The magus market of Nightshade Hollow bustled with chaotic energy, its narrow alleys lined with stalls brimming with strange items, tables laden with glowing crystals, vials of iridescent potions, and caged creatures that hissed and snapped.
A handsome, long-haired boy with snake-like amber eyes strode through the crowd, his black robes flowing like liquid shadow, their hems embroidered with faint silver runes that pulsed with latent power.
Leylin, now cloaked in an alias, moved in market finding his way towards the exit.
It's been a month since his Essence Transmutation, rewritting his very existence, from changing his bloodline, to appearance, and soul signature, rendering him a ghost to the Academy's Enforcement Squad who are unable to trace him.
At the market's exit, a burly guard in green robe waved, his voice a jovial shout, warm with familiarity as he leaned against gatepost, his beard flecked with a thin forst from his icy breath, "Yo, Harry! You're coming too frequently, mate. Must be tiring, running back and forth, experimenting blindly without mentors, especially with your profession!"
Leylin, now known as Harry, flashed a disarming smile, his amber eyes glinting with a serpentine charm, "It's alright, Eric. I knew what I was getting into."
Eric scratched his beard, his voice a earnest plea, heavy with concern as he stepped closer, Leylin could feel his cold icy breath which was probably a result of experiment, "Listen, Harry, your talent in potionerring's pretty damn good. Why not think about my offer? The Cruz family would welcome you warmly into their ranks. You'd have seniors, resources, everything a potioneer needs."
"I appreciate it, Eric, but I'm good." Leylin's smile didn't waver, but his voice was a polite, firm refusal.
Leylin turned, his black robes swirling, and stepped beyond the gate, the market's clamor fading behind him, as he left Nightshade Hollow's chaos for the open road.
"You're just being stubborn, but suit yourself." Eric waved a dismissive hand, his voice a gruff mutter, as he watched Harry's retreating figure.
Leylin walked for an hour along a winding path, the Fimmer forest unfolding in a tapestry of rocky outcrops and sparse, thorny shrubs, the air carrying the faint, earthy scent of dust and distant rain.
His amber eyes darted, sharp with paranoia, as he cast a detection spell, scanning for tails. "Oculus Veritas."
Leylin's hands were glowing faintly, the spell revealing no followers, the plains empty save for the wind's low moan.
Taking a series of sharp turns through a maze of boulders, he reached a hidden cave, its mouth veiled by illusion runes, his heart easing with the familiarity of his sanctuary.
Within the cave, Leylin's secret base hummed with arcane energy, its makeshift experiment hall a chaotic symphony of magic and science.
A large cauldron dominated the center, its iron surface etched with runes, bubbling with a viscous green liquid that emitted a sharp, citrusy tang, wisps of steam curling like specters, the air thick with the scent of alchemy gone wild.
Shelves lined the walls, cluttered with animal parts—griffon talons, wyrm scales, a phoenix feather glowing faintly—alongside vials of potions in every hue, from sapphire blue to blood red, their labels scrawled in Leylin's precise hand.
Bizarre ingredients littered a workbench: Moonshade Root, its tendrils still twitching; Viper's Tear Crystal, pulsing with a soft light; Ghoulbloom Petals, reeking of decay; and Starfall Ore, shimmering like a captured night sky.
Leylin took out Book of Giant Serpent lay it open on a stone table, its pages turned to a rune-crafting diagram, while the Void White-Eyed Snake escaped from his sleeves and coiled nearby, its black scales glinting, its silver runes shimmering, its white eyes fixed on Leylin with a familiar gaze, it's has warmed up to Leylin since his transmutation, as if recognizing him as one of its own, a Kemoyin heir.
Leylin settled his purchases—Moonshade Root, Viper's Tear Crystal, and Ghoulbloom Petals on the workbench.
Leylin glanced at the Void White-Eyed Snake. "You've been bored lately, haven't you?"
"Ever since the transmutation, I can feel your emotions, it's like you see me as kin, but you're still wary."
The snake's tongue flicked, its gaze unyielding, but Leylin's voice was gentle, "Although it's a shame you don't talk, Abigail was a talker she liked gossiping."
"Anyways, tonight is a special day. My wand broke fighting the Black Horrall Snake, you know. I'm crafting a new one now a middle-grade magical artifact, maybe it can even reach high-grade with my alchemy mastery and research in the future."
