Berserk

"Q, WATCH OUT!!!" Julia shouted, levitating both herself, and Eliot to the top branches of the surrounding thickets.

The creature circled him, his fulvous eyes reflecting Quentin's cowering, crouched position by the base of the oak tree. Here the skulking creature had the advantage. Here, the darkness was its playground. Here, Quentin and his friends were merely prey, who had not yet evolved enough to stand the slightest chance of survival. Quentin extended his arms, his palms facing outward, the index fingers of each hand pressed firmly against their respective thumbs.

"Stay back," he warned.

The creature's snarls only grew louder. Closer. Hungrier. "Lux Illuminet," Quentin chanted, a white light projecting from his hands, hovering slightly above his head. The prowling animal, now cloaked in light came to a stop, baring its elongated teeth at Quentin, its pointed ears erect, listening for the slightest change in his heartbeat.

"QUENTIN, GET OUT OF THERE! WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!" Eliot yelled from above.

Quentin cupped his hands around his mouth, calling out, "NO, YOU GUYS, UM, SOMETHING'S NOT LIKE, RIGHT, HERE. I THINK WE'VE JUDGED THE SITUATION INCORRECTLY! HE COULDN'T HAVE EATEN FENRIR"

Julia and Eliot gracefully fluttered down, landing on either side of him, eyeing the animal that stood before them.

Eliot looked at Quentin, tapping him on the shoulder. "Exactly how did we misjudge anything? There's a HUGE freaking wolfman prowling around right in front of us, and in case you haven't noticed," he paused, brushing his hand against Quentin's parka. "You're the only one wearing this dreadful color, Little Red Riding Hood."

"Shh, both of you," Julia ordered, positioning her head so that an ear faced towards the wolf.

"But, I didn't eve—"

She shot him a menacing look, signaling that whatever he had to say was not important enough to finish his sentence.

"Listen, you guys. Don't you hear it? Julia asked. "His heartbeat, it doesn't contain any traces of animality!

Quentin faced his ear towards the wolf, moving the loose strands of hair behind his lobe. "I hear it too!" he admitted.

Weaving his hands together, he produced an amethystine ray of light that slithered around the quadruped's legs, forcing it to fall to its side.

"What are you doing?" Julia asked, her eyes fixed on the tormented animal.

Quentin, still spellcasting, turned his head to Julia. "I'm helping it," he assured her.

The wolf writhed in pain on the forest's ground, its hind legs and tail furiously whipping the surrounding leaves into the air, as it howled long, incessant cries for help, until the leaves themselves began to glow. The howls eventually dissipated, converting into the screams of human agony, as its silhouette began shrinking down in size, its front legs reverting to hairy human arms, with the rest of its body following after.

"Thank you for that," the newly emerged man called out from underneath a pelt of auburn wolf fur, as he lie outstretched, scratching the disheveled beard that'd encroached his face. "I'd been stuck in mid-shift for 'bout a year, I reckon. Consequences of tainted will power, no doubt." He stood on his two feet, stretching as if he'd just awaked from a long nap, then extending his hand to the three of them. "Name's Fenrir, the last of the known Berserkers."

Quentin instinctively shot his arm out to shake his hand, as he gawked, awe stricken. He'd read about the Berserkers in the Fillory books, as a boy. Berserkers, he recalled, were notorious for being the only magicians capable of enhancing their magic by harnessing the power of beasts, via the utilization of their consecrated spirits, while still retaining their own humanoid shape.