Feydan
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Chapter 62 - Distant Thunder
🕑 Added 2025-03-01 15:53:22 +0000 UTCA shape floated into the cavern, its movement silent save for the distant roar of wind and thunder. Rowan stood beside the dim orange glow of his campfire, the meager warmth barely pushing back the sudden chill that swept over him.
The mist thickened as it coalesced into a vaguely humanoid shape hovering just above the ground. Its head was tilted ever so slightly to one side, and where its eyes should have been, there were only two hollow sockets.
Level: 20
Body: N/A
Core: Orange [20 Levels]
A wraith was, after all, a physical manifestation of mana. This one—formed of Wind and Water—made it a slightly lopsided fight for Rowan. He hesitated as the circuit for [Firebolt] coursed through his channels, his Intent a hair's breadth away from being imbued.
Spirits were still monsters, but attacking first wasn’t always necessary. They had their own strange way of looking at the world, and sometimes, curiosity overtook their predatory instincts.
The wraith shifted closer, its form drifting above the ground as its mist spread along the cavern floor.
In response, Rowan raised his hand and a spark flared to life in his palm.
The creature halted immediately, retreating and withdrawing its magic like a cat ready to pounce. Kai moved forward, but Rowan quickly signaled him to stand down. Surprisingly, his familiar obeyed.
For a heartbeat, nothing else happened—the wraith locked its empty gaze on Rowan, and he met it with equal intensity.
What’s it gonna be? he thought. Are you going to grow big and strong, or die right here?
In that next heartbeat, the wraith slowly began drawing back, its form retreating toward the entrance. Rowan watched it vanish into the darkness. For a moment, he actually thought he’d managed it. Then a log in the campfire cracked from the heat, spilling its embers.
In an instant, the creature’s demeanor shifted. A piercing shriek—like hail clattering against wet stone—erupted from the wraith. Kai let out a shriek of his own, flapping his powerful wings.
“Behind!” Rowan shouted, stepping forward and launching his spell. Kai looked like he wasn’t going to listen, but as his [Firebolt] dissipated against the creature's form, his familiar had a change of heart.
I need to help him get to Silver, Rowan decided. And maybe it’s time to consider giving him a Core.
That was a decision he’d need to thoroughly think through. The price of making a mistake was way too high, and Rowan wasn’t going to leave it up to chance.
He flared [Iron Will], casting three [Burning Whip] spells in quick succession.
The wraith’s form expanded as its mist flowed closer toward him. Its Core may have been Orange, but a spirit was capable of tapping into its higher-tier affinity. Water and Wind composed its body, creating a cohesive whole.
Rowan slashed forward with his whips, conjuring another [Firebolt] in his hand and throwing it at the monster. His Intent clamped around its own, finding purchase on the wraith's body.
Mist had a weight to it that Rowan’s Fire simply didn’t, and for a heartbeat, they were at a stalemate.
Then four more whips appeared, and all that changed.
They lashed out, wrapping around the creature and pulling its form together.
An ethereal wail reverberated against the cavern walls as Rowan tightened his spell. Like a serpent coiling around its prey, his magic flared and extinguished the spirit. In moments, the wind that had been sweeping through the cavern dissipated, and the creature’s form quickly followed.
Rowan held his spells up for a few beats longer before letting them drop.
I should leave, was the first thought that passed through his mind. That was loud. And bright. And surprisingly, easier than I thought it’d be.
He glanced at the entrance and took a step forward, but he didn’t take another.
Fuck.
It was pitch black outside, with only the occasional bolt of lightning illuminating the sky. Rain fell and wind blew, and Rowan realized he wouldn’t be going anywhere. It was more dangerous out there than it was in here, even with whatever creatures his fight certainly summoned.
“Kai, I need you in the air,” he said to his familiar. “Keep close to the entrance and try to alert me if anything’s coming. But don’t engage. Not unless you have to.”
The black-feathered raven flapped his wings, taking to the air and leaving the cavern.
Rowan summoned a mana potion from the Vault, chucking it down and flaring [Iron Will]. His reserves had grown substantially since he’d fought his first shaman, and what he’d expended now barely managed to put a dent in his mana pool. Still, it was better to be safe.
No one ever complained of having too much mana.
