Book One – Chapter 14

There would be questions. There would be questions befitting the situation, and there would be curiosity, too, but first and foremost, there would be restraint. No one needed to be told not to pick up random artefacts, especially not a wizard’s staff. It was a primal warning etched into the instincts of even the most reckless. Unless you were a wizard yourself or one of the few daring artefact hunters who sought out such relics with obsessive preparation, you simply left these things untouched. It was an unspoken rule, as self-explanatory as avoiding the bite of fire. Everyone with a basic survival instinct understood this. Everyone except Nagrak.

Since the grand avian beast had appeared, Nagrak had been hiding in a narrow crevice, one so tight that only his wiry body could have squeezed into it. The crevice had been a suffocating tunnel of raw brown rock, so constricting that once inside, he had been unable to turn around. The only way forward was through. He had pocketed Balthagar’s gem, scrambled upward, and clawed his way over jagged edges until he emerged onto a higher ledge overlooking the battle.

From his perch, he had watched the incredible display of magic unfold in the far distance. Bayazak and Tergak’s mastery of ice and stone had been nothing short of awe-inspiring, their combined efforts defeating the wizard turned avian beast and back, and sealing the golem in a towering boulder prison. It was a moment of sheer triumph, a testament to the power Nagrak would soon wield as well. He had felt his own untested magic burning like a distant ember in his gut; a gem of two colours — awe and envy.

Then he saw Gorak.

Nagrak was utterly surprised and overjoyed to see his krag emerge, and then he was equally surprised and quite as much terrified to see T̰́̇ͦ̀è̸̷̸̬̤̗̊_̸̵̰̦̗̒͜ȟ̗̍ͤa̶͉͉͍̭̰̅̀̈͜ͅȓ̶̶̛̦͇͙̟̈̿͒ͮ͑̋̚͡u̟͖͔̖̙͙͆̄̿ͩͧ̃̽̓̈̌̀͟͞n rise; the Full Dark racing along and swallowing entire mountain peaks within mere breaths.