Panic Drives Adventure
A memory flooded back. He had to hurry! He just remembered that his patch of mushrooms, the ones he had carefully tended to over the past weeks, should be ready today. The thought of them sent a rush of excitement through him.
Without thinking, he grabbed his green tunic and brown pants, quickly throwing them on. In fluid movements he donned his socks and worn leather boots. He slung his sheepskin satchel over his shoulder and darted toward the door.
He took the stairs two at a time, the sound of his feet thudding heavily against the old stone. The manor seemed to hum with life. The scent of aged wood and the faint warmth of a fire still lingered from the hearth below.
The staircase opened up to the grand living room, where Issac sat at a massive workbench carved from a single slab of dark oak.
The room was adorned with intricate tapestries and shields mounted along the stone walls.
Above the hearth, an elaborate wooden mantle bore an inscription in an ancient tongue, which none but Issac could truly decipher. A fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering light across the room.
Issac, tall and sturdy, sat in his worn leather apron, his focus on a freshly repaired bow.
The wood gleamed in the light, a new string tightly wound into place. Raziel’s excitement faltered as he looked at his father, who now glanced up with a knowing look.
“Raziel,” Issac called, his voice calm but firm. “Where are you going, son?”
Raziel grinned, adjusting his satchel. “I’m going to get my mushrooms for dinner, Dad.”
Issac’s silver eyes softened for a moment, but his gaze sharpened as he studied his son. “Are you feeling better? You had a bit of a bad dream last night.”
Raziel rubbed his temple, the ache still lingering. “I… I think so, Father. I don’t remember much of the dream.” His voice trailed off as he felt the pressure behind his eyes, dull but persistent.
A strange heaviness clung to him. Not exhaustion, but a sensation as though he’d woken from a memory he couldn’t grasp. Shapes, colors, and voices flickered just out of reach. He had the sense he’d lived something important, something terrible. But it slipped through his fingers like water.
Issac’s expression shifted subtly. The glimmer in his silver eyes became unreadable, though a shadow of concern lingered. “Be careful, boy. Remember what I said about badgers. They love your morels.”
Raziel forced a smile and nodded. “I know, I know, Dad. I’ll be fine. The patch is close to the garden, so it won’t take long.”
Issac seemed to relax, though his gaze still lingered longer than usual. “Alright, Raziel. When you get back, I’ll help you clean them. They’ll pair nicely with the chicken we butchered a few days ago.”
Raziel walked to the heavy oak door. His hand rested on the wood, tracing the carvings of dragons and sorcerers. They seemed more vivid than usual. Familiar in a way that made his skin crawl.
He was about to step outside when Issac’s voice stopped him.
“Wait. Are you forgetting something?” Issac chuckled, his hand resting on the polished bow beside him.
Raziel turned back, blinking. “No?” he said, trying to feign innocence.
Issac laughed softly, shaking his head. “I think you are. Come get your bow. I’ve fixed it for you. I have no idea how you keep ‘accidentally’ breaking it. I’m starting to think you don’t like it.”
Raziel sighed, his shoulders slumping. “It’s not that I don’t like it, Dad. It’s a beautiful weapon. I just… I’m not good with it.”
Issac handed him the bow. The wood was warm to the touch, the runes along the grip pulsing faintly. Another jolt of something unspoken twisted in Raziel’s stomach. The ache in his temple flared again.
He needed to be fast. He knew the forest creatures had a knack for finding his mushrooms, and if he wasn’t quick, they would vanish before he reached the patch.
But something about today felt different. Like the world was watching him. Like something beneath the surface waited to be remembered.
The forest greeted him like an old friend, its towering trees casting long shadows over the underbrush. The air was thick with the scent of wet earth and the lingering freshness of the morning dew.
Raziel’s steps were light, but quick as he maneuvered through the dense woods. He leapt over a fallen log, the last casualty of a heavy rainstorm that had passed through the night before. The log, slick with moisture, made for a precarious obstacle, but Raziel’s movements were fluid and practiced, his feet never missing a beat.
As he neared his favorite spot, his excitement grew, but the moment he arrived, his heart sank. His patch of morels, his pride and joy, was empty. Every single mushroom was gone. The rich, earthy smell of them, the ones he had tended to with such care, was no longer in the air.
Instead, there was only the unsettling emptiness of a place once filled with his hard-earned harvest. His frown deepened, and the frustration from earlier bubbled up once again, this time with nowhere to go.
