Fantasy Divagations

He ran straight ahead, blindly, for he didn't know how long. Ten, maybe fifteen minutes. He tore through the undergrowth blocking his path. He tried to avoid them, but the darkness effectively prevented him. Invisible branches snagged his clothes, cutting his flesh. Moreover, his clothes were smeared with blood leaking from his mouth. His back was riddled with wounds inflicted by a very sharp weapon. He ran for another dozen or so seconds, tripping over roots protruding from the ground. At a certain point, his body began to rebel. When unbearable pain ripped through his lungs from lack of air, and his legs began to give out, he stopped. He clutched his left side and gasped for air. Breathing heavily, he spat out the excess blood that had gathered in his mouth and looked around. At first, he couldn't grasp where he was. Fatigue and fear prevented him from focusing on specifics. He leaned forward to gather his thoughts and try to stop the raging headache. After a moment, he succeeded. He slowly surveyed his surroundings. Everywhere he saw all sorts of trees and bushes. Tall, short, thick, and thin. They resembled those he'd seen while walking through the Eastern Forest; the same colors, the same air. But after a moment, he felt strange. Something was missing. He realized he couldn't hear any animals, and on top of that, there was this strange vapor hovering near the ground. It swirled and twisted. From its depths, a faint humming sound emanated every so often. Despite the exhaustion and chill, shivers unrelated to the cold spread through his body. He felt the plants around him trying to capture his mind with their invisible tentacles. However, they failed. As quickly as they had appeared, they vanished. It was as if they had encountered some barrier. He shook himself out of his sudden stupor, and a strange scent assaulted his nostrils. A scent he didn't recognize. That was enough for him to understand that he was surrounded on all sides by the Northern Forest. A mysterious, infamous place where no one had ever entered. He'd read that from Siralos's books. For a moment, he recalled old Rahadnak's words: "Do not enter this part of the forest. Alone! I do not know what is there, and that must be enough of a warning." He remembered the words; they were etched in his memory like a birthmark. At the time, he couldn't believe that Rahadnak himself hadn't entered.

He stood as if paralyzed, holding his side, his gaze fixed on a single point. Utter helplessness gripped his limbs. Nothing he could think of to do came to mind. "I can't turn back, but I can't go any further either. I can only stand here and stand," he thought, and immediately chastised himself for the panic creeping into his mind. "Don't give up so quickly. You're alive, aren't you?" That's how I live, but that doesn't change the fact that I'm caught between a rock and a hard place. Between this... what... something and the Forbidden Forest.

Suddenly, a terrible pain shot through his entire body, radiating from the bottom upward. It brought him to his knees, forcing him to let out an indescribable scream. He braced himself with his hands and vomited blood. The headache intensified, as did the exhaustion. The shock of the sudden jolt instantly brought back memories of the past few minutes. Images of the massacre of his family flashed through him like a kaleidoscope. He remembered most of the details. They returned almost like a boomerang. He covered his face with his hands and burst into tears. He suddenly realized that everything had changed, and at the same time, it was over. Nothing would be the same. This was what he had feared most all his life: transience and painful loss. He knew it would happen someday, but he hadn't foreseen today.

While his mind remained numb, four black creatures with yellow eyes, the size of bears, silently emerged from the darkness. Colorless steam rose from their mouths, armed with several-inch-long fangs. They slowly walked in a parallel row. They stopped about four meters from the nearest bush. The boy was twenty meters away. They fixed their gaze on the figure kneeling on the ground and stared at it for a moment, as if assessing their opponent. Their gaze was filled with mad brutality and bloodlust. They twitched their muzzles repeatedly, emitting faint gasps. Another beast appeared right behind the beast. It was enormous and hideous. Its muzzle was deformed, as if something heavy had fallen on its head. Protrusions resembling thorns grew all over its skull. A jagged line divided its entire body, and at the right angle, viscera could be seen moving. In its right paw, it held four severed human heads, fresh blood still dripping from them. It hovered above the ground using a pair of wings, dragging behind it the remains of headless bodies that were tied with a rope to a huge hook driven into its left side.

A smile spread across her large face as she saw another defenseless victim before her. A victim who had managed to escape during the first attack. "Hadder, allgrta," she said aloud. The words flowed through an invisible corridor and entered the minds of the beasts ahead. The boy froze. He also heard a bass voice, as if from the bottom of a barrel. He didn't understand the exact sentence, but he sensed, unconsciously or instinctively, the magical formula. He turned as quickly as he could, but he was unprepared for what he saw. "Red Demon," he thought, surprised. How did he know that name? Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bodies of his family and screamed loudly. He began to retreat, his gaze fixed on the perpetrator of his misfortune. At the same moment, the four Argada heard the command and moved slowly. The boy tried to stand as quickly as possible, but nervousness and fear took over. His mind and tired, exhausted body refused to obey. He managed to crawl to a huge oak tree. He leaned back and took a deep breath. He looked back at the monsters: four of them leaped at him simultaneously, fangs bared. He resigned himself to the thought that he would never wake up. With that memory, he fainted.

When the Argadas were two meters away and leaping, an incredible roar erupted, triggered by an explosion of ancient magic swirling in the air. At that precise moment, four evil spawns were simultaneously cut cleanly in half, their remains falling to the ground like nutshells. Immediately afterward, a monstrous figure appeared before the boy, a sword held in both hands and dripping with green ichor. At least three meters tall, it was clad in a black cloak, edged with silver spikes, and black armor covering only its torso. On its exposed arms and forearms was an unfamiliar design, stretching from shoulder to hand. A blue armored section, decorated with intricate patterns, covered its legs. The Red Demon, realizing what had happened, stopped smiling. His expression fell, just like the victims he hunted daily. Disoriented, he didn't know what to do. Suddenly, he noticed something, something no one had seen since time immemorial. A legendary inscription on armor. This caught the demon's attention. He dropped his head in amazement. For the first time in this world, he felt incredible fear and the immense power emanating from this figure. All his spells and abilities seemed useless in that moment. Even a whole horde of red and black demons would be useless. He panicked. He wanted to flee, but he couldn't. Some invisible force prevented him. He struggled in every direction, but to no avail. He tried to use a spell, but after a moment, he realized it was a mistake. A mere moment passed before both his paws and arms shattered into hundreds of pieces, leaving jagged stumps. A roar pierced the air. The giant raised his sword and pointed it at the demon. The air thickened with steam rising from the ground. A powerful magnetic force created a transparent ribbon of magic, which, dispelling the surrounding darkness, flowed, close to the ground, towards the terrified demon. It penetrated the servant of evil. After a few seconds, there were quiet electrical discharges, and where the red figure had been, smoke was already rising from a pile of black ash. Steam billowed into the air, ending in a terrified muzzle. Silence fell, broken only by the soft rustle of the wind.

Argal turned and crouched, jabbing his sword into the ground. He removed his helmet and placed it beside him. He looked at the figure slumped against a massive oak tree. He stared at it for a moment. His long blue-black hair flowed down his back, reaching to his waist. A scar cut his face, running from his left eye to his right cheek. It was a testament to the hard fight he had fought in the past with a truly powerful opponent, because looking at his muscular physique and the aura of strength surrounding him, it was hard to imagine anyone would be willing to fight him.

Another bolt of lightning cracked the sky, its clap echoing across the entire vault. The wind blew harder, stirring Argal's cloak and hair. The moment he rose and put his helmet back on, the man on the ground began to wake up. He tilted his body slightly to the right, then rolled onto his stomach. He slowly opened his eyes. At first, everything was blurry. As if through a fog. But after a moment, his vision became clearer with each passing second.