A New Light (The Astral Wanderer Book 1) by D'Artagnan Rey (best romance ebooks txt) 📗

when he moved and something else wrapped in a black cloth attached to either side. The boy couldn’t get a good look at his face as it was obscured by his hood and the shadows from the forest.

“Well done,” the man said and lowered his hands. He had an incredibly deep voice and it rattled as he spoke like his throat was producing its own echo. “That only took you a couple of minutes. For a boy your age to not only wander into this nasty place but to fell three giant rats with little difficulty means you are very gifted.” He folded his arms and inclined his head as he stared at him. “Not to mention that you have something special with you as well.”

“Who…are you?” Devol asked hesitantly, not sure if he should lower his blade in a show of peace or hold it ready.

“Me?” the man asked and took a few steps forward—not toward him but to the center of the clearing. “I suppose today, I am something of a groundskeeper.”

Before the boy could ask him what he meant by that, he heard more breathing, this time sharper than the rats and very agitated. He spun and held his sword with both hands as he and the stranger looked toward the odd narrow extension of the clearing directly ahead of them

He saw eyes before anything else—broad, somewhat bulbous, and white. The next thing he noticed was a glint from long talons caught in one of the few beams of pure sunlight streaming into the woods. A beast stalked into the clearing. It walked hunched on all fours and stepped over the branches and bones.

When it stopped several feet away from them, it leaned upon two angled legs and stood easily at over seven feet tall. A long, curved maw held thin, spike-like teeth and pale, ashen colored scales covered its flesh. It extended its sinewy arms and its long claws moved closer to them.

“A flayer?” Devol asked quietly and steadied his hands after a moment of surprise at the sight of it. This one was much larger than the bones at the museum had led him to believe them to be.

“Indeed, and an alpha at that,” the stranger stated. He removed the gourd from his belt and took a quick sip before he replaced it. “Although that may be by default. It seems only a few flayers take refuge in these woods at a time and quickly eliminate the others who are weaker. They aren’t particularly good neighbors, even with their kin.”

As if in response to the comments, the beast’s head twitched from side to side and it clicked its teeth together a couple of times before it uttered a loud, shrill shriek. The boy gritted his teeth rather than trying to cover his ears. He would prefer to not let his guard down at this moment.

“Think you can take it?” his odd companion asked and fixed him with what might have been a challenging look.

He broke his determined gaze briefly to glance at him with an exasperated expression. “I’d rather not,” he admitted and braced his legs in preparation for either fight or flight. “But even with my Mana, I don’t think I can outrun it. So if it comes to it, I will fight.” He focused on the spindly creature again and his sword began to glow as if to corroborate his words.

The stranger chuckled, unfolded his arms, and motioned for him to lower his blade. “I admire your resilience and your courage, but you can try your hand at it some other time.” He proceeded to walk forward toward the creature with what seemed like suicidal calm.

Devol almost dropped his blade in his panic. “Wait, don’t!”

The flayer shrieked again as it lunged at the man, its front limbs stretched to either side. The arms moved together toward his head so fast that Devol could barely comprehend its speed. Unperturbed by the fact that he was about to be beheaded in moments, the stranger ducked quickly, and the massive curved talons missed his neck and each other. The trace of wind created by their passing dislodged the man’s hood as he placed one finger under the flayer’s chin at the point where the creature’s head and neck met. “Bolt.”

In a moment, a red arrow made of Mana pierced its head and protruded at a point where it looked like it came out of the man’s fingertip. The beast seized instantly and gurgled for a moment as its attacker stepped to the side and let it fall to the earth with a loud thud.

The boy was speechless, not only at the sight of the terrifying creature felled so quickly and casually but at finally seeing the man, if that was what he was. His skin was as dark as ink but with white markings around his eyes, the curves of his ears, and the bridge of his nose. Devol couldn’t tell if it was some kind of paint or natural. He had narrow eyes—silver like his but with no irises—and his long, thin alabaster hair was tied into a bun. Something was different about it, though, and it looked more like twine than healthy hair strands. He looked at his young companion, amusement on his face when he saw his bewildered expression.

“Their scales offer them some defense against blades and the like, but the flesh on the underside of their head is surprisingly thin.” The stranger held his gaze and grinned. “Why so surprised, my friend?” he asked and slid his index finger and thumb under his chin as he observed him. His slightly pointed teeth were more noticeable when his grin turned to a smile. “Have you never seen a mori before?”

“A mori?” the boy asked, his blade in his hand but pointed toward the earth. “You’re a realmer?”

“Indeed, and from the sounds of it, you haven’t seen one before, have you?” the man asked and took another sip from his gourd.

Devol shook his head.