Joe was a normal fisher from Ragla, and like every morning he woke up, poured himself some ale from his barrel at home, and drank it on his porch.
Being unhappy with his life, he grumbled about everything—his wife, his kids, his work. His dream was once to be the captain of a big galley out on the sea, battling sea monsters and pirates.
Now? Now he was just a lowly fisher on a small boat, blaming the world for his failure.
First his wife had stopped him from going, and then she had the audacity to refuse living on a ship with him. He thought he could still talk her into it, but then the darn kids happened… two of them, at the same time at that. Now she had lost her beauty as well.
He drank a big gulp of ale thinking of all that.
"To hell with this shit… why does my life have to be so shit?"
Then there was the village chief taking all of his fish and distributing them throughout the village. Almost nothing was left for him.
"Damn village chief, bah! I caught the damn fish, so why should I share it?"
Drinking the whole cup of ale, he poured himself another round and slowly got ready to fish again. Stumbling about, he put on his fishing gear—long insulated boots, jacket, gloves—and prepared a bucket full of fishing lines, bait, a net, and hooks.
All the while he worked, a bottle of ale was filling up under the barrel. One for the road, he would say.
Packing some food and his ale into the rucksack, he went outside and walked toward the gate.
As a guard noticed him approaching, the man frowned and rolled his eyes.
"Hey, Captain Fish-Ale! I can see you grumbling from here! How about you smile for once, you old bastard?"
The other guard laughed, but Joe—already in a foul mood—didn't like that one bit.
"Shut up! And do your job instead of harassing me."
Now the second guard stepped up aggressively.
"What did you say, you old fossil?"
Although he claimed his dream was fighting pirates and sea monsters, Joe was a coward, so instead of talking back, he just hurried his steps and kept his head down, not looking up at the guard.
When Joe passed them, the second guard kicked him in the butt for good measure and snickered.
He trudged down the familiar path toward the river, muttering to himself as his breath fogged the cold morning air.
"I swear, one day I'll kill you all and leave this wretched place…"
His boots crunched through the snow with the same rhythm they always had—but then he slowed.
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
At first, he thought it was just the winter shadows playing tricks on him. But the deeper he walked, the more the world changed around him. The snow under his feet no longer glimmered white. Instead, it had taken on a blue-black tint, as though frostbite itself had spread across the forest floor. What should have been soft powder crunched like thin ice ready to shatter.
He frowned and looked ahead.
The trees that lined the river path—trees he had passed a thousand times—seemed… different. Their bark appeared darkened, almost burned, as if a long shadow had crawled up their trunks and drained the color from them. Branches twisted unnaturally, bowing away from the river as though something downstream frightened them.
A cold shiver crawled up his back.
"What in the…?"
He took another step.
The air grew heavier. Thicker. Each breath tasted metallic and cold, like inhaling smoke without the smell of fire. A faint, oppressive pressure pushed against his chest—not enough to hurt, but enough to warn him.
The world had gone quiet.
No birds.
No rustling animals.
Not even the distant hum of the river.
Just a low, barely perceptible vibration—like the forest was holding its breath.
The river finally came into view, and his stomach dropped.
The water—normally crystal clear and lively—had dulled to a deep, lightless blue, swirling with shadows that had no right to be there. Ripples moved across its surface even though the wind was still, and the mist above it had darkened into a drifting grey veil.
"Spirits above…" he whispered.
He felt watched.
Not by eyes… but by the forest itself.
A surge of dread settled in his gut.
This wasn't natural.
This wasn't weather.
This wasn't a beast.
This was mana—heavy, cold, suffocating mana.
And something was leaking it…
His pulse quickened as he scanned the treeline. He saw nothing, but the weight of the aura tugged his gaze toward the rocky slope nearby… toward the caves.
He swallowed.
"…What the hell is out here?"
Joe immediately remembered the stories his father used to tell him. A similar change would always happen out at sea whenever an undead ghost ship drew near, or when a high-ranking death knight—an undead captain—was close.
