The night sky was dark no start or moon—all them hidden by a blanket of night clouds—covered them. As the cold air of night keep raising there something on the woods..being chased.
"Sigh… dear God, I should've expected this sooner."
A boy with brown skin darted through the wall of towering trees, breath ragged, clothes torn. A deep scar ripped across his left cheek, making him look more like a survivor than a runner. At his waist hung a sword, and in his hands he gripped a heavy metal staff.
As he ran, flashes of magic burst around him—explosions tearing into the ground, smoke swallowing his trail. A few blasts grazed close, but somehow he burst out of the haze untouched, lungs burning.
"Phewww… that was close," he muttered, still sprinting. Exhaustion weighed on him, yet his legs carried him forward with the speed of an athlete.
The forest suddenly ended, cut short by a massive canyon yawning before him. "Shit…" He skidded to a halt, panting, forcing himself not to collapse. He didn't dare relax. He knew they were still coming.
And then, they appeared. From the shadows of the trees, figures emerged—robes brushing the ground, staffs in hand, faces hidden behind plague doctor masks.
The boy exhaled sharply, tugging a strip of cloth over his own face. "Of course they won't give me a break…" He pulled the makeshift mask tighter. Luckily, the moon was smothered by clouds, hiding his features from their sight.
"O intruder, give up! You are surrounded!" one of them bellowed, a massive figure raising his staff toward the boy. The tip began to glow with lethal light. If the boy didn't surrender, he'd be blasted apart.
The boy drew a deep breath, eyes cold and unblinking. Slowly, he lifted his hands—one of them still clutching the heavy metal staff.
The masked figures took it as surrender and stepped closer. Big mistake.
With a sudden swing, the boy slammed the metal bar into the nearest one. Bone cracked. Another swing dropped the next. He moved like a storm, each strike brutal and precise, breaking ribs, snapping joints, knocking them down one by one.
Spells flew past him—explosions tearing through the ground—but he twisted and dodged, keeping the upper hand. For a moment, it looked like he might actually win.
Then—boom!—a blast caught him in the back. Fire ripped across his skin, leaving a charred scar as he crashed to the ground. Gasping, he pushed himself up, but another robed figure was already standing over him, staff pointed down.
"…Huff… huff… any last words?" the plague-masked voice sneered.
The boy's lips curled beneath his makeshift mask. Even burned and trembling, he managed a grin.
"Yeah… eat shit."
"What—?!" the plague-masked figure managed to say before a massive blast slammed into his back, launching him into a wall of towering trees. He hit hard, crumpling into unconsciousness.
Above, several figures descended from the sky, their magic still glowing from the strike.
The boy barely had time to catch his breath before a purple, goo-like substance wrapped around him and lifted him upward.
"Got you," said a female voice. A girl with purple hair steadied him on her flying staff.
"Haah! I'm glad you're safe!" another voice cried. A brown-skinned girl swooped in from behind and hugged him tightly.
"AAAGH!" the boy yelped in pain, his scorched back screaming.
"Oops! Sorry, sorry!" the tan girl quickly let go, face flushed with guilt.
"Yeah… ahem… we're just glad you're okay," the purple-haired girl said, glancing at him with gentle eyes. Her pointed ears twitched slightly as she spoke.
"Kiddo, you really held your own down there. Glad you're still breathing," said an older woman riding a staff shaped like an owl's head.
"Yeah, that was fantastic!" added the only boy among the group, eyes wide with excitement.
"I think we should get moving. We've got Raffy back," said a girl with glasses, her gaze dropping to the forest floor where the plague-masked attackers lay unconscious.
"Yeah… and we need to treat you too," the tan girl added, cupping Raffy's cheek with worry.
"Luz… could you cut it out?" Raffy muttered irritably, too exhausted to fight her off.
"Let her be. At least you're safe. Let's go," said the purple-haired girl—Amity.
Raffy rolled his eyes. "Of course you're on her side, Amity."
"Hold tight—this is my first time carrying two people at once with my palisman. I mean it, hold tight," Amity said, glancing back at Raffy and Luz. As the boy swears he could see the purple girl have Bashfull blush on her cheeks and he pray that was toward Luz.
The group rose higher, leaving the battlefield behind as they flew off into the night.
END...
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YES END
Yes just one chapter...👁️👄👁️ I made this fanfic just for fun, not seriously or anything.
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