pale face. His eyes widened in surprise, but he had no time to react fully. My blade descended in a powerful arc, the weight of the sword giving it unstoppable momentum.

The mage raised his hand instinctively, a faint shimmer of magic forming between us. It wasn't enough. My sword cleaved through the barrier, the impact shattering the weak defense and continuing its path. The blade bit into his forearm, severing it cleanly at the wrist. A spray of dark blood erupted, the mage's scream echoing through the clearing.

He staggered back, clutching the stump of his arm as his staff fell to the ground. His dark energy faltered, the swirling shapes dissipating into the cold air. I raised my sword for another strike, but before I could bring it down, he moved with surprising speed. His remaining hand shot out, grabbing the fallen staff and slamming its base into the ground.

A wave of force exploded outward, catching me off guard. The impact sent me flying backward, my body slamming into the trunk of a tree. Pain erupted in my back as the air was forced from my lungs. I struggled to breathe, the fire in my chest flickering weakly as I slumped to the ground.

The mage advanced, his face twisted in fury and pain. He raised his remaining hand, and dark energy coalesced around the stump of his arm. A grotesque, translucent appendage formed, crackling with power. He extended the magical hand, its ethereal fingers closing around my throat. The pressure was immense, lifting me off the ground as he drew me closer.

"You'll regret that," he snarled, his voice venomous. "I'll break you, boy. Turn you into my puppet. Your will, your fire, it will all be mine."

His eyes glowed with a sickly green light, the same energy beginning to seep from his mouth as he chanted in a language I couldn't understand. The light intensified, filling my vision as he stared into my eyes. I felt a pull, as though something inside me was being dragged toward him.

And then… nothing.

The pull stopped abruptly, as though hitting an unyielding wall. The fire in my chest roared defiantly, its heat flaring in response to the mage's magic. His eyes widened in confusion and then fear as the glow faded.

"What?" he hissed, his grip faltering. "No… that's not possible."

Seizing the moment, I reached for the dwarven dagger at my belt. With all the strength I could muster, I drove it upward, the blade piercing his neck just below the jaw. The mage's chant turned into a gurgle as dark blood spilled over the blade. His grip on my throat vanished, and he staggered backward, clutching at the dagger embedded in his neck.

I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air as the fire in my chest pulsed triumphantly. The mage stumbled, his movements erratic as he tried to maintain control. His glowing arm flickered, the magic unraveling with each desperate motion. Finally, with a guttural cry, he fell to his knees, then to the snow, his body convulsing before lying still.

The clearing fell eerily silent, save for the distant sounds of battle. I turned my head, my vision swimming as I caught sight of Kaldar, Myrial, and Elryan. The wolves had fallen again, but as if on command, their bodies began to shudder and rise once more. Their empty eyes glowed faintly, the dark magic tethering them to the mage refusing to release its hold.

Kaldar's gaze snapped to me, his expression a mix of relief and urgency. "Alaric! Are you all right?" he called, his voice cutting through the haze.

I nodded weakly, my hand still clutching the hilt of my sword. The fire in my chest burned brighter than ever, its whispers now a steady roar.

This wasn't over. Not yet.