Full of fear, he dropped his bucket and gear on the ground and ran back toward the village to inform the chief and guards.
—
Meanwhile, in the sky above the Leonia mountain range, Talmir was closing in on the top cave.
"Phew, I guess she's in a good mood today, seeing that I'm not a pincushion of earth spears yet."
Inside the cave, two golden, cat-like eyes suddenly opened. The stone entrance—adorned with beautiful flowers—slid apart. An arrow pointing inside appeared on the stone tiles just in front of the doorway.
"Great… just great. She's inviting me in… hope I don't get eaten, hah!" Cold sweat ran down his back and a nervous chuckle escaped him as he landed on the platform outside the cave, about to meet the queen and ruler of this mountain range.
Walking down the paved hallway, he noted the beautifully laid mosaics depicting a huge lion-like figure standing atop dragons, wyverns, trolls, and so on.
Talmir kept his mouth shut about the decorations. In this place, the stone walls did have ears, and offending the queen was the last thing he wanted.
At the end of the hallway stood another stone door, again adorned with beautiful flowers made of obsidian, ruby, and labradorite—clearly the queen's taste.
He approached and knocked with the stone handles.
"You may enter," a female voice said.
The door opened immediately.
"Greetings, Your Highness," Talmir said, bowing—an action most would never dare take before such a beast.
"You may look upon me and tell me the reason for your visit."
As he raised his head, he saw the queen in her full glory: a manticore, a mythical beast rivaling dragons. Her face mixed human and lion features; her body was that of a lion, with a scorpion tail and bat-like wings.
She prided herself on her immaculate fur coat, which was always clean and soft. She wore a ruby ring on her ear and obsidian wrappings on her claws—fashion trends she had adopted from humans years ago. No queen would be without her jewelry.
An immense aura radiated from her, one that would have crushed even Talmir, but she restrained it for her guest. Licking her paw, she beckoned him to hurry so she could return to her nap.
Addresing her, Talmir took on a respectfull tone. "Your Majesty, have you perhaps noticed a small boy trotting about the mountains? He has darkness mana and is fairly young. He's my boy."
"A living human with darkness mana?" She perked her ears and stopped cleaning herself in surprise. "Fascinating. That is my first time hearing such a thing in my three hundred years on Caelterra. And he is your cub, you say?"
"Yes. So… have you sensed anything of the sort?"
"No, I have not. At least he was fortunate not to wander into my range. Had I mistaken him for an undead, he would have been erased."
"And you are positive he didn't wander here, Your Majesty?"
The queen frowned, her pupils narrowing like a hunting cat.
"Listen, human. I know everything that happens on this mountain. Do not lecture me in my territory. Now leave, since you have your answer. And perhaps bring that cub of yours to me—so I may inspect him. A human specimen like that sounds truly fascinating."
She released her killing intent for just a brief moment—but for Talmir, that moment felt like an eternity. Like prey before a predator, he could only excuse himself and retreat, tail metaphorically tucked between his legs.
As soon as he stepped out, the door shut itself and the stone arrow on the floor vanished. One last glance back, and he took flight toward Ragla.
"I shouldn't have made that pact with the human king all those years ago… protecting feeble humans doesn't suit me at all." She continued grooming herself. "But at least they leave me in peace, so I suppose it's fine."
While the queen settled in for another nap, Talmir flew back. Knowing Teclos was nowhere near the mountain range, he assumed the boy had hidden himself too well for even him to sense. He trusted the queen's instincts fully.
—
Back in Ragla, the chief closed off the village and prepared an extermination squad. Even though Joe was hated, he wasn't a liar—and hearing about the scale of the contamination, the chief assembled twelve hunters and five guards.
"And you're sure about this, Joe?" the chief asked.
"Yes, chief! I saw it with my own eyes, you have to believe me."
One hunter scoffed. "I bet he saw a dire bat and shat himself… do we really have to do this, chief?"