He stood still for a moment, the quiet of the forest pressing in around him, his mind racing as he tried to make sense of it.
The creatures had been quicker than he thought. That was the logical answer. But something tugged at the edge of his thoughts, a strange unease that had nothing to do with forest animals. A feeling. A whisper in the back of his mind. Why did it feel like he had harvested the mushrooms himself?
The thought disturbed him, but it vanished before he could grasp it.
In frustration and disappointment, he sat on a tree stump. A soft giggle drew his attention to the right. A fairy wisp stared right at him. She motioned her small arms for him to come. She couldn’t have been taller than about five inches. Her wings beat like a hummingbird.
“There is another patch over here. I will take you to them.” Her voice held a strange, but familiar power drawing him to follow.
He picked up his basket and stood up. Slow steps led him toward the fairy. When he got close enough to almost touch her, she flew away. Slow and deliberate, leading him deep into the forest.
A part of the forest he knew wasn’t allowed in. But the fairy’s allure almost mesmerized him. He felt compelled to follow.
The fairy fluttered delicately over the fresh patch of morels, its wings shimmering like gossamer in the dappled sunlight filtering through the dense canopy above.
A gentle breeze rustled the leaves of ancient oaks, their gnarled branches twisting skyward as though reaching for the heavens.
Moss-covered rocks lay scattered across the forest floor, their dark green surfaces soft and cool beneath the feet. The air smelled of damp earth and pine, mingling with the faint scent of wildflowers that peeked through the underbrush.
Raziel squealed with delight, his laughter blending with the sweet songs of hidden birds and the distant rustling of woodland creatures.
His eyes sparkled as he knelt down, his hands gently cupping the delicate mushrooms that dotted the ground in clusters, their honey-colored caps standing out against the rich, loamy soil.
The forest seemed to hold its breath as he carefully placed each morel into his wicker basket. Raziel’s hands revealed a sense of reverence in his every motion, as though he were gathering treasures rather than mere fungi.
He dropped the mushroom he was picking when he heard a twig snap. He now noticed that the usual cacophony of the glade, filled with cicadas’ buzzing and birds’ songs, was replaced by an eerie stillness.
Raziel paused, his senses on high alert. He scanned the clearing. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled. His head snapped to the right at the sound of another breaking twig. Crows took flight, their caws echoing, breaking the silence.
His breath caught in his throat. Goosebumps rose on his skin as every muscle in his body tensed. The footsteps came closer. His heartbeat thumped loudly in his ears.
Letting out the breath he was holding, he swiftly took the bow from his back and an arrow from his quiver. He nocked it and aimed in the direction of the sound
A cougar leapt out of the underbrush; its eyes locked onto him.
“Shit!” Raziel let the arrow fly. It flew straight but missed its target, embedding itself in a tree just past the beast. He dropped his bow and the basket of mushrooms. The young boy took off at a dead run, his feet pounding the forest floor.
He knew this forest like the back of his hand. Its paths, the hidden clearings, the ancient trees, all were imprinted in his memory. Yet panic, a blinding and irrational force, surged through him. It clouded his thoughts and instincts.
He bolted through the dense undergrowth, branches whipped at his face. Roots and stones threatened to trip him with every step. The branches of each tree reached out like boney skeletal fingers.
In his frantic state, he didn’t realize he was veering off his usual routes. The familiar landmarks became a blur as he sprinted through the forest, driven by a primal urge to escape.
The sounds of the forest seemed to amplify his heartbeat that echoed in his ears like a drum. He pushed harder, unaware that his path was leading him towards the one place he had always avoided. The lake, the forbidden lake.
The trees thinned, giving way to a clearing bathed in an eerie light. He skidded to a halt at the edge of the cliff. He looked down, it was a steep rock face. He eyed the lake. It stretched out, its surface unnaturally still. The darkening sky above cast shadows upon its surface.
His eyes widened as he realized his mistake, the stories and warnings flooded into his mind. The tales his father told him of spirits that roamed the water’s edge. Of those who ventured too close never returning. The lake offered the only escape from the cougar. He could feel the hum of ancient magic. Raziel’s fear only rose.
He had to turn back, to find his way out of this cursed place. The young boy took a hesitant step toward where he had come from, but the cougar now stood before him. It snarled. The panic, which had driven him here, now held him captive. Paralyzed with fear.
