The Dire Wolves

Diane feels like an idiot, and she’s sure she looks like one too. Swallowing the last of her pride she gives Aster a pleading look.

“Can’t you do something? Please?”

He rubs the side of his head as if he has a mean headache but manages a tired smile anyway.

“No, as I explained, I can’t. It’s your magic. It responds to your thoughts, to your soul.”

“But it’s not,” she almost wails. It had sounded so easy. Let it seep out of your hands to let it out, then pull it back in to switch it off. Only it didn’t. Rather the opposite. “Why won’t it stop?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never heard of this happening before. But then I’ve never seen anyone discovering how to use mana as an adult. It’s usually a puberty thing.”

He gets up and pours the last of their water on the fire to make it go out. It hisses and dies in a cloud of smoke. Like a good fire should. Her arms, on the other hand… Blue flames are running up and down, from her shoulders to the tips of her fingers. Joyously defiant of all her efforts.

“We need to leave,” he says, giving her a troubled look. “You can practice as we walk.”

“Leave?” Her voice is more shrill than she likes. “I can’t go anywhere like this.”

She looks down at herself and makes a face. Blue flames aside, the entire front of her scrubs is soaked, clinging uncomfortably to her body, showing off her curves. Aster had noticed as well, and she swears she saw a dumb grin on his face when his eyes lingered just a little too long on her chest. Well, at least now he’s keeping his eyes where they belong, though she could do without all the sighing and exasperated looks.

“You’ll run out of mana eventually.” He shrugs and gets up, gesturing for her to do the same. “It should be easier next time. If I were to make a guess, it’s acting like this because it’s been pent up for too long.”

“You think?” That is a small relief at least.

“Yes. I also think that if pulling the magic back is too hard for you…” He pauses, and she can feel the eyeroll he’s holding back. “If that’s too hard, you can try to shape it into a ball like this instead.” He holds his hands out and a ball of orange flames appears between them. It seems so effortless. Like magic should be.

“Fine, I’ll try.”

“Good.” Aster starts walking, and Diane reluctantly follows, watching him toss his ball up in the air before catching it. Showoff.

“Come on, keep up. We have a long way to go today.”

“Will we reach a city today?” While she wants to get there, to find someone to answer all her questions, she’s also not too keen on meeting new people with her hands on fire.

“Not a city. But perhaps we can rest in a village tonight. With your magic running wild like this, you’re a beacon for…” He quiets and looks around uncomfortably. A chill runs down Diane’s spine.

“A beacon for what?” She has a pretty good idea, and she swallows hard.

“Oh, all kinds of things,” Aster says in a light, clearly false tone. “You let me worry about that, and focus on your practice.”

She tries not to worry, she really does. She’s seen how swift Aster is with his sword, and he has magic too. But the creature that attacked them before was small and sick. The monster stalking her is neither. The fear clutching at her chest makes focusing on the magic hard, and the brisk pace Aster set isn’t helping either.

As they walk, she keeps looking around, but even the beautiful landscape and cute critters she sees can’t calm her nerves. The sun is high in the sky when they reach a big field with grass taller than her waist. The mild breeze sends ripples through it, making it resemble waves on turquoise green waters. Like everything here, it’s beautiful in a surreal way.

Making good use of his bigger frame and strength, Aster takes the lead with Diane trotting along close behind. Doing her best to keep up without tripping, while also trying to make her newfound magic do anything. Anything at all. So focused that she barely notices a flock of birds taking flight further ahead. Until she walks straight into Aster’s back and swears.

“What…” she starts, then notices his tense stance and the way his hand grips the handle of his sword.

“Shh, don’t talk. Stay behind me.” The sound of the sword being drawn is chilling. Foreboding. What has spooked him? She looks around and freezes. Something is moving through the grass. Quickly.

Three, no, five hidden shapes are leaving trails of trampled grass in their wake, creating lines in the sea of moving grass. Lines that are pointing straight at her and Aster. They are surrounded. By what? An image of the beast comes to her mind, but it can’t be it. It’s too big to be hidden in this grass.

The lines draw nearer and Diane forgets how to breathe.

There’s a snarl from her left, then an answering one behind her, and she spins around. Eyes wide, arms glowing with useless power as Aster shoves her out of the way.

Wolves? Her brain tries to make sense of their attackers. Gray ragged fur, long snouts, pointy ears. But there’s also scaly skin, large patches rippling with darkness as if living oil has been poured over them.

Snarls turn to yelps as Aster cuts the head off one, and a ball of fire hits another in the side. Two more wolf-creatures leap toward Aster, who coolly plunges his sword into the closest one. Another is going for his neck, seeing the opening while the sword is occupied with its packmate.

The last one, where is it? Diane spins around, now face-to-face with a nightmarish creature. Crouched low, ready to strike, it watches her intently. One eye is a normal golden brown, the other glowing red, the only color in the oily hue covering its left side. Instinctively, Diane raises her arms in front of her, willing the blue flames to obey. To protect her.

To her surprise they do. A spike of flames shoots forward. The wolf pauses, midstep, the red eye flaring. Time stops. The world shrinks to an open maw, razor-sharp teeth, drooling dark goop. Its snarl is deafening, its breath hot, putrid like rotten flesh. Much too close.

Frozen, eyes locked with the wolf’s, Diane braces herself. One heartbeat, two, three…It leaps. Blue flames lick the creature, but it barely flinches. No! How?

A hard tug on her braid yanks her back. Snarling fangs snap shut right next to her as Aster spins her around. One hand now at the small of her back, while the other smoothly runs his sword deep into the creature’s chest. For a moment, the wolf hangs there, suspended in the air. Then the fire in its eyes fades and it slides off the blade.

“Are you alright? Did it get you?” He’s looking her up and down, searching for injuries. That should be her job.

“N– no, I’m fine.” Considering the way her voice and her knees are trembling, she’s not fine, but she tries a brave smile. “Really. You too? What are those things?”

“Dire wolves.” Aster touches one with his boot, but it doesn’t move. “They’re always dangerous, but it’s rare for them to attack humans like this.” He looks at the others, frowning. “They all have dried blood on them, so we’re not the first ones they’ve attacked today.”

“You think they killed someone?”

“Unfortunately, yes.” He coolly wipes his blade on the grass before sheathing it, but the look on his face is worried. “They came from over there. We should hurry.”

Of course. There could be survivors. Injured survivors. Diane nods grimly, she’s ready.

“Let’s go.”

It doesn’t take them long to clear the sea of grass and enter a light forest. There’s a well-used path, wide enough for them to walk, or rather run, side by side.

Diane is used to being on her feet for many hours. She might not hit the gym as often as she’d like, but she’s still in reasonably good shape, or so she thought. Walking for a full day isn’t a problem. Running, on the other hand, is a very different matter. She’s breathing hard already before they break free of the trees and come across a man-made road, surrounded by vast fields of neat lines with various crops. In the far distance, she can make out silhouettes of buildings. A thick pillar of smoke rising above them.

“Faster,” Aster picks up the speed and Diane does her best to keep up. She’s completely forgotten about the magic as she focuses on breathing and keeping her aching legs going.

It’s only when Aster grabs her arm and almost drags her along that she notices the flames are shrinking. When they finally reach the edge of what appears to be a small village, the fire’s all gone. Only her chest and throat are burning while her legs are heavy as lead. She’s never felt so drained in her entire life.

Panting, she stares at the line of bulky, mean-looking men blocking the road. One of them tightens his grip on a pitchfork and takes a step forward.

Not good.