Instructor Antheol was growing worried. He had sent two promising students on a small task to the Village of Fair-breeze. They were to deliver a number of his personal affects to his lodgings in the village.
His students had begged him for the opportunity to go out and see Eversong, to go to the village and handle simple errands for him. After they bugged him for nearly two days he finally relented.
Then they failed to return.
He had been angered at first, at their lateness, Ralen and Meledor where good students, and likely to accomplish his task even if the road proved dangerous, but they had a tendency to play around, especially with one another.
If they hadn't worked so well together in battle he would never have sent them at the same time. At first he had assumed they saw a woman, and like the children they were, panted after her long enough for their instructor to notice.
The little shits always seemed to be looking for their next lay.
He had waited, teaching the other apprentices the basics of the Arcane, expecting them to come back at any moment, sheepishly trying to avoid a taste from his disciplinary rod.
As the hours flew past his anger was replaced by worry. Where were they? Had they been hurt?
With the Scourge around the dead scar thinning out by the day the danger on the roads had been reduced to nothing more than wild beasts and the occasional Wretched bandit.
Things an apprentice, especially two talented ones, could normally face without issue.
When his worry reached it's height he pushed his mana into the scrying orb he carried, locking onto the robes they wore.
On the first day all his students had joined his tutelage he etched some enchantments on the robes they wore to better find his students when they got rambunctious and started to frolic around.
One set of robes was on the road between Fairbreeze and Still-whisper, unmoving, and the other was approaching, but at a slow pace, as if weighed down.
Or Wounded. Antheol felt a cold chill flow through his spine. He turned to his student's, who had been making quite a showing of talent, channeling arcane into fireballs against several dummies he had earlier set up.
"Class is dismissed, return to Silvermoon. I have business to attend to." It would serve no one to have them grow worried, or arrogant. If there was something in these woulds that was a danger to them it was something he needed to investigate thoroughly.
He walked down the road at his words, ignoring his students questions and shooing them away with a gesture. When they were out of sight his casual stride became a sprint.
If his orb was correct Meledor should be only a few moments away!
He ran down the road, his past as a warrior giving him the stamina he needed to keep pace. He ran through the golden path, listening as the enchanted woods around him grew quiter, and the smell of blood struck his nose.
The sight that he was met with made his blood run cold. His student, just a child of eighteen, stumbled, bloody and ragged down the path.
With a small application of mana he blinked across the distance between them, appearing in an instant before his charge.
"Meledor! Are you alright? What happened?"
His student looked up at him with delirious eyes, Fire sparked in the boys hands at his sudden appearance,before it puttered out and he tripped, tumbling forward and into his arms.
"Instructor? Is that you?" His voice was frightened, and delirious.
A glance revealed a massive wound on the boys chest, bleeding out onto his robes. A gash revealing a sizable portion of the child's rib-cage. He grimaced at the sight, gently laying his student on the ground.
"It's me, Meledor, it's alright." He wasn't one for words, but he tried to reassure the boy.
His student relaxed in his arms, going limp as whatever mixture of desperate will to live and adrenaline that had been fueling him began to fade away.
His hands pressed onto his charges wound, desperately trying to stop the bleeding. He began tearing strips off his robes, fastening them around the wound.
He worked to the best of his ability, ignoring his students cries of pain as he did. It would hurt, but It may well save his life.
"It was Felendren. They attacked while we were crossing a bridge, destroying our cart." Meledor wheezed out, before grasping onto his robe.
"The wretched came out of nowhere, stealing whatever was left, we tried to stop them, but as we did one of them began casting at us with strange magics. It was the one who killed those guards, the one on the posters."
Felendren the Banished? So the wretch was still alive. Even worse he was attacking children now? This was unacceptable.
"Ralen?" He feared he already knew the answer to that question.
Tears welled in Meledor's eyes."Felendren did something to him, after Ralen and I tried to fight them back he burned us with some kind of lightning, before dragging him off with the Wretched."
Antheol gritted his teeth. This transgression would not go unanswered. But first...
"Come with me child, we'll see your wounds tended to."
His sanctum in Whisperwind had potions inside that he had for when someone was fool enough to wound themselves. He gathered Meledor up, supporting his weight as they moved down the road.
A torrent of anger filled him as he worked to save his students life. Felendren would be punished.