"Yes. Even if it is a dire bat, we must know. Preparing for the worst is our duty," Chief Thomas said.
The extermination team marched out with grim faces and sharpened blades, boots thudding like war drums. Their breaths fogged the air as they followed Joe's trail.
They expected carnage.
Or corruption.
Or the stench of undeath.
What they found instead was… strange.
The first tendrils of warped mana brushed against them—thin wisps of cold, pale-blue distortion curling around trees and snow. The hunters slowed, weapons raised.
"By the spirits…" one whispered. "The fool wasn't lying."
A hunter knelt and touched the blue-stained ice. No rot. No burn. No dead mana. Just… cold.
"This isn't undead corruption," the chief muttered. "It's off… but it's not killing the land."
"It's not spreading either," a guard noted. "It's all coming from one point."
"That cave up ahead," Thomas said. "Move." He ordered.
The aura stabilized into a faint pulse, like something sleeping. Or meditating.
—
Inside the cave, Teclos exhaled slowly. Hours of meditating in, he finnaly opened his eyes. Confused he looked around at his suroundings, it seemed that his aura was seeping out and the forest reacted. He was happy as this was proof his mana grew stronger.
He was about to resume when footsteps echoed outside.
Multiple. Heavy. Armed.
Teclos froze.
His thought about the discrimination of peopple to the unknown seeped in to his mind.
Then panic set in.
He extinguished his mana instantly, the pressure dissolving like mist. Heart pounding, he squeezed into a narrow crevice only a child could fit into.
"Please don't see me… please…"
The extermination team entered moments later, weapons raised.
The cave looked empty.
"Search it," the chief ordered.
Mana residue flickered weakly along the walls.
"Definitely not undead," a hunter muttered. "There is no malice."
"It still feels wrong," another added. "Feels… weak."
A young hunter crouched near Teclos's hiding place.
"Chief. Something's—"
Teclos flinched, bumped his elbow, and let out the tiniest hiss.
Every head turned.
"Come out!" the hunter barked, stabbing his spear into the crevice.
Teclos whimpered and crawled out, trembling.
"…It's a kid," someone said.
"A human kid," another added. "What the hell is he doing here?"
Chief Thomas knelt. "Boy… explain. What's with this mana?"
Before Teclos could speak, a wind gust swept through the cave.
A figure descended from outside.
"Talmir!" the chief exclaimed.
He noticed the change in the enviroment and hurried here.
The hunters relaxed at once.
Talmir stepped forward. "Stand down. The boy isn't a threat."
"He's the source," Thomas replied worried.
"Yes. He was training. His mana is rare and strange. I failed to notice him wander off, but he is under my supervision, you have my word."
That was enough.
Everyone knew about Talmir, his reputation and accepted it.
Except Joe—panting behind them like a dog.
When they reached the village, the mocking started immediately.
"Told you it wasn't undead, Joe."
"You piss yourself again old fart?"
"Should've known it was just a kid's magic—coward."
Joe clenched his teeth, hands shaking.
"Say it again," he warned quietly.
"Oh look, the drunk is gonna cry—"
Something snapped.
Joe drew his gutting knife and lunged with a scream. The blade plunged into the guard's throat before anyone understood what was happening.
Blood sprayed across the snow.
Chaos.
"Grab him!"
"Drop the knife!"
Two guards tackled him. Another kicked the blade away. Joe thrashed, screaming profanities, until a fist silenced him.
Chief Thomas stared at the corpse, then at Joe.
"…Throw him into the guildhall cell," he said coldly. "We deal with him after sundown."
Joe glared at every face that looked down on him.
"Of course… of course this is how it ends," he snarled.
"I warn you people, I save your damned hides, and you throw me in a cage."
He gave a humorless laugh.
"This rotten village deserves every curse it gets."
He was dragged away as villagers whispered in horror.
Teclos watched from behind Talmir's cloak, eyes wide—not with fear of Joe, but fear of the world around him.
And the world's fear of him.