Leylin mind locked on the bubbling cauldron. "I need your help, little guy," he said, his hands gesturing to the workbench.
"Give me two Duskveil Blossoms and Crimson Lotus from your garden, and the Black Horrall Snake's corpse."
The snake hissed softly, its white eyes narrowing, but it complied, a ripple of silver light producing the flowers—dark purple Duskveil Blossoms, their petals edged with shadow, and a fiery Crimson Lotus, its core glowing like an ember alongside the massive, coiled corpse of the Black Horrall Snake, its scales dull but heavy with latent power.
In the past month, Leylin as a warlock has relearned spell models, adapting them to his Kemoyin bloodline, and honed his potionerring.
Soon after arranging everything in proper order and reviewing the notes and Book of Giant Serpent, Leylin began the wand crafting.
Initially he started by grounding the Black Horrall Snake's spine, its vertebrae crunching under a runed pestle, the bone powder shimmering with a faint, ghostly light, the air filling with the scent of marrow and decay.
Leylin then processed the Duskveil Blossoms, steeping them in a vial of Starfall Ore extract, the petals dissolving into a midnight-blue elixir, its surface rippling with shadow, his practiced hands steady as he added Ghoulbloom Petal essence, stabilizing the mixture, the air humming with the potion's potency.
The Crimson Lotus followed, crushed in a mortar with Viper's Tear Crystal, heated over a rune-fueled flame plate until it formed a fiery red tincture, its glow pulsing like a heartbeat, the workbench vibrating faintly.
He then poured the two potions into the cauldron, the green liquid hissing as the blue and red streams mingled, the air thick with the scent of shadow and flame.
Leylin proceeded to add a part of the Black Horrall Snake's heart essence, its crimson ichor dripping like molten wax, the cauldron's contents swirling violently.
He sprinkled the grinded spine powder, its ghostly light sparking as it sank, then pricked his finger, letting two drops of blood fall—one from his Kemoyin form, dark and thick, the other from his Branded Swordsman form, bright and metallic—the cauldron roaring with a surge of power, the air crackling with his spiritual force.
"Hisem Shanin Yumpin.." Leylin's voice was a low murmur, as he lifted a dead seven-month fetus, its form preserved in a huge jar, born under the seventh moon, its aura steeped in auspicious magic.
He dropped the dead fetus into the cauldron, the liquid swallowing it with a sickening gurgle, the air growing colder, heavier, the workbench trembling.
He began a long incantation, his voice rising in a rhyming chant, its cadence a dark hymn that echoed through the cave, each syllable dripping with power:
"By lord's decree, I call thy slave,
Black Horrall, rise from shadowed grave.
In wrath's embrace, my fury wakes,
Great Kemoyin, thy will remakes.
With sin of seven, moon's dark bloom,
An infant's soul, in seventh womb,
Forge wand of bone, my rage to send,
Thy servant's might shall never bend."
The chant filled the hall, the cauldron's liquid boiling over, the air thick with the scent of blood and fire, the Book of Giant Serpent's pages fluttering stirred by the wind.
Leylin activated the runes on the floor, their ancient script painted in vibrant hues—crimson, indigo, gold slithering like serpents, shrinking and spiraling into the cauldron, the liquid bubbling furiously, the air crackling with a storm of arcane energy, the cave trembling as if the earth itself recoiled.
*Boom!!* *Boom!!*
A series of explosions rocked the cauldron, sparks of shadow and flame erupting amidst Leylin's incantation, his voice a fierce, unyielding roar, alive with triumph as he poured spells into the mixture.
From within the cauldron's chaos, a bone wand emerged, its surface pale and smooth, etched with runes that glowed with a dark, fiery light, its form radiating a malevolent power.
Leylin grabbed the wand, feeling it's cold surface as he whispered, "I will call you, Wrath Wand."
"It'll channel my fury upon all who dare oppose me."
*Crack* *Crack*
A sudden clicking broke the silence, his eyebrows furrowed, as he reached into his robes, his hands retrieving a badge, its blue skull clicking its jaw, its sapphire eyes glinting with a faint light, the air humming with its message.
Leylin crushed the badge in his fist, its fragments crumbling to dust.
"Dorotte's back at the Academy."