Shadow, the Menace

On high alert, he took a cautious step back toward his horse, his eyes darting around for any hint of movement. He could sense they were close, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Frustration bubbled up inside him. This 16-year-old body just wasn't cutting it for his big plans. He needed more strength, better control over his magical abilities. But in this tight spot, creating a magical core was out of the question – a setback that irked him to no end.

But hey, at least he had his brain and memories from before. Using all four basic elements was a breeze, something he was pretty sure no other kid his age could pull off. Now, all he needed to do was crack the code on that elusive mana core thing and beef up this scrawny body.

His instincts went on high alert as he sensed movement on the ground. In a split second, he lunged towards his horse, brandishing his knife in a defensive arc. The horse whinnied and leaped back, just as a thorny vine shot up from the soil. With a deft swipe, the blade of his knife obliterated the threat, leaving nothing but a puff of earth in its wake.

"Time to slip into those shiny new shoes and make a run for it, kid. Let the damsel and the bard deal with their own mess," a voice sneered, its echoes weaving through the trees like the entire forest had decided to join in on the banter.

The eerie feeling of being watched evaporated in an instant. He stayed on high alert, unsure if the danger had truly passed. After a deep sigh, he grumbled, "An Earth mage, seriously? Just my luck in this messed-up place."

He ambled over to the horse, giving it a reassuring pat. "Easy there, Shadow. It's all good now, buddy."

The first light of the morning star stumbled through the woods, and he couldn't be more thankful for the increasing brightness. Tracking things in the dark? His tracking skills were akin to a blindfolded kitten trying to locate a toy mouse. Attempting it without any light? Well, that was akin to expecting a squirrel to tackle algebra.

"What now?" he muttered to himself, his thoughts resembling a chaotic jumble of uncertainty. He knew what he wanted to do, but there was this nagging voice in the back of his head, persistent like an annoying gnat, questioning the whole damn thing.

Were those two strangers truly worth the effort? Risking life and limb for individuals he'd only crossed paths with moments ago? After all, even his own wife and supposed best friends had shown their true colors, leaving him disillusioned with the concept of loyalty.

He shook his head, trying to dispel his doubts. "Come on, Shadow, let's go find our master, shall we?"

But the horse merely regarded him with a questioning gaze, silently asking, "Are you certain about this?" In that moment, Azrael felt as though he was being judged by his own steed, and the sensation unsettled him. Not one bit.

"Come on, pal, they're not worth the trouble. Remember, they're the ones who caused all this chaos. The tavern's ablaze because of them," he reasoned aloud, attempting to sway the horse to his perspective. Yet, despite his efforts, doubt lingered in the horse's eyes.

"They're not worth it. We've got our own problems to sort out, our own revenge to fulfill. We can't afford to be sidetracked by these pesky beings. Come now, don't make me angry," he urged, his tone taking on a more stern edge.

The horse stared at him for a moment, seemingly contemplating his words. Then, with an air of reluctance, it slowly ambled toward him. Its strides were deliberate, almost as if it was playing its own little game of making him wait.

He didn't mount the horse dramatically like those characters in fancy stories. No, he simply walked beside it, keeping a firm grip on the reins. His head was spinning, thoughts scattered like leaves in the wind.

Life hadn't exactly dealt him a winning hand. Those he once considered friends had turned out to be backstabbers, leaving him with a sour taste in his mouth. Now, here he was, on the brink of a fresh start, a golden opportunity for payback, and perhaps a shot at a better life.

Illeron's goofy stories echoed in his mind. A bard who couldn't resist a wild adventure, even if it came bundled with trouble. And that Elven girl, mysterious as heck, but at least she was upfront about needing his help. Maybe it was because he saved her from that witch, or maybe she had no other choice. Either way, she wasn't playing games.

Was he really going to stoop down to the level of those so-called friends from his past? The traitors who, despite the trust he had invested in them, ended up stabbing him in the back. Did he want to become just like them? As he walked alongside the horse, lost in his thoughts, he pondered this internal struggle.

Eventually, he came to a stop and gazed up at the sky. Shadow cast a curious glance his way, as if saying, "What now, traitor?"

Azrael stood there, immersed in his thoughts. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Shadow's massive horse head was right in his face, almost as if to ask, "Hey, whatcha looking at?" 

Azrael couldn't help but freak out a bit, stumbling backward and nearly tripping over his own feet. Shadow snorted, a sound that might have been equine laughter in a language only horses understood.

"What the heck is wrong with you, man?" Azrael yelled at Shadow, shaking his finger at him like a scolding parent. "You're not supposed to scare people. Bad horse!"

Shadow, unimpressed by the scolding, turned away, swishing his tail in a manner that seemed to convey a nonchalant "I don't care" attitude.

Azrael scratched his head, feeling a twinge of embarrassment. "Okay, okay, I get it. I'm sorry, alright?"

He extended his hand to pat the horse's mane, but in the blink of an eye, Shadow's hooves were in the air, and bam! Azrael found himself airborne, sailing straight into the pond with a resounding splash.

As he float in the water, surrounded by the gentle ripples, Azrael couldn't help but feel like he'd stumbled into some bizarre dream. Floating in the pond, gazing up at the sky with fluffy clouds drifting by, it was oddly serene. In that brief moment, it was like a welcome escape from the chaos and danger that had been unfolding.

Reality crashed back like a tidal wave, shattering Azrael's dreamy moment. He scrambled to his feet, water dripping from his clothes, his expression morphing from surprise to anger.

"You blasted creature!" he yelled at Shadow, who was prancing around like he had just executed the greatest prank of all time. "What kind of stupid horse are you, anyway?"

Azrael scratched his head in frustration. "Geez, why do I have to deal with all this weird stuff?" he mumbled to himself, feeling a mix of annoyance and amusement.

Just then, Shadow bent one of its legs and shot Azrael a look that seemed to say, "Come on, let's get going already!"

Azrael couldn't help but snort a laugh at the horse's playful antics. He shook his head and sighed. "I guess I'm stuck with you, huh?" With a casual shrug, he hoisted himself back onto Shadow's back, gearing up for the continuation of their quest to find Illeron and Kaitlynn.

The odd duo, horse and rider, set off once again, ready to face whatever peculiarities lay ahead in their journey.