He could feel his Core churning as it processed the potion, pushing his recovery to something resembling useful.
Rowan spent a minute moving the fire deeper in. While it would have probably been smarter to snuff it out altogether, fighting in the dark seemed like a great way to end up dead.
With that done, he settled in and waited.
This is going to be a long night, Rowan thought, taking a deep, steadying breath.
His fingers clenched and unclenched at his side, eager to cast. He’d never been one to shy away from a fight, and as the din of Stormspire Heights reached his ears, a small smile tugged at his lips.
”Let’s see what you’ve got.”
.
.
.
The next week passed in a blur—a sequence of long, monotonous moments punctuated by swift, bloody clashes. On his first night, Rowan ended up fighting another two dozen Mist Wraiths, with another dozen arriving to check out the commotion only to leave moments later.
His second night pitted him against a colony of Mire Bats, and Kai had taken offense to their presence. The little menace turned into a black maelstrom of mayhem, taking out the pests with a feral efficiency.
On the third night, a pack of Howlers emerged, and on the fourth, Umbral Lynxes stalked them from the darkness. This was followed by another barrage of Wraiths, and later, a troupe of Shale Stalkers.
In all, Rowan was receiving a first-hand crash course on the ecosystem of Stormspire Heights. His sleep had definitely suffered—right alongside his hygiene—but Rowan was having an absolute blast.
Every encounter offered an opportunity to become stronger, and the sheer variety of foes only sharpened his skills. As the nights progressed, Rowan’s confidence in his abilities grew in turn. Not to the point of arrogance—he paid special attention to that—but enough for him to feel comfortable in his surroundings.
He discovered that the most effective way to take out a Wraith was to allow it to spread out before severing it in half. Similarly, he figured out that Shale Stalkers harbored a distinct aversion to threats from above.
It became almost like a game, and each day, Rowan was getting better at it. His spells grew just the slightest bit faster, and when that happened, efficiency followed.
Mastery—as his mother used to say—was a myth. An elusive peak that every mage spent a lifetime chasing. Seemingly always in reach, yet never close enough to touch.
So Rowan made slight, incremental improvements to his various spells, fine-tuning their circuits and refining his Intent. It honestly felt like a vacation, and he found himself utterly absorbed in the process.
Kai was a steadfast companion, valiantly cheering him on while feasting on the mountain of carcasses Rowan left in his wake—though, admittedly, some of those were his own catches.
His little raven wasn’t so little anymore. Kai was growing stronger by the day, and Rowan felt it was only a matter of time before he advanced to Silver.
“I’m going to catch up to you one of these days, mark my words,” Rowan said, climbing over a rocky outcropping and scanning the horizon.
The scenery hadn’t changed—vast valleys and towering mountain ranges stretched out, yet there wasn’t a settlement in sight. Rowan had hoped that his token would land him somewhere near civilization, but it seemed that wasn’t the case.
“Gods, what I wouldn’t give for a bath,” he muttered, sniffing himself. “Like a wet dog.”
Kai cawed, and Rowan got ready. This cycle had become their routine: walk, fight, rest. Though not always in that order. He knew that eventually this monotony would wear on him, but right now, Rowan had no complaints.
His gaze landed on the cavern Kai had pointed out, gaze narrowing as he tried to make out the shape of the monster that inhabited it. A moment later, he got his answer.
Level: 25
Body: Silver V [20 Levels]
Core: Red [5 Levels]
Level: 26
Body: Silver III [16 Levels]
Core: Orange [10 Levels]
Level: 23
Body: Silver IV [18 Levels]
Core: Red [5 Levels]
The first one crawled out, spindly limbs moving with unnatural grace. It was human-sized, but that was where the resemblance ended. Its body was coated in a slick, chitinous shell, black and glistening like polished obsidian.
Eight eyes dotted its elongated face, with two fangs protruding from its maw, dripping with a viscous, greenish liquid that Rowan wanted no part of.
Behind it, two more Stoneborer Spiders followed. They moved in tandem, their bulbous abdomens scraping against the rock.
“Well, at least it’s something new,” Rowan grinned, ready to uncover what else the Heights had in store for him.
.
.
.
Another few days passed and Rowan found himself growing worried. Not because of the monsters he encountered, those he took care of with relative ease, but because of something he couldn’t quite explain.