He took a step back, but his foot was on the edge of the cliff. Raziel’s chest was heaving with exhaustion. His breath was short, ragged, gasping for air. He looked over the cliff and back at the beast.
The beast leaped at him. Its claws shining in the light that filtered through the clouds. He had no choice.
“Fuck!” He swore as he turned and jumped. The ancient magic ripped through his soul as his body dropped the fifty-foot descent into the water below. The predator failed to halt its momentum and plummeted into the lake with him.
The icy water knocked the breath out of him, and Raziel lost consciousness. The cold, enchanted water whispered his name.
“Raziel… Raziel…” He sank deeper and deeper into the crystal-clear lake. His mind unresponsive, he only sunk further into the depths of the water.
“RAZIEL!” His eyes snapped open, and he gasped, drawing water into his lungs. To his surprise, he wasn’t drowning.
“Raziel, you must come, your people need you.”
He looked around for the source of the voice but saw nothing—just some small rainbow trout floating by.
As he began to swim, Raziel felt an inexplicable pull guiding him deeper into the abyss. He ventured further down, taking slow, deliberate breaths.
As he descended, the water around him shimmered with an ethereal glow. Strange, bio-luminescent plants swayed gently in the currents, their light casting eerie, dancing shadows.
A school of Luminara fish swam past him, their scales glowing like stars, illuminating the depths. Raziel couldn’t help but pause and marvel at them. He had only ever seen these magnificent creatures in his books.
He had studied them with his father, and they were among his favorite fish. As he watched in awe, something brushed against his face.
It was the wing of a Seraphi, a majestic sea serpent with iridescent scales and wings that shimmered like a peacock’s feathers. The creature glided gracefully through the water, its deep, wise eyes meeting Raziel’s for a brief moment before it disappeared into the depths.
His curiosity grew when he encountered a Nereid, a water nymph with flowing hair made of seaweed and eyes that sparkled like sapphires. She smiled at him, “Come with me.”
Raziel paused, his heart pounding. “How do I know you won’t kill me?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly.
Her laughter echoed through the water like a gentle melody. She simply gestured for him to follow. Despite his hesitation, her presence felt almost familiar, comforting. She led him to an underwater opening. A hole in the rock face.
“She pointed through the cave. Follow this to go home,” she said softly. The cave felt like a gateway to another world, its entrance partially hidden by swaying, glowing seaweed. She waved goodbye before swimming back the way they had come.
Raziel watched her leave. He turned back to the hole and decided to proceed. The pull to travel deeper only grew stronger.
With caution he entered the cavern. A strange pull of gravity forced him to walk, not swim. The cave floor was covered in fine silt that swirled gently with each step he took. Strange, ethereal light seemed to emanate from the walls, revealing the intricate beauty of the underwater realm.
As he moved deeper inside. It formed a vaulted space adorned with bioluminescent algae that cast an eerie yet enchanting glow. The celling filled with holes, smaller caves that diverged from the main, offering certain death.
Schools of tiny, iridescent fish darted around him, their movement adding to the surreal beauty of the place.
As he ventured further, the path narrowed into a tunnel illuminated by clusters of glowing, floating underwater fungi. Their soft light guiding him forward. The water seemed to condense and coalesce with a sense of ancient magic and secrets waiting to be uncovered.
He came to a cliff face. He stopped and looked down. The drop seemed to extend deeper than he could see. He lifted his eyes, gazing level with where he stood, he gasped.
A submerged city glimmered in the dark water. The draw to enter the city exceeded any caution he felt. He leapt off the cliff and began to swim towards the beautiful structures. The architecture was unlike anything he had ever seen, with buildings made of coral and adorned with pearls and precious stones.
Around him, bioluminescent flora pulsed with an ethereal glow. It illuminated the swirling currents. The city seemed to be grown not built. The coral reached and arched into great gateways and streets.
A city from another realm. The glean of otherworldly luminescence danced across the pearls that were larger than anything he had ever seen. Precious stones, vibrant and shimmering, clearly embedded in the coral to enhance its beauty.
Raziel saw a young elf about his age. He smiled softly and swam over to him. When his feet touched the city street he felt a strange connection. He could walk as he did on land.
“Interesting.” He stared at his feet.
The young boy came over and laughed. “You are not from around here, are you?”
“No. I was raised on the surface.” Raziel eyed the boy.
