The Sinful Young Master

The drake's heavy feet pounded the earth rhythmically as it carried Jolthar through the sprawling wilderness, its wings tucked tightly against its flanks.

It was a powerful beast, its muscular frame rippling with every stride, but even the mightiest creatures required rest.

After six hours of relentless riding, Jolthar felt the drake's pace falter ever so slightly. He understood immediately—it was time to stop.

They had entered the Alariden Woods, a dense and ancient forest where the trees grew so close together that their gnarled branches intertwined above, creating a canopy that blocked out most of the light. The air was cool and damp, carrying the earthy scent of moss and wet leaves. It was one of the largest and widest forests on the continent.

Jolthar guided the drake to a clearing, dismounted, and patted its scaled neck.

"You've done well," he murmured, his voice low and calm. The drake let out a soft rumble in response, its large eyes glinting in the faint light that seeped through the canopy.

Jolthar knew the beast needed nourishment and rest.

Without delay, he summoned his sword, Knashii, from his ring and ventured into the woods. His sharp senses quickly picked up the trail of a wild boar, and with a swift, precise strike, he brought it down.

Dragging the carcass back to the clearing, he divided the spoils—setting aside the bulk of the meat for the drake and keeping enough for himself. The drake eagerly devoured its portion, its jaws snapping powerfully as it tore through the flesh.

He used his sword for cutting the meat as he didn't bring in any knife. He left with his only clothes on his body at that time.

Jolthar set to work preparing his meal. He gathered dry wood and struck flint to ignite a fire, its warm glow pushing back the shadows of the forest. The smell of roasting meat soon filled the air, and Jolthar sat cross-legged before the fire, staring into the flickering flames. He allowed himself a rare moment of relaxation, the crackling fire and the rhythmic chewing of the drake his only companions.

Suddenly, an unnatural stillness descended upon the clearing. The drake lifted its head abruptly, its eyes narrowing, and a low growl rumbled from deep within its throat.

Jolthar's instincts flared, and he reached for his sword, but before his hand could grasp the hilt, a dark mist began to form around him.

The mist was unlike anything he had ever seen—dense, pitch-black, and swirling like foam caught in an eternal storm. It began to coalesce, shifting and writhing until it took shape.

And within no time, before him stood a monstrous figure, a nightmare given form. It was a towering, humanoid beast with thick, spiked skin that gleamed like obsidian in the firelight. Its legs were grotesquely long and powerful, its horns curling upward like jagged spears. Red eyes burned in its shadowy face, piercing through Jolthar with an intensity that froze him to his core.

It was unlike anything he had seen before. Everything about that creature screamed a terrified feeling inside Jolthar, making him unable to move even a muscle.

Jolthar's body betrayed him. His limbs felt like lead, his breath caught in his throat. Fear overwhelmed him, not the kind of fear that spurs action but the kind that roots you in place, helpless.

Even the power of the gods paled in comparison to the suffocating aura emanating from this creature. It was completely different, extremely destructive, and oppressive in nature.

Its gaze locked onto Jolthar, and for a moment, it was as though time itself had stopped.

The beast took a step forward, and its breath came in a torrential gust, extinguishing the fire in an instant.

The sudden darkness was oppressive, the only light coming from the faint glow of its eyes. Another step, and the ground seemed to tremble beneath its weight. It exhaled again, and Jolthar felt the wind buffet against his skin, cold and unrelenting. He didn't know what was happening; it all happened so suddenly; his mind was running with the thoughts of the beast in front of him. It was in no way an ordinary creature.

Jolthar felt like he would die any minute, not just die, but he would be consumed by the darkness of his whole existence.

When it was only a few steps away, the air shifted again.

A new light began to pierce the darkness, soft and silvery-peach in hue. It started as a faint glow but quickly grew, pushing back the oppressive shadows. The light coalesced into a figure, a stark contrast to the monstrous beast.

The figure was a woman, but not entirely human. Her form was divine and otherworldly, her limbs covered in sleek fur that shimmered like gold in the soft light. Her hands ended in sharp claws, and her legs were powerful and feline, reminiscent of a lioness. Her face, however, was a masterpiece of divine beauty, with sharp, noble features and eyes that gleamed with wisdom and strength.

An Ayiona, a mythical being born of both beast and deity, stood between Jolthar and the nightmarish creature. She radiated an aura of calm yet immense power, her presence commanding the attention of both Jolthar and the beast. The drake, which had cowered moments ago, now lifted its head, emboldened by her light.

As soon as the Ayiona appeared, the beast faltered in its steps. The blinding, silvery-peach light radiating from her made it reel back, its massive form trembling. The contrast between the divine glow and its own dark aura seemed to weaken it, forcing the creature to shield its red eyes with one massive, clawed hand.

It growled deeply, its voice reverberating through the forest like a thunderclap laced with a sinister bass.

"He is ours," it declared, its voice a chilling mix of authority and malice. "No one can stop us from claiming him."

The woman stood her ground, her eyes unyielding as she locked her gaze on the beast. "Not while I am here," she replied, her voice calm yet resonating with an undeniable power. The tension between them was tangible, the air thick and electrified. It was as though the entire forest held its breath, caught between the forces of light and darkness.

In an instant, their powers clashed—a burst of radiant light meeting a torrent of shadow. The impact was cataclysmic, the sheer force whipping through the surroundings like a storm. Trees swayed violently, and the ground beneath Jolthar's feet trembled.

For a fleeting moment, the night seemed to dissolve into an ethereal battle, but as quickly as it began, it was over. The beast let out a guttural snarl before it dissolved into the darkness, vanishing as though it had never been there.

Jolthar staggered back, his chest heaving. Sweat beaded on his brow, and he realized that he had been holding his breath the entire time. The oppressive weight of the beast's presence was gone, replaced by a strange stillness. He glanced up at the woman, her divine glow now gentle and warm.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice carrying a softness that contrasted with the strength she had just displayed.

Jolthar nodded, though his body still trembled faintly. He was acutely aware of how close he had come to death. If she hadn't appeared when she did, he would have been utterly powerless against the creature. "If you hadn't shown up…" he muttered, his voice trailing off.

The woman's expression turned grim. "That was a creature of vile origin," she said. "The most sinister of beings, born from darkness itself. It wasn't supposed to come here—I didn't anticipate their arrival." Her gaze sharpened as she turned back to Jolthar.

"You need to be careful, Jolthar."

His heart skipped a beat. "How do you know my name?" he asked, his voice tinged with confusion and suspicion.

"I know much about you," she replied, her tone steady. "You are the Ascendant. Goddess Qalena has kept me in the loop."

At the mention of Qalena, Jolthar's thoughts spiralled. "You know her?" he asked, his voice rising slightly in disbelief.

"Yes," she said simply. "And from this moment forward, I will be staying with you."

Jolthar exhaled sharply, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. His mind raced, the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on him. It felt as though the world had suddenly turned its gaze on him, and the pressure was suffocating. The creature's terrifying words echoed in his mind: He is ours.

He looked up at the woman, her form still bathed in a faint glow. "What exactly is going on here?" he asked, his voice heavy with frustration and exhaustion.

She regarded him with a mix of empathy and determination. "You are more important than you realize, Jolthar. Forces beyond this realm are moving now, and you are at the centre of it all. There's much to explain, but for now, understand this: they will come for you, and I will ensure they fail."

Jolthar closed his eyes briefly, trying to absorb her words.