maneuver carefully, the magi leaps into the air just before his deteriorating ice bridge ends, waving a glowing arm over the bow of the boat as he twists through the air. A jet of water violently ejects the woman from her vehicle just before the reaver lands with what could almost be considered grace. Quickly steering the motorized vessel away from the fortress, he turns back to blow a kiss to the fuming woman atop the cliff, shaking with rage as she throws her bow to the ground. “She just needs some space,” he decides, breathing in the fresh air and taking in the sight of Great Bay. “She’ll be alright.”
The lightweight craft skips along the cresting surface of the murky blue water. The distant shore seems lacking in activity, but upon closer inspection, a boy wearing green comes into view near the old scientist’s shack. It isn’t until the figure inflates a large, red balloon that Geist realizes it is only that tiny, eccentric man who is constantly doodling maps. The sporadic winds give Geist an ominous chill as he gradually makes his way southward, the late afternoon sun doing little to quell his suspicion of ill-fated events on the horizon. Soon enough, the murky blue water becomes a swampy green, the motorized craft immediately communicating its inability to continue traversing the thickening bog. “Made it further than I expected,” he shrugs, steering the sputtering vehicle toward the shore. Eventually, the boat is able to drift close enough for the magi to simply leap the short distance to dry land, though the wild thicket of tangling roots and vines does nothing to expedite his travels. “Deku palace seems like good place to hide out for a spell,” he murmurs to himself, finally pushing through the dense wood and onto a cleared pathway.
“Release us!” A voice screams within the reaver’s mind.
“It’s over, man. Just let it be over,” another pleads.
“You killed us. Your entire race,” yet another insists, each voice cascading over the preceding one as they quickly become a crescendo of angry shouts.
“Nothing can come of this!”
“You can’t stifle us with potions forever.”
“I wanted to fight! I wanted an honorable death!”
“Just breathe,” a familiar voice adds, separate from the overwhelming rabble.
“I want my mom!” A child’s voice cries, sobbing loudly as the souls of his people grow increasingly restless. The lantern grows brighter with every step the magi takes, the voices finally forcing him to a knee as he holds his temples in his palms. The forest spins around him, quickly, yet slowly at the same time, his senses betraying him as gravity seems to become an abstract concept. The buzzing and croaking of the swamp fades away, the dim orange light against his tightly closed eyelids fading to the deepest blue.
“Geist,” Cale calls, his voice loud, but calm. “Just breathe.” A violent exhale spews a cloud of dust outward, dissolving into the twilight as the reaver rises to a sitting position upon the forest trail. A twig snaps within the foliage to his right betraying the silent recoil of whatever manner of creature has been watching him. Apprehensively, the magi’s eyes drift over to the depressingly dim lantern resting against his thigh, its inhabitants having returned to silence at some point during his unconsciousness. “Why do you all—“ he starts, failing to find the words in his frustration. Every decade has been worse than the preceding one, the trapped spirits of his people, of his friends, endlessly ridiculing, judging, and most of all, hating their captor. A lazy wind weaves through the silent trees and over the soft earth of the marshland as the man climbs to his feet and attempts to get his bearings. Another sudden rustle of leaves catches his attention, this time accompanied by a low, threatening growl.
“Really not in the mood, chaps,” he sighs, dusting off his thoroughly worn clothing. One patient step after another reveals a wolfos, and as the hunter begins to circle its prey, a second steps into the fading light of evening. The creature flashes its large fangs with a snarl, its partner now circling the idle man between them as they study their dinner. “Alright, if this is how you want to play it,” Geist groans, rolling his eyes. Utilizing his vanishing trick, the beasts find themselves staring at their own reflections before a piercing whistle snaps them to attention. Casually proceeding down the path, the magi gestures for them to follow, his quick pace far from a jog, but too hurried to be considered a swagger. A pair of howls signal the chase has begun, each of the hunters sprinting full force after their elusive meal. Easily able to deter and confuse the predators, Geist soon finds himself in Termina Field, though the pair of hungry beasts are not far behind. After a quick glance at his empty rupee pouch, he turns to find the thoroughly agitated wolves have nearly caught up to him. A moment later, he has a plan to transform his potentially dismal situation into a profitable one.
