Lord Leora sat on his horse at the edge of the Kel’Veldar Woods, frowning as he stared into its darkness.

  The forest was ancient. Its massive trees twisted and grew into one another, creating shapes that looked like beasts locked in eternal combat. Deep within its heart lay the border between the three Kingdoms—Lunedale, Arioria, and Vanura—a border nobody marked nor maintained.

  A nervous buzz settled in his stomach. Ever since he had been tasked with secretly looking into the origins of the Dragons by Prince Hector, he had made sure to pay close attention to every strange rumor reported to him. One such rumor was about a Dragon living within these woods.

  Upon hearing the rumor, Lord Leora traveled for over a week, arriving at a small village near the forest—a village whose inhabitants never expected to be visited by nobility, let alone a Great Lord. After a mix of excitement, fear, and caution, the villagers welcomed him, doing their best to assist without becoming too involved.

  According to the local village chief—an old man who trembled at every step—the forest seemed to come alive at night, its depths glowing with strange, intoxicating lights that lured innocent people into its heart.

  When Lord Leora had first heard of these accounts, he had dismissed them as drunken tales from fools who were lost in the dark. But he changed his mind when one of the missing villagers was later found, babbling incoherently about seeing a dragon’s footprint.

  Swatting at a cloud of small flying insects that appeared to be following him, he grunted, feeling the warm sun on his back.

  Once the sun goes down, we’ll enter the woods, he thought to himself. That should be in less than an hour—enough time for everyone to get ready.

  Lost in thought, he almost missed the sounds of hoof beats behind him.

  “Father! Uncle Conrad and our soldiers are here.”

  Turning, he saw his son, Karl, riding up to him, his panting horse snorting as it slowed down.

  Karl was the spitting image of Lord Leora’s late father—tall, broad-shouldered, and strong. He did not have defined muscles, but everyone could tell he had the strength of three men. His sharp face was framed by dark shoulder-length hair that gave him a look most people found intimidating. At times, when Lord Leora caught a glimpse of him from the corner of his eye, it felt as if his father were alive again.

  Nodding at his son, he grunted and pulled the reins of his horse, turning it in the direction his son had come from.

  “Did you find out anything at the farmer’s house?” he asked, looking at his son’s face. He had sent his son to check on the villager who had claimed to have seen the dragon’s footprint.

  “The man is completely mad, all he does is speak in gibberish, occasionally screaming incoherently,” Karl replied, keeping up with him. “But the rumors are true. Out of all the coherent words he screams “Dragon’s footprint” is clear. Father, do you actually believe he found a dragon’s footprint?”

  “I don't know.”

  Feeling uncertain of the situation, Lord Leora scratched his beard. If it were not for Prince Hector, he would never have looked into rumors like this. He was a man of logic, never believing in children's tales.

  Reaching the small hill where his soldiers and brother were waiting, he cleared his throat.

  “Conrad!”

  “Brother!”

  Conrad was a few years younger than him, though his short black hair was already turning gray. On his face, he wore a thick beard that looked more white than either gray or black, kept trim and neat in the military fashion. As someone who could draw Aether, he would maintain this appearance for most of his life.

  “Did you get the supplies necessary to enter the forest?” Lord Leora asked, swinging his leg over his horse and jumping off. “We will be in there for a couple of days.”

  “We did, but the quality is not that good. Most people have already closed shop and locked their doors. We had to buy food from a farmhouse a little distance from town. Nobody is leaving their house,” his brother answered, gesturing to a small cart filled with sacks of flour.

  “What? Why?” Lord Leora asked, handing the reins of his horse to a soldier and walking up to his brother.

  “The villagers are all scared of the ghosts in the forest. At the first sign of the sun setting, they go home and lock their doors. They never go into the forest at night,” Conrad said, tossing over a water-skin.

  Shaking his head in puzzlement, Lord Leora caught the water-skin and took a sip. Frowning at the lukewarm water, he motioned to his soldiers. “Everyone, saddle up.”

  Tossing the water-skin back to his brother, he climbed back on his horse. “Everyone, double-check your gear!” he yelled. “We won’t be coming out of the forest for a couple of days. If you’re missing something, you won’t get it till we come out.”

  Seeing his soldiers nod at him, he retraced his steps back to the edge of the forest before going in.

  The interior of the forest was colder than he had expected, the warm evening sun cut off by the thick mesh of leaves overhead. As the party carefully moved deeper into its depths, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck slowly stand up. Something was causing him to feel on edge. Seeing a rock entwined in the roots of a tree, he stopped. He had seen that rock before!

  “How long have we been in these woods?” he asked, turning to his brother. He could not remember when they had entered. “How far have we traveled?”

  Adjusting himself on his saddle, Conrad looked around, his gaze sweeping his surroundings. “I don’t know,” he finally uttered. “Ever since we entered the forest, I seemed to have lost all sense of time or distance.”

  “Earth Mother, give me guidance,” Lord Leora muttered, feeling his stomach drop. This was not looking good. Raising his voice, he called out to his soldiers. “Does anyone remember when we entered the woods?”

