My heart pounded with a mixture of fear and determination. This was it. This was my chance to avenge my family, to put an end to the group that had torn my life apart. I tucked the map into my cloak and stood up, checking the fit of my father's old cloak around me. The weight of my wand was reassuring at my side, though I knew my magical abilities were limited.
Illusion magic was my specialty, but I had little mana to sustain more powerful spells. Basic elemental spells were all I could manage beyond that, but I hoped it would be enough.
As I stepped out into the night, the streets were eerily quiet. The moon cast a pale glow over the cobblestones, making the shadows seem to stretch and dance around me. I kept to the edges, moving swiftly and silently towards the cathedral. My mind was focused on the task ahead, every step bringing me closer to the catacombs and, hopefully, the answers I sought.
The cathedral loomed before me, its spires reaching towards the heavens. The grandeur of it was intimidating, but I forced myself to move forward. I found the entrance to the catacombs hidden behind a side door, just as the bartender had described. I took a deep breath and descended the narrow steps, the air growing cooler and damper with each step.
The catacombs were dark, the flickering light from my wand casting long shadows on the stone walls. The smell of damp earth and decay filled my nostrils, making me wrinkle my nose. I moved cautiously, every sound magnified in the silence. I didn't know what I would find down here, but I was ready for anything.
Or so I thought.
I rounded a corner and came face to face with a figure. He was tall and wiry, his eyes gleaming with malice. He wore the tattered remains of what looked like once-fine clothes, now dirty and torn. I recognized him from the descriptions—the low-ranking member of the Deadly Hollows.
"You shouldn't be here," he growled, drawing a knife from his belt.
My heart raced as I raised my wand, trying to remember my training. I conjured an illusion, making it appear as though I had summoned a swarm of fireflies around me. The man hesitated, momentarily distracted by the flickering lights.
But I wasn't fast enough. He lunged at me, his knife glinting in the dim light. I dodged to the side, but not quickly enough. The blade sliced across my arm, pain flaring up as blood welled from the wound. I cried out, stumbling back.
I tried to cast a basic fireball, but my mana was already running low. The spell fizzled out before it could form properly. Panic surged through me as the man advanced, a cruel smile on his face.
"This is what you get for meddling where you don't belong," he sneered, grabbing me by the throat and slamming me against the wall. I struggled, gasping for breath, my vision starting to blur. His knife pressed against my throat, the cold metal sending a shiver down my spine.
"Any last words?" he taunted, his grip tightening.
My mind raced, desperately searching for a way out. But before I could think of anything, a familiar voice cut through the darkness.
"How foolish. For pitiful criminals like you to be roaming in this kingdom. It's truly unbefitting of a grand kingdom like ours."
The man froze, his grip loosening slightly. I turned my head as much as I could, my eyes widening in surprise and relief. Professor Draven stood at the entrance to the chamber, his expression cold and disdainful. A pen floated in the air beside him, glowing with an eerie light.
Draven raised a hand, and the pen moved with a precision and grace that belied its mundane appearance. The man holding me began to convulse, his knife falling from his hand. He tried to move, but it was as though an invisible force was holding him in place.
"Release her," Draven commanded, his voice ice-cold.
The man's hands twitched, but he couldn't move them. I could see the strain on his face as he tried to resist, but it was futile. The Professor's psychokinesis was too strong.
"Consider yourself fortunate that I have intervened," Draven continued, stepping closer. "But do not mistake my intervention for mercy."
The man's eyes widened in terror as he realized he was completely at Draven's mercy. For a moment, I felt a pang of pity for him. But then I remembered my family, their lifeless bodies, the pain and grief that had consumed me. My vision went red with rage.
While the man was immobilized, I chanted a basic fireball spell. It was one of the few elemental spells I could manage, and it drained the last of my mana. The fireball formed in my hand, and with a cry of fury, I thrust it forward, point-blank into the man's head.
The explosion was brief but intense. The man's head snapped back, his body crumpling to the ground, lifeless. The smell of burnt flesh filled the chamber, mingling with the scent of decay. I stumbled back, my legs weak from exhaustion and the rush of adrenaline.
The sound of the fireball and the man's death throes echoed through the catacombs, drawing unwanted attention. I heard the distant sound of footsteps—heavy and purposeful. The city guards were coming.
Draven clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Impetuous fool," he muttered, glaring at me. "Even if it's a criminal, such one-sided justice is not for commoners to administer."
He raised his hand, and I felt a strange sensation as his psychokinesis enveloped me. Before I could react, I was lifted off my feet and flung unceremoniously into a nearby trash bin. The lid closed over me, plunging me into darkness. I struggled to push it open, but my strength was gone, and I could only listen as the guards arrived.
Through the narrow gaps in the bin, I saw the knights and guards, led by Lady Sophie of Icevern, the captain of the guard. They entered the chamber, their eyes widening at the sight of Draven standing over the corpse.
"Professor Draven?" Sophie asked, her voice filled with confusion and suspicion. "What happened here?"
Draven sighed, his expression one of practiced weariness. "I found this criminal attempting to escape justice. He attacked me, and I was forced to defend myself."
Sophie frowned, looking from Draven to the corpse and back again. "But this... this looks like..."
Draven's gaze hardened, cutting her off. "Are you questioning my methods, Captain?"
Sophie shook her head quickly. "No, Professor. Of course not."
"Good," Draven said, his tone brooking no argument. "Ensure this area is secured. I will make my report to the council."
The guards nodded, moving to secure the chamber and examine the body. Draven turned and walked away, his expression cold and unreadable.
But before he could walk away, a voice stopped him in his tracks.
"Are you sure this is not just a murder, Professor Draven?" Lady Sophie asked him sternly. But her tone is not of doubt, but it's the tone of a person asking if she can trust him?
"It is up to you knights to believe me or not," Professor Draven replied without turning his back.
I could hear the mutterings of the knights behind Lady Sophie uttering how he must have killed him because he held a secret of him or something.
As the sounds of the guards' activity faded, I was left alone in the darkness of the trash bin, my mind racing with the events that had just unfolded.
I had made a mistake. A terrible, reckless mistake. But I was still alive, and I had learned something valuable. I couldn't let my rage control me. I needed to be smarter, and more strategic. The path to vengeance was fraught with danger, and I couldn't afford any more missteps.
But could I do it?
Would I stay alive?
Just facing such a man, I failed. He's not one of the leaders of the Deadly Hollows.
And I've made trouble for the professor as well.
Suddenly, the moonlight exposed me as the lid of the bin opened, and a cold voice entered my ears.
"Neophyte Maris," The voice called me. "Are you alright?"
The cold red eyes slowly turned into blue, and shone as he narrowed his beautifully cold eyes upon me.
"Starting this point. It's supplementary class,"