“That is ok, but I am not sure you should stay here. They do not like outsiders very well.”
“I don’t know, I felt drawn here, I can’t explain it. I can’t leave until I figure out who was calling my name.”
“Fair enough.”
“Eldarian, why are you talking to outsiders? You know that is against the rules!”
The young elf’s eyes instantly dropped to the floor. “I am sorry.”
Raziel’s anger rose, he turned to the two approaching elves, “You do not need to be so mean.”
“Ha! We can be however we want to be, our fathers are high nobles.”
“I don’t care what your heritage is. It isn’t nice. No one deserves to be treated so rudely.” Raziel crosses his arms.
“What are you going to do about it, outsider?”
In his frustration, Raziel, took an innate magic stance. His anger swelled around him, and the enchanted lake flowed in sync with an ancient buzz.
“Look Asgar his is going to pretend to be big.” The two boys laughed and jeered at Raziel which only made him angry.
Raziel projected his rage against the boys wearing black and gold water suits. The water began to swirl around him and the currents shifted.
The boys looked at each other and fear crossed their faces. “How can he command the water?”
No one had time to respond before the enchanted lake obeyed and unleashed a torrent of small vortexes that forced the boys flying through the water slamming them into the side of a small cottage.
Raziel looked at his hands in shock. The boy he saved hid behind him as two angry adult aquatics walked toward them. “Guards, Intruder.”
He stood protectively in front of the trembling boy. His heart pounding rapidly against his ribs. The two adult aquatic elves approached. Their faces, grim. They were larger than Raziel. Their movements fluid and swift in the water. Their slick suits, dark and gleaming, were black and gold. The colors of royal affiliations.
One of them speaks, his voice a low growl that resonates through the water, “Intruder! You interfered with a matter that does not concern you. You will come with us.”
Raziel doesn’t flinch. He meets their gaze, his own eyes blazing with fierce determination. He knows he’s outmatched in terms of numbers and physical strength. Something within him, a protective instinct ignited by his fear.
“You shouldn’t allow bulling to anyone it isn’t nice.” The water around him begins to shimmer, the currents shifting subtly, responding to his will.
A low hum, almost imperceptible, fills the water. The two guards exchanged a look, a flicker of uncertainty crossing their faces. They expected a meek surrender. Instead, they faced defiance.
The boy behind him whimpers softly, his grip on Raziel’s arm tightening.
The adults feeling the magic in the water shift, advance slowly. “Boy, let’s just talk about this. Let us go speak to the King.”
Raziel does not respond, instead he unleashes the magic simmering within him. It’s not a carefully crafted spell, but a raw, untamed burst of energy channeled through his innate connection to the water. The shimmering around him intensifies, coalescing into swirling vortexes of energy.
He doesn’t aim for a precise strike; instead, he unleashes a chaotic torrent of water, a furious maelstrom that erupts from his hands.
The power behind his magic was raw and unchecked. The currents created by the swirling vortexes forced the two adults through the water, slamming them against the nearby building.
The boy, initially terrified, watches in awe as Raziel’s power manifests. His eyes widen, reflecting the swirling chaos of the water. Raziel looked at his hands in confusion. He does not understand how he just did that.
The pause in his focus causes the water to swirl around Raziel. He became disoriented in his own power. He was confused as to where it could have come from. He has never wielded magic before. He became dazed by the magical water flowing around him.
The two adults recovered from the assault. He stood and growled in frustration for one of the adults to another to alert the King’s guard.
Raziel still in a profound shock did not notice the armed guards that surrounded him. There is no warning, no attempt at negotiation. The attack is swift and brutal, a carefully choreographed assault.
Raziel tried to defend himself, but he is overwhelmed. The guards’ magic is far more refined, far more powerful than his raw, untamed abilities. Their spells are focused, precise, and coordinated, weaving a complex net of magical energy that traps him and the boy.
The boy screams, a muffled sound swallowed by the relentless pressure of the water. Raziel feels a searing pain as a powerful spell strikes him, momentarily blinding him and leaving him breathless.
The last thing he feels is the crushing weight of the water, the world fading black as the guards’ magic overpowers him completely.
He loses consciousness, the boy falling limp in his arms. The guards’ practiced magic had overwhelming force and precision, leaving both Raziel and the young aquatic elf unconscious within the churning sea.
The last sound he registers is the muffled roar of the ocean as darkness completely swallows him.