Einar : The forsaken

The Elfin council, in their solemn decree, had deemed me worthy of an ensemble for THE HUNT.

It bore an uncanny resemblance to the military garb of my former existence, albeit bereft of the ornate insignia and superfluous embellishments.

A somber black ensemble, tailored for the exigencies of combat, it accompanied two daggers, each imbued with the essence of mana, intended to aid me in the extermination of the sorceress.

As I neared the completion of my preparations, Zuria burst into the chamber, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"You need not undertake this," she implored, her voice laced with concern.

"But I must," I countered, my resolve unwavering.

"Why?" she demanded, her inquiry trailing off as I strode past her, exiting the chamber.

A rather inane query, if you ask me. I spared her a fleeting glance. "For my freedom," I declared, and promptly vanished from her sight.

My father had always instilled in me the paramount importance of understanding one's adversary before embarking on any pursuit. Thus, I embarked on a quest to glean information from the afflicted, concurrently investigating the locales where the insidious black mist had been sighted.

Ten such locations were identified. While they exhibited no discernible pattern, I remained undeterred, a cunning stratagem already formulating in my mind.

In my interrogation of the victims, a recurring motif emerged: each had witnessed a spectral figure preceding the descent of the mist.

"Could it be the sorceress herself?" I mused, ceaselessly scrutinizing the situation, attempting to piece together the enigmatic puzzle.

The collected data revealed the following:

* All victims succumbed to an enigmatic malady, a consequence of the pernicious mist.

* All victims reported witnessing a spectral apparition before the onset of the affliction.

* And perhaps most crucially, none had ever perceived the sorceress's mana, not even a fleeting glimpse.

Could she be cloaked by an enchantment of concealment? At this juncture, I felt as though I were chasing phantoms, a futile pursuit. To compound the urgency, time was rapidly slipping away.

As the sun relinquished its dominion to the encroaching night, I established a vigil atop a hill overlooking the kingdom. The panorama that unfolded before me was a spectacle of unparalleled beauty.

The harmonious interplay of lights and nature, intertwined with the exquisite artistry of Elven architecture, was truly a breathtaking sight.

I poured myself a libation of tea, savoring each sip as my gaze swept across the kingdom below. The celestial bodies seemed to burn brighter here than in my homeland. Under different circumstances, this would have been an evening of tranquility.

"A spectacle of beauty, is it not?" I remarked, my voice cutting through the stillness, directed towards the sorceress, foolishly assuming I remained undetected.

She materialized from the depths of my shadow, her voice a silken whisper, "Indeed, it is."

She maintained a prudent distance, clearly apprehensive of provoking my ire.

"Greetings, sorceress," I acknowledged, continuing to partake of my tea before offering her a portion.

"Hmm," she responded, a beguiling smile gracing her lips, a smile that held an undercurrent of menace.

"A most peculiar lad, are you not?" she observed, settling beside me.

I remained silent, my focus on the tea, though my awareness was acutely attuned to her presence.

The Sorceress of Shadows.