Chaos erupted in the village. The boar crashed through some of the houses as it followed the spectral creature's frantic flight pattern. Village folk ran out of their homes and started to gather in the village's center, hoping not to cross paths with the beast’s sharp tusks.

Everyone in Meisla’s house had gone outside to see the source of the noise. Yoviene pulled out her sword and rushed over to her horse at the side of the house to grab a buckler from her bag. Bronson went as well and took out his large steel battle-ax. Sylvar had his two daggers sheathed on his legs. Meisla also brought out her bow and a quiver half full of arrows when her father wasn’t looking. Yoviene groaned loudly as she saw the opened cage and the rubble of a house nearby. They spotted Denlo on the ground staring at the boar’s cage, horrified.

“What in Minthea’s name happened, boy!? Renlo yelled at Denlo, quickly walking over to his son and pulling him up from the ground.

The young man turned to his father and said in a low whisper, “It was the Mage. He did something to the boar and unlocked its cage.”

“Is the Mage still around here?” Yoviene asked, scanning the area.

“No… He ran off when he saw me, and then your boar started rampaging.” Denlo slowly replied.

“A shy one then? We’ll deal with him later. Bronson, Sylvar, we need to subdue the boar long enough for Gaerra to recast her spell on it before it destroys the entire village. Let’s move!” Yoviene shouted at her companions, and they all ran off toward crashing noises in the distance.

As Gaerra followed them from behind, Meisla overheard the elven woman muttering to herself, “I can still feel the spell. What happened?”

As the adventurers rushed into the fray, villagers crowded around their leader.

“Chief, what’s going on?”

“Why is that creature running about?"

“My house!”

People spoke all at once to Renlo.

Not wanting to waste the opportunity, Meisla quickly followed behind the Yoviene’s group.

Meisla felt giddy as she followed them.

Is this how Varlo felt when he went to war. A hero coming to save the day and protect the things you care about? She thought. Varlo always helped the other villagers out whenever he could.

Born with the blessing of earth like their father, Varlo cared about others, especially his siblings. Meisla remembered the time he taught her how to hunt. He even made the bow she’s using now for her 12th birthday. Varlo was even brave enough to rescue someone who was captured by one of the beasts in Darlocke Forest years ago when the Mage had sent one out for whatever evil deeds he had planned.

Everyone in the village cheered him on that day for his bravery. Even their father beamed with pride. Meisla wanted to feel that feeling of being recognized as a hero.

As Meisla joined the group, Bronson turned to her and said, “I’m not sure you should be with us, miss. If it was able to leave a mark on me, it could take a chunk out of you!” he pointed at the scar on his head for emphasis.

“I can take of myself. I did say that I am the best hunter in the village.” She replied firmly while holding up her bow. Meisla felt her heart beating rapidly but still managed to keep a straight face.

“So, you say.” Sylvar chuckled as they continued forward.

As they follow the boar’s trail of destruction, Meisla wiggled her nose as she noticed the tufts of hair on the ground and around the rubble of some of the houses.

“Is it normal for the boar to shed this much?” She asked the group.

Yoviene, still looking forward, responded to the girl with a grumble, “So the person who sold it to me said.”

“You don’t seem too happy about it?”

“He claimed it's a side effect of all the breeding. The boar is a strong creature, but it’s the weaker one of the litter. The trader sold it to me for cheap, so I can’t complain too much. I have been traveling with it for a while, and it’s still kicking, so that’s a good sign.”

Meisla imagined a far more fearsome older sibling to the already frightening boar. If that one was weak, what would a healthier one be like? Before Meisla had the chance to ask further, Yoviene stopped and held her free hand in the air. The group paused, and the woman pointed at a house. They could hear the creature rummaging inside.

“I’ll lead Gaerra from the front towards the beast so she can use her magic to calm it down. Bronson and Sylvar, both of you surround it from the side and back in case it tries to run off.” Yoviene said to her party. All of them nodded in agreement and started to move toward the house.

“What can I do to help?” Meisla asked, not wanting to be left out.

Yoviene turned to the girl and replied, “Just stay in the back with that bow, don’t go for the eyes. I still need it to see its target. Some arrows in the hide shouldn’t hurt it too much.”

Meisla smiled and nodded eagerly, and the party started again to move toward the house. She was glad that Yoviene wasn’t looking down at her or turning her away because of her age. Meisla felt a kind of camaraderie to the adventurer when they looked at each other. An understanding to not let either’s passion or desires to getaway.

Does Yoviene have the blessing of fire like me?

“Please be careful. Things can get dangerous, pretty fast.” Gaerra whispered to Meisla. “You and Yoviene may have the blessing of fire, but she has a lot more experience than you, so keep that in mind.”

Meisla blushed with embarrassment. Has she and her other elven companion been reading my mind the entire time!?

“I’m sorry,” Gaerra giggled as they get closer to the house, “I haven’t been away from my home for long like Sylvar. Elves are used to reading each other’s minds frequently. It’s easy to forget that other people are not so open about it.”

