Drystan’s grip on his hatchet tightened as he watched the approaching werewolf, its fangs bared and sharp claws reflecting the orange glow from the setting sun. The sounds of battle coming from behind him, as the villagers fought off the desperate wolves, filled the air as Drystan closed his eyes and took a deep breath to steady himself. Steeling his resolve, Drystan’s eyes flew open as he began charging at the werewolf, shouting a battle cry as his legs moved quickly under him.
Now just mere feet away from each other, Drystan rolled forward, ducking under the swing of the werewolf’s arm, avoiding the sharp claws as it slashed through the air. Back on his feet, Drystand swung at the werewolf, the hatchet embedding itself into the werewolf’s back. Flinching from the strike, the werewolf turned back, again swiping at Drystan. With just enough time to remove the hatchet, Drystan jumped backwards, his heels digging into the dry soil underneath before dashing back towards the creature, again swinging the hatchet into its thigh.
Like before, while the hatchet dug into the creature’s hide, it was merely a superficial wound. This time, however, the werewolf was quicker to react, the back of its hand connecting against Drystan’s stomach, knocking Drystan back and sprawling onto the ground. The werewolf ran towards Drystan, its rear legs stomping at the ground trying to crush him. Drystan rolled to his left, dodging the blow before scrambling to his feet. Using the hatchet, he parried a swipe from the werewolf’s claw, but the force of the blow knocked the hatchet from his grasp as it flew harmlessly away, landing in the thick grass.
Reaching out, the werewolf grabbed onto Drystan’s neck, choking him as it lifted him up. The werewolf snarled at him as Drystan was now at face level, the stench of decaying flesh overwhelming Drystan as he tried to take in desperate, ragged breaths. As the werewolf leaned forward, ready to take a bite into Drystan, time seemed to stand still as a female voice called out in his mind.
“Is perishing at the hands of this beast worth keeping your anonymity? Rise up, Drystan! I bestowed upon you my blessing, and it’s nigh time for you to use it!”
Gasping once again, Drystan’s right hand glowed blue as he reached towards the werewolf, grasping onto its hand. The werewolf howled in pain as it quickly loosened its grasp, releasing Drystan as he fell back to the ground. Reaching out yet again, Drystan thrust his hand onto the beast’s stomach, ice immediately forming on its fur as the werewolf jumped back, crying out in pain. Using this opportunity, Drystan reached out his left hand, the sword manifesting as he grasped onto its hilt, his body glowing white.
Pointing the sword at the werewolf, Drystan glared at the beast. “You chose the wrong person to become your next meal!” Dashing forward, in the blink of an eye, Drystan had closed the distance between the two, slashing his sword. Despite quickly dodging the strike, the sword was able to cut into the creature’s stomach, blood beginning to drip from its fur onto the ground.
Growling at Drystan, the werewolf charged again, swiping at Drystan’s head, only for his claws to be easily parried, along with another slash to its chest.
It’s not as fast as before…no…that’s not right…I’m…able to keep up with him now!
Drystan smirked as he again dashed towards the werewolf, just barely missing the werewolf as it jumped back again. The beast began panting heavily as it desperately dodged Drystan’s ceaseless assault, not having any chance to counter. After a deep slash to its leg, the werewolf staggered backwards, turning around and beginning to run away. Before Drystan could give chase, a blue blur whizzed past his head, the werewolf immediately screaming in agonizing pain as it crumpled to the ground. Sticking out of the beast’s heel was an arrow whose glow was quickly diminishing.
“Now’s your chance! Slay this monstrous beast!” Shouted a young man as Drystan charged at the creature. Trying to stand up but failing, the werewolf positioned itself to be able to swipe its claws at Drystan as he approached, but both strikes missed as Drystan effortlessly dodged the attacks, swinging his sword down and cutting off the beast’s left claw. As the beast roared in pain, Drystan thrust the blade forward, stabbing into the beast’s chest.
The werewolf gurgled and sputtered before Drystan pulled the sword out. Giving one last hateful glare at Drystan, the light of life left the beast’s eyes as it collapsed onto the ground motionless. After quickly double checking to make sure the werewolf was indeed truly dead, Drystan let out a massive sigh of relief as his muscles relaxed and the sword disappeared, along with the glow around him.
Gasping for air, Drystan sat down on the ground, his muscles already sore from the sudden exertion. As he tried to catch his breath, he could hear the footsteps of the young man as he approached. “Incredible…to think…the goddess had indeed blessed someone else!” He exclaimed as he knelt down next to Drystan, a bow strapped to his back along with a quiver filled with arrows. “Are you unharmed?”
It took several seconds before Drystan nodded. “I’m unharmed…just need…to catch my…breath…”
The man nodded. “Understandable. Those powers drain its user, and it takes years of training before any member of the Eldar’s is truly able to fully harness its capabilities.”
Drustan nodded as he looked at the line of farmers in the distance, what remained of the pack of wolves now dead, before looking over at the man. His hair looked like the hue of copper, and freckles dotted his face. His blue eyes stared at Drystan, concern etched on his face. “You seem…to know…a great deal about…these powers…” Drystan sputtered.
The man chuckled. “I would hope so. I’ve spent my entire life studying the goddess and the blessing she’s bestowed.”
Drystan slowly nodded. “You must be Mathis then…your grandfather…told me about you.”
“Oh? He did?”
Drystan nodded. “Indeed…it would seem that…the goddess has…predestined us to meet.” Standing up, Drystan took a deep breath and stuck out his hand. “I’m Drystan…Drystan Alaric, and as you just saw…”
Mathis grasped his hand and firmly shook it. “I’m Mathis Rook…but…if you’ve been blessed by the goddess just as she blessed the Eldar’s…then I was correct! The entire time, I was correct! The goddess is displeased with the direction the Eldar’s have taken the church and this country!”
Drystan chuckled and nodded. “You are correct…and she’s told me as such.”
“You’ve spoken with the goddess?! She hasn’t spoken to any mortal in hundreds of years…at least any verified reports that is.”
Drystan smirked. “And I think she also just now chastised me for not using my powers until it looked like I was about to be that werewolf’s next meal. At least it sounded like her voice in my head as that thing was about to take a bite.”
“Fascinating…to think that Seraphina has found someone to not only commune with, but also give the blessing that transcends any other she gives…” Putting his hand to his chin, he gave a thoughtful expression as he looked to the side, his brow furrowed. “Such a situation hasn’t been divulged in scripture…but neither has the downfall of the Eldar’s…that can only mean we’re going through events that may one day be immortalized in scripture as well…Seraphina…your servant is not worthy of such a time as this…”
Drystan looked on awkwardly before Mathis opened his eyes and cleared his throat. “Anyways, we should return to my grandfather’s cabin and deliver the good news about the wolves. We can converse more openly there.”
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