TheShingPen
The Mage's True Face
Gold Tier
The journey had been quiet. Too quiet, in fact, for Zarin’s liking. After a long day of traveling without interruptions, dusk had fallen, and the mage had signaled for them to make camp for the night. They chose a small clearing in the forest, with the soft crackling of the campfire breaking the silence. The stillness in the air, though, made Zarin uneasy.
Zarin sat near the fire, occasionally glancing at the mage, still cloaked and hooded, who was carefully removing items from an ornate, rune-covered box. The air around the artifacts felt charged and heavy. He kept his distance, unsure of what these magical items were capable of.
His instincts flared when the mage pulled out a smooth, shimmering stone. The stone pulsed faintly with energy, and the hum of magic around it grew stronger. Zarin tensed, his body on alert. ‘Something’s off,’ he thought, feeling the pressure in the air intensified.
Suddenly, a bird took flight from a nearby tree, startled by something unseen. Flapping its wings noisily as it darted into the twilight, the bird caught the mage off guard by the sudden movement. The mage flinched, and in that brief second of distraction, the stone slipped from their grasp.
The stone released a violent burst of energy when it hit the ground.
The shockwave from the stone tore through the campsite, knocking over their camp and sending small objects flying in all directions. Zarin staggered backward, barely keeping his footing as the ground trembled beneath him. Arcs of lightning shot from the stone, crackling violently through the air and threatening to tear everything apart.
The mage scrambled to their feet, shouting over the chaos. “Quickly! You must cover me! There’s no time!”
Zarin’s heart raced. He did not know how to shield against magical energy, but he knew there was only one thing he could do. Without hesitation, he summoned Fate’s Dice, and the translucent die appeared before him, spinning frantically in midair. ‘Please, something useful!‘ he thought desperately as the die slowed down.
The die stopped, and light particles shimmered from it, quickly forming around Zarin.
A shimmering, magical field erupted, enveloping him in a faint blue glow. He barely had time to process it before another surge of energy from the stone roared toward them. Zarin leaped before the mage, bracing himself as the violent wave of magical energy slammed into the protective barrier.
The field held.
Lightning arced off the barrier, dissipating harmlessly into the surrounding air. The energy seethed against the shield, but Zarin gritted his teeth and held firm. The raw power threatened to overwhelm him, but the barrier deflected the worst of it, keeping the mage safe. He stood there for a few agonizing seconds, the protective field shimmering around him, shielding them both from the chaotic storm of magic.
Behind him, he could hear the mage chanting in a low, melodic tone, trying to stabilize the stone. Zarin focused entirely on maintaining the shield. His muscles tensed and every fiber of his being locked in place. He knew the barrier wouldn’t last long, but needed to hold out a little longer.
Finally, the outbursts of energy weakened. The arcs of lightning grew smaller, the pressure in the air lightened, and the ground stopped trembling. Zarin’s shield flickered but stayed intact as the last remnants of magical energy fizzled into nothingness.
The stone’s glow dimmed with a final pulse, and the camp fell silent.
Zarin took a deep breath, his body sagging with exhaustion as the protective field faded. ‘That should’ve only lasted 10 seconds… felt like forever,‘ he thought, slumping to his knees. The adrenaline still surged through his veins, and his limbs buzzed from the strain. He glanced over his shoulder at the mage, who knelt beside the now-dormant stone, gasping for breath.
But something was different.
The blast had torn the mage’s hood off, revealing their face for the first time. Zarin’s breath caught in his throat as he stared in disbelief.
It wasn’t just any mage. Beneath the tattered cloak was a young woman with striking, ethereal beauty. Her two different-colored eyes—one a bright, icy blue, the other a fiery red—glimmered in the fading light. As she brushed back her long, flowing hair, Zarin saw the pointed tips of her ears.
An Elf.
Zarin blinked, trying to process what he was seeing. Elves were rare, almost mythical to him—he had never expected to encounter one in person, let alone like this.
The woman sighed softly, now fully revealed, giving Zarin a faint, knowing smile.
“You’re… you’re an Elf,“ Zarin stammered, still trying to wrap his mind around it.
She nodded, her mismatched eyes locking onto his. “Yes, it seems my cover didn’t last as long as I had hoped,“ she said, her voice soft and melodic, no longer disguised by magic. “My name is Arlya”
Zarin swallowed, his pulse still racing. He couldn’t take his eyes off her—something about her presence was utterly captivating. ‘She’s… incredible,‘ he thought, momentarily forgetting everything else.
“I… I’ve never seen an Elf before,“ Zarin said, his voice still shaky.
Arlya gave him a small, understanding smile. “Few have. Elves rarely wander human lands, but… I have my reasons.”
Zarin nodded slowly, still trying to make sense of everything. “So, all that magic… you were stabilizing the stone?”
Arlya glanced at the stone, now lying dormant on the ground. “Yes. It was supposed to be stable, but magic doesn’t always follow the rules we set for it.“ She carefully placed the stone back into the rune-covered box, sealing it with a few swift gestures.
After a moment of silence, Arlya’s gaze shifted back to Zarin, her expression curious. “That shield you summoned… it wasn’t like any protective spell I’ve seen before. Was it magic from your class skill?”
Zarin, still catching his breath, nodded. “Yeah, it’s part of my skill. It’s called Fate’s Dice. I roll it, and whatever I get determines the effect. Sometimes, it’s something useful, like that shield. Other times… not so much.”
Arlya’s eyes lit up with fascination. “A die-based ability? That’s remarkable.“ She studied him more closely, her gaze lingering on him. “I’ve encountered many forms of magic in my time, but this… a class skill tied to chance and luck… is unique.”
Zarin chuckled nervously. “Yeah, it keeps things interesting, to say the least. But I rely on luck more than most. Good thing it’s my highest stat.”
Arlya raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “Luck… That explains why you managed to summon a shield at the perfect moment.“ She smiled faintly. “Perhaps we have more in common with magic than I originally thought.”
Zarin shrugged, his grin returning. “What can I say? I like to gamble with fate.”
As the campfire crackled beside them, Zarin couldn’t help but feel that this quest had turned into something far more exciting and dangerous than he had expected.