Meisla knew from Famma, her smelly yet informative teacher, that the elves had no secrets between each other since the blessing of mind allowed them to communicate with thoughts rather than words. The girl wondered what kind of society with no secrets was like. Since Gaerra read minds, could she tell Meisla what is going in Denlo’s brooding mind? A whistling noise placed Meisla back into reality. She saw Yoviene standing in front of the broken wall with Gaerra behind her as her two male companions carefully stepped inside the ruined home.

The boar was shuffling around in the center of the house, looking up at the ceiling, panting, and drooling happily. Black hair from its matted fur covered the floor. Thankfully, the occupants of the home appeared to be far away. The beast was oblivious to their presence as Yoviene, Bronson, and Sylvar drew their weapons. Meisla still stood outside. She pulled out an arrow and prepared to draw her bow. Yoviene held up her sword defensively as she inched closer to the boar with Gaerra directly behind her.

The elven woman reached her hands out and began whispering as she has done before, and the white aura surrounded her once again. As Gaerra casted her spell on the creature, it paused for a moment, its dark eyes beginning to dull.

The blessing of mind, Elven magic, was like weaving a tapestry. To elves, the mind became theirs to manipulate how they wished. However, it was intricate and delicate work. Brains are fragile, and for animals, that was no different. Gaerra grimaced as she used her magic and felt her prior spell on the boar. It had been torn and rewoven into a simple crude command.

Such rudimentary work was a simple fix to Gaerra. She adjusted the boar's dream back to its original function of the boar as a young piglet with its mother in its homeland. She smiled as she began to let go of the boar’s mind and said to the group, “It’s done.”

Meisla breathed a sigh of relief, although disappointment washed over her at the lack of a heroic fight that did not ensue. Bronson and Sylvar relaxed their stances as they got closer to the docile creature. Suddenly a bright flash of light and a wave of energy washed over the group. Gaerra could feel her spell changing, but unlike her’s the magic was crass and destructive. The boar unleashed an ear-shattering howl of pain as the magic tore through its mind.

Yoviene pushed the defenseless elf further back closer to Meisla as she held up her buckler as the boar crashed into her. The sturdy shield managed to mitigate most of the damage, leaving the warrior feeling slightly shaken but not worse for wear. Yoviene smacked the beast in its head. If magic wasn’t getting anywhere, then a good ole smack in the head will get it right. She hit the boar, and a loud Whack echoed through the ruined house. The beast howled in pain as it stopped and twisted its head back and forth; the spot where the shield struck it became swollen. Meisla took advantage of the opportunity, pulling back the arrow on her bow and firing at the boar, aiming for its body. The arrow shot forward and hit. The boar simply grunted. Meisla face sunk low as she saw the arrowhead sticking out and only partially piercing the skin. The boar gave another shake as it turned to face the archer. The arrow fell to the ground, and the beast charged straight for Meisla. Fear overtook the girl, and she feels her feet are firmly rooted in the ground, trembling. Bronson jumped in and blocked the boar’s path, his ax blocking its sharp tusks before it can even touch her. Meisla saw red trickling down his flexing arms as he kept the monster at bay. Bronson clenched his teeth, trying to ignore the stinging pain.

“I’m sorry,” Meisla said in a low whisper, the reality of the situation starting to become apparent to the girl.

“Gaerra, what happened with your spell!?” Bronson asked as the boar struggled against the man holding its sharp tusks down to the ground.

“I…I don’t know! Whoever changed my spell must still be around here somewhere.” Gaerra shouted frantically over the boar’s loud grunts.

Meisla and Yoviene glanced back and forth outside but didn't notice anyone in the area. Yoviene looked back inside the house and saw Sylvar looking up at the wall.

“Why are you lazing about Sylvar!?” Yoviene shouted at the man.

He continued looking up at the wall, holding up one of his daggers, and said, “There’s something up there.” Sylvar threw the dagger at the wall, and everyone could see a faint glowing figure fluttering through the air. A construct of light in the shape of a butterfly.

Gaerra and Sylvar both felt a familiar yet foreign magical energy.

“That thing must be what’s corrupting the spell!” Sylvar shouted, throwing his other dagger at the construct. The butterfly dodged the weapon with a graceful flutter of its wing, and Sylvar's dagger hit the wall and fell to the ground near its twin.

“We got to destroy that thing,” Yoviene grumbled to herself.

Meisla pouted for being forgotten. A surge of energy flowed through her as the opportunity to contribute to the situation presented itself again to her. Meisla ran past Bronson, who was still struggling against the hairy beast but slowly losing the battle. She began to pull the arrow back on her bow as she looked at the glowing butterfly now floating idly in the air.

Meisla fired. The construct jerked itself to the side and dodged. It started to glow more brightly, and behind her, Meisla heard the boar howling in pain as it started to struggle harder against Bronson.