  Hearing the confused and concerned replies of “No” and “Not me,” he suddenly realized the truth.

  “We’ve been traveling in circles!”

  “Traveling in circles?” echoed Karl, looking in the direction his father was staring.

  “How is that possible?”

  “Entrapment Magic!” Conrad gasped, causing the rest of the soldiers to look around in anxiety.

  “Entrapment Magic? What is that?” Karl asked, his head turning back and forth.

  “Those who practice dark magic are said to be able to confuse the senses using the very land.” Lord Leora explained, reaching for his sword and drawing it. “It’s been said that hundreds of years ago, when we were at war with the Occultists, they would use it to trick our people into fighting each other.”

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  Hearing the fearful whispers of his soldiers, he started to slowly draw Aether into himself, the raging torrent of the awesome power calming his mind.

  “Everyone, stay on guard!” he shouted, his power-infused voice snapping the soldiers’ attention to him. As one, the soldiers of Leora drew their weapons, fear vanishing from their faces, their faith in their Lord absolute.

  “Form a circle!” Conrad commanded.

  “Sir!” the soldiers yelled, their bodies moving reflexively.

  Quickly, the soldiers arranged their horses in a circle, making sure that no one had their backs exposed.

  Keeping his senses sharp, Lord Leora concentrated on his senses, the unnatural silence of the forest deafening to him.

  “Father! There’s fog!” Karl shouted, voice wavering slightly.

  Hearing his son's voice, Lord Leora turned to see a wall of dense fog rolling towards them, so thick it obstructed everything beyond it.

  “Stay in formation! Move as one! We are retreating!” he yelled, positioning himself between his soldiers and the fog.

  As the mass of gray swept over them in a rush, Lord Leora heard footsteps coming from the direction the fog came from, his ears barely picking up the light steps.

  “Who goes there!” he demanded, his weapon held tightly in his hand.

  “You’re fearless to come here.” A man covered all in black materialized out of the fog, a hood obscuring his face. As his voice bounced off the trees, the horses started to scream, a nightmarish sound of fear and panic.

  “Who are you?” Karl shouted, his knuckles white as he worked to get his horse back under control.

  Ignoring the question, the man in black continued. “This is a sacred place—one you cannot enter and leave as you please. You shouldn't have come here. By doing so, you’ve forfeited your right to live.”

  As he finished talking, his hands caught on fire, the blinding light dancing around his hands like a living being.

  “Occultist!”

  Shouts of alarm came from the soldiers, their terrified voices causing the horses to rear up in fear. If not for their training, the horses would have bolted.

  Stretching his arms out, the man in black took a deep breath before shouting, his voice echoing around.

  “DIE!”

  With a roar, the bright fire dancing around his hands suddenly lashed out like a hungry beast, rushing at the grouped soldiers. The terrifying burst of power sent several men tumbling from their saddles in shock.

  Instantly drawing as much power as he could, Lord Leora gripped his sword, the mighty weapon almost too light for his enhanced body.

  Swinging his blade at the incoming ball of fire, he felt a flash of intense heat as his sword cut the attack in half.

  Leaping off his horse, he rolled as he hit the ground, his hot sword held in front of him.

  “DIE!” the Occultist screamed again, shooting another ball of fire at a soldier.

  Watching helplessly as the ball of fire slammed into the poor soldier, Lord Leora kept his cool, the scream of the soldier causing him to grip his sword tightly.

  “Take cover!” Conrad screamed from somewhere behind him.

  Hearing Conrad take command of the situation, Lord Leora focused his full concentration on the Occultist. His brother would keep the rest of his soldiers safe.

  Rotating the Aether to his muscles, he felt his body begin to tremble, his muscles straining with tension. Stepping into the Stance of Speed, he rushed at the Occultist—Form One of the Stance of Speed: Lion’s Surge.

  Closing the distance between them in the blink of an eye, he raised his sword, Form Two: Lightning’s Claw.

  Sword blurring, Lord Leora struck twice, his first slash splitting the raised hand of the Occultist, the fire forming from his hand exploding. The second slash bisected the startled man, the attack so fast that he didn’t even have time to scream.

  Before Lord Leora had the chance to recover from what he had done, he heard a second voice coming from behind his soldiers.

  “HAILSTORM!”

  Body moving on pure instinct, he dove to his side, rolling and turning at the same time.

  Behind his soldiers stood a second man wearing all white, arms raised in the air, blood dripping from his palms. As the second man’s blood hit the ground, shards of razor-sharp ice fell from the sky, a crystalline storm of death.

  Deflecting a shard of ice, Lord Leora shouted in alarm as he saw his soldiers fall to the ground, spears of ice piercing through their armor.

  The unnatural fog still obscured the surroundings as the deadly ice storm continued to hammer down on them, the terrified cries of the soldiers and horses rising into a deafening crescendo.

  Hearing a familiar shout rise within the chaos, Lord Leora’s heart sank—his son had fallen from his horse. Panic and fear surged through him as he rushed to his aid, his mind racing.

  Please be safe. Please be safe.

