Grand Fantasy: A Strange New World

Silverfang felt like he was floating, drifting through the eternal night that plagued his unconscious mind. His large, bulky form was curled into a fetal position, and his steel grey fur seemed to move as if he were underwater. It wasn’t long before he cracked open one of his golden eyes to peer out into his mindscape. Like most mortals, his mental plane was an amorphous place from some old memory. His own mindscape was still somewhat sharper than most, a small hill looking over an expansive field of amber grains. He was now leaning against a massive tree that crowned the old hill; acorns could be seen littering the ground around him. He was much younger now, still not an adult in the eyes of his pack. He felt a pressure on his right shoulder and another on his left leg. The pressure on his shoulder was that of a young human girl, her golden blond hair was blowing gently in the wind. The pressure on his leg was that of a goblin child, no older than twelve. His cropped, blazing red hair greatly contrasted to his olive skin. The goblin’s bulbous nose twitched as if he was inhaling the scent of some ethereal feast.

Silverfang smiled. This was one of his fondest memories before the Empire invaded the Wild Lands, a large expanse that belonged to the non-human races of Rathia. He could feel something tugging at the back of his mind, something he knew he needed to do, yet the memory made all of his worries fade away. His comrades were safe. The tugging was far more insistent. That was right, his comrades weren’t safe. They needed him to rescue them, but the problem was how?

Silverfang slowly regained consciousness, a groan escaping his matted muzzle. He was chained down onto the floor in a darkly lit room; the torches on the walls gave off a strange purple color. Magefyre… He thought. I must be in some sort of laboratory. He groaned again as his body rebelled against his slight movements. He turned his head as slowly as possible to look at the large runic circle that surrounded him. He wasn’t much for magic, but he recognized some of the symbols. This was a banishment circle.

“I see you are finally awake old friend…” An aged voice greeted from the dark recesses of the room. A somewhat tall human walked into the light, revealing his ancient features. He wore a regal burgundy and gold outfit and a small golden crown atop his wrinkled brow. He no longer had any hair on his head, but his beard more than made up for it. The old man had three perpendicular scars on his left cheek, it still looked somewhat fresh. This man was the Mage Emperor himself, Nathael the Fierce.

“I am no friend of yours tyrant.” Silverfang replied coldly. Despite how young Silver would look to a human, he was almost as old as the Emperor.

“Tsk, tsk… Did that bitch of a mother ever teach you to respect your elders?” The Emperor retorted. Silver knew that Nathael was trying to insult his mother, yet the term ‘bitch’ was a common word to his people. Silverfang growled as menacingly as his pained body would allow. “I should have to punish you for that.” Lightning erupted from the sigil the Emperor drew in the air. Pain lanced through Silver’s body as his back arched and he roared.

The old emperor only laughed as the smell of ozone filled the dank room. “Don’t worry Lycan, I won’t kill you. I have something much more special in mind for you” The malevolent tone in the emperor’s voice just seemed to drool from his mouth. “I am going to test a new type of magic on you. By combining a Banishing circle with Runes of Teleportation, I theorize that you will be thrown across the realms of creation.” Nathael grinned madly, his eyes sparkling with hidden, homicidal thoughts. “You won’t die at first, instead you will watch from afar as I slowly crush your measly resistance force. It is said that those who go to the outer realms gain extraordinary abilities. Too bad you won’t be able to use them against me!”

Silver could feel the circle heat up and start to glow around him. No, NO! He wouldn’t accept this. He can’t accept this ultimate defeat! Not while the others needed him to rescue them! The magic grew stronger, the air around Silverfang felt oppressive, almost as if it were compacting him into a single point.

“I WILL BE BACK NATHAEL! NO MATTER WHAT HORRORS I FACE , I WILL RETURN TO DESTROY YOU!” The Lycan roared at the ancient human. “WITH THE MOON GODDESS AS MY WITNESS, I WILL DESTRO-“

Silverfang was cut off as the magic took effect and he disappeared in a large flash of dark flames. The magic was fading from the room and the temporary portal disappeared completely. “I will hold you to it…

Old friend…”

((AN: I know that I had said that I wanted to get into Broken Horn a little more before starting this, but I was hit with the large, wooden bat of inspiration. Once I started writing, I just couldn't stop!))