“I can’t hold it for much longer… Hurry!” He yelled, adrenaline still making him able to hold his own.

Meisla starts hearing a loud Thump. Thump. Thump. Another beast was joining the fray. She heard it again. Thump. Thump. Thump. No, it was her heart.

If I miss, that man will die. It’ll be my fault. She thought, shakily taking another arrow and pulling it back. She shot at it again—the butterfly once again gracefully dodged and glowed brightly once more. Meisla could hear Bronson screaming in pain. The boar shook with abandon trying to escape from the man’s grasp. Its tusks sliced more cuts onto Bronson’s arms.

“C’mon, girl! I thought you were supposed to be the best in the village! You can’t even shoot down a fake insect!” Yoviene shouted as she ran to help Bronson hold the boar back. Her face was sweating now in fear of the possibility of killing off her investment.

Sylvar rolled his eyes as he grabbed his daggers from the other side of the house, “A child shouldn’t have come here getting involved in something she has no business in.” He muttered loud enough for her to hear. He started to find something to elevate himself close enough to destroy the construct.

Yoviene continued yelling at the girl as Meisla pulled out another arrow. Her heart sank further into her as insults are thrown at her. Her hands shook the bow and arrow as the yelling, and the beast’s roaring overwhelmed the girl. She closed her eyes.

Meisla knew she shouldn’t. Her body seemed to react on its own as if stone was coursing through her veins and turning her body into a statue. It was all she can do other than curl in the ground and cry about her foolish attempt at playing a hero.

Focus Meisla. A familiar voice called out to her.

Open your eyes and listen to my voice. Meisla snapped her eyes open, and she can hear nothing but the voice.

“Varlo?” She whispered, a tear crawling down her face.

You must focus, Meisla. You can do this.

“I…I ca-

Don’t say you can’t. I have never known my little sister to give up. Remember when you spent all night trying to split Rozo’s bullseye when you were still getting used to your bow? And finally split it at the crack of dawn. You CAN do this. Just relax.

Meisla remembered that ordeal. Rozo was the first kid in their group to make a bullseye when Meisla bragged about being the first one to do it. Rozo mocked her the entire day. She remembered the frustration and wanting to sleep as she failed to hit his arrow, but something within her kept her outside and enveloped her freezing body with warmth.

That same feeling entered her body again, rising from her chest and coursing through her head and feet. Instead of a dull warmth, it was an intense burning sensation, but Meisla did not feel pain. It galvanized the girl. Meisla moved her body and made a stronger stance as she pulled an arrow out, ready to fire. She stared directly at the construct, feeling the fiery energy within her moving and focusing on her right arm holding the arrow back. A moment passed. Meisla fired, seeing a streak of bright red instead of the dull brown of the arrow.

The arrow struck a wing of the fake butterfly, and a loud shattering sound echoed throughout the area. Meisla eyes widened. I couldn’t destroy it. I failed.

“You did it!” Gaerra shouted happily.

Meisla gasped and looked closer at the light construct and noticed a flame around the broken wing spreading all over the false creature. A sound like someone stepping on glass was made as the butterfly disintegrated out of existence.

The boar suddenly stopped its onslaught against Bronson and began to calm down. Gaerra immediately started to weave her spell properly. As soon as the beast stopped completely, Bronson collapsed on the ground and bellowed out a long groan.

Yoviene rolled her eyes as she sheathed her sword and said, “Such a baby.” The woman looked over at Meisla, “Good work, girl. Had me worried for a minute, but you live up to your blessing.”

Meisla smiled at the recognition and looked over to Sylvar, who simply gave her a nod. Gaerra ran up to Meisla, giving her a warm embrace.

“Sylvar thought that was really cool what you did there,” the woman whispered to her. They both chuckled before Meisla went over to check on Bronson.

“Are you hurt pretty bad?” She asked the man.

“Ahh, nothing I’m not used to,” Bronson said, wincing in pain as the air touched his wounds.

“I’m sorry it took me so long to destroy that thing,” Meisla said, still staring at Bronson’s wounds.

The large man held his arms out and smiled at Meisla, “You did pretty well! Don’t worry about these; they come with the territory. I’ll recover in time. I will be better, though, if someone tends to my wounds though. There wouldn’t happen to be a healer in the village?”

“Yes! Elder Canno has the blessing of water and knows some healing spells! He can heal you up fast!”

“Good. Hurry up and take him to the elder,” Yoviene said, walking outside and looking at the setting sun. Her brows scrunched together, and her face was a mix of anger and annoyance. She turned and addressed the rest of the group, “Everyone, take this time to rest and prepare. We’re going into the forest and taking that mage’s head."

“You don’t want to wait until tomorrow, Yoviene?” Gaerra asked despite already knowing her leader’s answer.

“No. We're sticking to the plan. I want this over with as quickly as possible. I hate it when people mess with my things. I don’t care if he was able to go toe to toe with a Goddess. The Mage dies tonight.”