  Deflecting another shard of ice, he threw himself over his son, shielding him with his body.

  Shouting in rage, he forcefully emitted waves of Aether, shattering the shards of ice that threatened them.

  “Father, I’m fine. It just got my hand,” Karl stammered from under him. His face was pale from the pain.

  Exhaling in relief, Lord Leora scrambled to his feet, sword at the ready.

  Focusing on the Occultist, he saw his brother slam into the man, his sword protruding from the man’s back.

  As the Occultist fell, the forest suddenly changed, the unnatural fog vanished, and the sounds of insects and birds returned.

  “How many did we lose?” Lord Leora stammered, his body shaking as the aftereffects of emitting Aether caught up to him. Emitting Aether to shatter the ice shards had drained him.

  “We lost five, two more are injured,” Conrad answered. Blood was trickling down his face from a deep cut that ran across his temple.

  Cursing to himself, Lord Leora noticed a large shed in the distance.

  “The two Occultists must have been hiding in that shed,” he said, pointing with his chin.

  Turning to the remaining soldiers, he commanded. “Gather the bodies, bandage up, and prepare to leave. Once we check out that shed, we will leave this place.”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  After making sure his soldiers understood what was needed, he approached the shed, his son following close behind.

  “How’s your hand?” he muttered.

  “I was caught off guard, but it will heal in a week or so,” Karl replied, lifting his bandaged arm. The wound was not deep, but the length of the cut had forced his son to bandage his whole arm.

  Nodding at his son, Lord Leora knew the cut would leave a large scar, but as long as it did not hamper his ability to use the sword, he was fine.

  “Scars tell a man’s story,” he said, stepping in front of the shed, his large hand reaching for the door. “Once it heals, you can brag about this day.”

  Opening the door, he felt an eerie aura surround him, the smell of death oozing everywhere. “Stay on guard,” he said, his hand reaching for his sword.

  Behind him, his son pulled out a large knife.

  Nodding once at his son, Lord Leora rotated a trickle of Aether to his eyes, using it to adjust to the dark. Taking a steadying breath, he stepped into the shed.

  The interior of the shed was barren, except for an altar of human skulls at the center. Arranged in a circular pattern, the skulls surrounded the claw of a massive beast.

  “W-w-what is that?” Karl stammered, cautiously inched closer.

  “A Dragon’s claw,” Lord Leora breathed, his body suddenly shivering. Standing there in silence, he felt an unknown will brush against his mind, calling out to him like a lost lover.

  His heart pounded as he took a small step forward, his body tensing as his instinct screamed at him.

  That thing is evil!

  Drawing a panicked breath, he drew in more Aether, his body screaming as the energy burned the haze from his mind.

  Seeing clearly for the first time in what felt like hours, he bellowed in rage, an ethereal Lion roaring to life behind him.

  “Karl! Snap out of it!” he shouted.

  His son was inches from the Claw, hand outstretched.

  Dashing over to him, Lord Leora grabbed his arm, pulling him away.

  “What? What happened?” Karl asked, his glazed eyes blinking as if he had come out of a deep sleep.

  “Conrad!” Lord Leora shouted, slinging his son over his shoulder and barreling toward the exit.

  A second Lion made of pure light tore through the door as his brother rushed in.

  “What happened!?”

  “We need to get out! NOW!”

  Rushing out of the shed with Karl over his shoulder, Lord Leora gestured to his brother.

  “Close the door!”

  As Conrad slammed the door shut, the eerie sensation vanished.

  “That claw needs to be destroyed,” Lord Leora panted, gently placing his son on the ground.

  “What claw?” his brother asked, his eyes wide in shock.

  “There is a claw in there that needs to be destroyed. It cannot be allowed in our territory.” Raising his voice, he called his soldiers. “Bring fire! We will burn that shed to the ground!”

  “My Lord?”

  “Now! And bring more wood! We need to add more fuel to the fire to keep it burning! I want nothing left of the shed or anything within.”

  “Yes, my Lord.”

  Watching his soldiers set fire to the shed, Lord Leora kept on guard, a small amount of Aether constantly rotating around his body.

  As the fire grew in strength, the soldiers kept feeding it, tossing larger and larger pieces of wood into it until the shed collapsed in on itself.

  “More fire! We keep it going all night! Make sure that it doesn't catch the other trees on fire!” Lord Leora yelled, grabbing a large branch and tossing it into the blazing fire.

  The next day, when the sun had finally risen, Lord Leora let the fire die. His exhausted soldiers were sitting on the ground.

  Grabbing his sword, he walked into the pile of ash and burnt wood, searching for the Claw.

  Reaching the location where the Claw was, he saw the white Claw still there, cracks from the fire causing it to look much more terrifying than before.

  Lifting his sword into the air, he stepped into the Stance of Power. Closing his eyes for a second, he once again pulled Aether into his core.

  Coating his mighty sword in Aether, he stepped forward, bellowing out loud as he brought his sword down in a breathtaking slash, Form One: Warlords Decree!

  A deafening boom echoed around the forest as both the sword and claw shattered.