An intricate weave of colorful lattice fencing encloses the pathway leading up the slope to the town’s south entrance, the impressive pathway designed to keep the less intelligent creatures roaming the area from wandering into the community. The rhythmic bang of hammers barks through the alleyways of South Clock Town, only a few of the town’s inhabitants still out and about at the late hour. A small construction crew seems to be wrapping up their long-term project for the day, gathering planks of wood around a decorative, multistoried platform reaching high overhead. A cocky child struts up the distant stairs beside the massive clock at the center of town, its face decorated with indecipherable murals, slowly grinding in a circle as the impressive display of technology ticks in a rhythm all its own. The magi bids the pair of guards a respectful nod as he casually strolls by, acting convincingly unaware of the furry killers closing in from behind. It isn’t until one of the carpenters drops the load of lumber he is carrying that everyone in the area freezes in place.
“Look out!” He yelps, pointing feverishly past the exit. Taken by surprise, the guards spin on their heels, only to become terrified themselves at the sight of the charging beasts. Shouts of terror cascade over the once peaceful town, the few still present rapidly taking flight into the other districts. A fake look of shock overtakes Geist’s visage, reeling at the improbable catastrophe now playing out before his eyes. Several pensive steps backward becomes a leap of fright as the Ikanian’s hand falls on one of the guards shoulders.
“I’ll handle this, boys,” he declares, thumbing his nose at the approaching animals. “Watch closely,” he adds, raising a condescending finger as he looks down on the sentries with raised eyebrows. “Most mercenaries don’t consider property damage, but I—“ he boasts, his arrogant smirk instantly melting away when a thunderous shriek blasts through the sky. Its purposeful stride warbling for a moment, one of the Wolfos falls to the earth limply in the wake of an invisible beam slicing through the decorative path in an explosion of shattered wood. The hunter’s partner is thrown off its feet when the perpetrator of the attack lands with a heavy thud a short distance from the town entrance. The vast majority of the elaborate corridor is blasted apart when the creature beats its wings angrily, only the thick support pillars lining the walkway remaining erect for the time being. A futile attack is met with overwhelming resistance when the keeserroc twists into an effortless backstroke, catching the pouncing wolf with his forearm and launching it into the recently constructed platform like a furry wrecking ball. The foreman’s cries of disbelief can be heard nearby as the entire structure comes crashing back down to its foundation.
“Got my foot in my mouth quite a bit today,” Geist mumbles under his breath, briefly surveying the damage. “Miss me?” He sighs, slowly advancing toward the centuries-old bat-dragon, carefully maintaining a close proximity to his foe as the reaver steers him away from the entrance. The creature shows clear signs of recognition, lowering its head and snarling as its tall ears follow the magi’s movements like a pair of hollow eyes. Remaining considerate of the town, the reaver tries his best to avoid initiating the confrontation until he is a safe distance from the people, now cowering in their homes. The monster stalks his target slowly, a barely perceptible jingle of meta
l sounding with every encircling step. “That must have hurt,” The magi admits after a brief hiss through his teeth, noting what is left of the chain dangling from the beast’s ankle. A sudden influx of air doubles the size of the creature’s chest as it levels its stance in a bracing fashion. “No small talk, eh?” The magi jests, waving his glowing arm as a series of translucent mirrors seem to create a dozen copies of himself all around his foe. The beast shows no sign of confusion, remaining locked onto its target as it unleashes a piercing scream.
“Stupid, stupid, stupid,” Geist mocks himself as he sprints in a crescent past the dragon, the destructive torrent of sound sweeping too close for comfort in his wake. Quickly taking a knee, he is lifted into the air as a pillar of earth erupts upward at his command. The annihilating noise torrent eats through the base of the temporary safe haven, forcing the magi to leap skyward, his arm glowing green as a powerful gust of wind pulls him through the air. No stranger to aerial combat, Reek takes flight with alarming speed, the pillar of earth crashing back to ground level in his wake. A pair of