Atlas of the World

Chapter 4

"Who's there!"

Sylph called out again, his eyes darting around the trees and brush that filled the thick, lush forest. The sun sunk into the horizon, fading along with the last traces of light it created. He hastily felt his sides along his rough leather belt, looking for his wand, something to help, provide a comfort that he could defend himself.

In the silence of night, another growl made Sylph's breath hitch in his throat as he swung around, exhaling shakily into the cold air.

"Come out! Show yourself!" Sylph made an effort to keep his voice level as he brandished his wand, holding it at his side, ready to defend himself.

With a crash and a loud roar, a shadowed beast leaped from the bushes, pinning Sylph to the ground. It's burning red eyes burning into Sylph's as he struggled in it's clawed grasp. Every movement made the beast grip him harder as he tried to reach for his wand, which had gotten knocked from his grasp.

"Let me go!" He shouted, shifting so his feet were against the beast's belly. He then proceeded to force upwards with his legs, throwing it back a few meters. Sylph grabbed his wand from the stone tiles as it began to charge him, and held it out in front of him.

"Ignisaer Ordo!" He shouted and a glyph appeared at his feet, ancient elven woven into the glowing mark. Another smaller glyph appeared on the end of the wand and lightning shot at the beast, electrocuting it mid lunge.

Sylph panted softly as the shadowed monster collapsed to the ground, unmoving. He sighed and kicked it a few times, making sure it was dead before he quickly headed back inside the temple, locking up all entries.

-<>-<>-

"That was too close." He grumbles to himself, splashing water on his face, before reaching for the towel. He took a deep breath, looking at his face tiredly in the mirror.

His young, handsome face was creased with scars and exhaustion, creating dark circles under his eyes. He squinted, looking closely at his faded eyes, feeling a shiver go through him just from the icy stare the reflection gave him.

His lips twisted into a look of disgust, and he looked away, pulling on his shirt and climbing up the old cobblestone staircase.

-<>-<>-

The cold mossy smell of the temple was masked by the lit incense candles on the mantle of the fireplace, giving the room a healing feel. Sylph rested crosslegged on the woven carpet in the centre of the room, the light from the flickering flames painting dark shadows on his face.

Closing his eyes, he searched his memories, lightly dancing over each scene and memory until they had gone back a few years.

Static.