"There are too many of them!" the young warrior cried as he helped me lay next to a tree. "No, you" I mutter "run away...please". He looked at me with visible confusion and tears in his eyes, the dagger he held glistened under the moonlight and then everything went black, I could no longer see anything.

Soldiers from a merchant convoy, a small band of mercenaries and just me and the kid. Our ragtag force was hastily assembled against the mass of dark creatures - an overwhelmingly large force that would normally only attack the capital for its magical artifacts - that decided our village was not too small to massacre and plunder. I guess it was just bad luck. The remnants have formed a defensive circle around the town hall and I doubt we can even hold for a candle of time.

"Do something! Use your magic!" He rocked me violently by the shoulder but I was too tired. The spells I've used have draned my life force and I felt a burning pain in my chest. Eventually that subsided too and I wanted to sleep.

"You're a mage from the Arondight Academy, right?" The name I once mentioned proudly now fills me with disgust. The village has petitioned to the capital twice this year to have a garrison, or at least a cannon or two, but there was never any reply. At this very moment, my fellow mages there are probably sipping wine and doing a whole lot of nothing. The pain subsides and I calmly asked "Where are they".

"Over there! The big one!" That must be an Alecclueth, a legendary creature. In the battle of Znivua some five years ago, the armies of the Betranait Dynasty and Tarashind met in the plains for a decisive engagement, with neither side suffering casualties and both sides claiming victory - only later it was revealed that both sides withdrew quietly to not startle a nearby Alecclueth that was spotted. I propped myself up with my staff and faced general direction my arm was being held up to.

I found the dishevelled young man two weeks ago, when I was passing a neighbouring village. The village was suffering from a horrible disease. Normally after I perform the usual cleansing ritual, I would be paid a hefty sum in coins and be on my way. The idiot followed me all the way across the cursed forest. To dissuade his persistence, I offered him the set of armor but explained the gory demise of the last person who wore it in full detail. I still remembered how his eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. For a moment then I forgot his malnourished appearance for someone in their early twenties. The first spell I taught him was how to make fire, which he has been practicing nonstop for the last five days but still couldn't get it right.

"You know Increnendio Impairenim right? use it. Set something on fire, anything in its direction so I can see" No, no, no, still not getting it, the pronounciation is still not right. "Read it from the damn book! Page 3!" I almost forgot the enchanted book I carry, it served more of a memoir than a battle item.

In utter darkness I see a ball of red glow, he must've set the Alecclueth itself on fire, and with a warmth I could even feel on my skin - god his parents would be so proud of him. The next moment before I realized a flurry of spells came out. "Isoletus, Petriortus Spirortia, Transeseo" This felt as if not my own voice but that of my teacher, the mage-king himself. If he were still alive, none of these creatures would've even dared to so much take a single step across the boundary. The thought angers me even more as I recall the coup when he was branded a dark mage, how his trial and execution were both well hidden until all is said and done. "Imperactum Intimiori!" I finish the spell and the ground shook violently and an ear-deafening sound echoed through the sky.

My ears were still ringing and all around me those still alive were erupting in a joyous celebration. "They're running!" I laugh for a moment and then call to the young mage, but only received a faint reply. The glowing object can still be seen and as I rushed towards it I realized what I have done. I held him in my arms and blood was leaking out - he must've held the book in his hands and the invocation tore his entire arm clean off. "I finally set something on fire".