He’d expected to run into at least one Gold-rank threat, yet they were nowhere to be found. The question now was ‘why?’.
Rowan had an inkling, but he didn’t voice it.
The number of Wraiths visiting him increased each night, yet the frequency of their attacks strangely grew smaller. They would mill around him for a few minutes, extending their mist into the caverns he occupied in what almost seemed like a greeting. In response, Rowan returned it with gentle [Gust]’s which seemed enough to placate the spirits.
Later that night, a massive storm tore through the Heights. Rain pelted the ground as gusting winds threatened to snuff out Rowan’s carefully maintained fire. He kept it going, having learned his lesson a few days prior what happened if he let darkness descend.
Kai huddled close, nestling in his lap and seeking warmth.
“That's a big one, huh?” Rowan muttered as he lightly stroked his feathers.
Kai trilled sleepily.
“Gods, I hope it passes,” Rowan said, glancing at the cave entrance, listening to the booming thunder as it echoed off the mountain ranges. “If I have to spend another day walking through a rainstorm, I’m going to strangle someone.”
His familiar whacked him with a wing and Rowan got back to scratching.
Minutes passed, then hours, yet Rowan still couldn’t sleep.
Something nagged at him—a persistent itch in the back of his mind that wouldn’t let him rest. Every time he closed his eyes, a voice warned him that something was coming, and Rowan had learned to trust his instincts.
Kai didn’t seem to have the same problem. The little menace was fast asleep, twitching occasionally like he was lost in a pleasant dream. Rowan let him rest. Whatever it was, it would come, or it wouldn’t. Kai being away wouldn’t change it.
So Rowan settled in, returning to his vigil.
As the hours passed, the night seemed to grow heavier. The darkness deeper. A weight settled on his shoulders, lighting flashing and thunder booming.
“It’s louder than before,” Rowan murmured, frowning. “Not just louder—closer.”
Without waking him, Rowan gently picked Kai up and laid him on the sleeping bag. Then he moved toward the cave entrance, his hands shaking slightly as a vague shape emerged in the distance.
High above, a concentrated storm slowly traversed the sky, causing his heartbeat to quicken and his palms to grow sweaty.
“There’s no way,” Rowan whispered, his tone awed at the sight.
Without thinking, he scanned it.
Level: 100
Body: N/A
Core: Green [100 Levels]
The Storm Elemental suddenly halted, a booming peal of thunder echoing across the Heights. Then, in a deliberate slowness that contrasted sharply with the rapid beating of Rowan’s heart, it turned.
“...crap.”
______
AN: I was debating whether to spend the next chapter or two showcasing the various fights, but I felt like they weren't all that important to progressing the story along. Not sure if it made the chapter feel rushed though, so feel free to feed me some of your opinions. The story is still a work in progress, so I might just expand once I'm editing.
Chapter 63 - March 3rd.
Comments
Thomas V.
I wholeheartedly agree with this point. The only way action has any meaning or impact in a story is if there’s contrast with the actual meat of it. Constant action without stakes to make it matter is largely meaningless.
Carolyne
For the overall pacing of the story it helps to have some of this time passes stuff happened but nothing worth writing home about. The little bits of introspection and interaction with his perspective bond animal seem important. If they are truly going to bond and the raven doesn't just go I like your other party member more I am going to bond to them. I also like how this chapter is like life. Days or weeks can go by with nothing mutch to happening and that is healthy and good it makes the times of action/desperation/... have greater meaning. Please don't water down the "real" fights in the story by stuffing it full of filler fights.
Stephen Pearson
Thanks for the chapter! :-)
Raymond Mouton
Thanks for the chapter. I agree with Roethan, this chapter’s fight descriptions were sufficiently detailed to let us know what was occurring and nicely indicate the passage of time. Should be interesting to see what he does now vs a Storm Elemental…
Marko
Yeah, those were my thoughts when writing it. I feel like it'd get repetitive showing fights that don't pose all that much of a threat. Thanks for the feedback!
Roethan
No, the fight small descriptions were enough to show the passing of time and frequency of encounters without logging down the story. If at some point he encounters an advanced version of something he fought here you can explain the differences then and it will be fine. Might actually help with highlighting the differences.
