Here we are, and welcome to the next chapter of my book Medieval Cohesion. It honestly surprises me that I was able to finish this chapter so quickly, taken into consideration that it turned out to become somewhat longer than anticipated, possibly one of the longest chapters written to date. But you know how it is - I have my plans for how it is supposed to turn out, but then things escalate and go wild. Neverthless, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, involving my not-so-peaceful rendesvouz with Keltarh Aloundril. Commentary is utmost welcome.

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Chapter 64 - Ominous Premonition

Once we had traveled deeper into the woods and distanced ourselves from the camp, the silence and serenity of the night turned into quite a rejuvenating experience - especially because it was no longer interrupted by the obnoxious sound of Paul's high-pitched voice. It is literally impossibly to think, concentrate or meditate when that man has something to whine about. I was trying my best to remain right behind Keltarh as he was leading me back to his humble den, but neither of us were capable of moving very fast. He was obviously excused by his age, but I was lightly undernourished and slowed down by starvation. My stomach growled so loudly that it was starting to embarrass me. That measly pigeon that Paul brought back from his hunt was by no means enough to quell the appetite of three adults, and I was forced to minimize my own consumption to ensure that plenty of food was conserved for Zephyr. He obviously needed the nourishment more than me. The meal was highly insufficient and only fit to be presented by an amateur, but Paul boasted to the point that I was about to pull my own hair off. How ignorant and arrogant can a person possibly be? The absence of our vulpine leader seems to have made Paul twice as intolerable, since he now has plenty of time and space to unfold his less desirable traits for everyone to witness. He probably fooled himself into thinking that I hadn't noticed the wing of the pigeon was broken. A mere cub could've made a prey out of that bird! I'll gladly be the first to admit that Paul may be an honorable man at heart with the best intentions, but if we don't unite with Wesley again sometime soon, then I swear the next time I smack him across the face will be intentional. There is just something about him and his personality that really rubs me the wrong way.

But enough about him. There is no Paul around here. I am just strolling peacefully through the woods at night, following ol' Keltarh as he is guiding me back to his humble den. At the very least, I should be able to count on Paul to look after Zephyr while I am gone, right? My spirit truly felt drawn towards these harmonic forests in the kingdom of Zalsaroth. They were less lush and idyllic compared to the forest that I came from, but it speaks for itself that there was nothing else resembling our home than this. The only motion that I could sense around me was the various types of moths fluttering around the area, and the night seemed to have enhanced the scent of pines growing here. I had to be very careful earlier when I was out searching for herbs to treat Zephyr's wounds, because these woods are home to quite a variety of growth that I've never seen before, and some of them could potentially be poisonous. We would need to send foragers out from the forest of Niévahna to gather herbs and other types of growth, then bring it back so that our druids and shamans can study their hidden properties. It was a pure stroke of luck that I was able to find and collect some of the plants that I was able to recognize from back home, among the many foreign plants that are new discoveries to me. While walking along with Keltarh, I suddenly felt awkward when he send a skeptic look towards the new weapon I picked up in Jibanon.

Keltarh: Please excuse my rude curiosity, young one, but are you planning to use that thing in combat?
Sinqularis: Someone must've placed a curse on me, because every weapon I wield into combat seems to fall apart. But I thought it'd be better to bring this rather than being unarmed.
Keltarh: Do you even know what it is?
Sinqularis: I'd probably be better off not knowing.

The old man uttered a very low sigh and shook his head a few times while walking. Is it really that bad? His skepticism lead me to examine the weapon even closer, scrolling my eyes up and down the strange tool often referred to as a "hoe" by peasants of this region. The wooden shaft was really dry and splintered. The metallic headpiece of the tool was severely rusted and slightly dented. Pieces of cloth were strapped around the wooden shaft as if the previous owner had attempted to extend the durability of it just a little longer. Okay, perhaps it wasn't the most ideal weapon I had found. If used in combat, it would probably only be able to deliver a few successful strikes before breaking and becoming useless. But things really turned frantic and dangerous back in Jibanon, so I thought bringing this with me would be better than being unarmed, and at the very least, the long reach of the hoe could serve the purpose of shoving aggressive enemies away from me. The skeletal foes that play the role as the most common unit in the Lich King's army are usually pretty light and easy to push around because of the lacking meat on their bones. When they regroup and attack in large numbers, they won't always offer me time and space to channel spiritual energy for magical attacks. While Keltarh and I were pushing our way through the woods, I suddenly became aware of a very good reason for me to highly prefer our own forest of Niévahna above these many woods scattered around the kingdom of Zalsaroth - they were literally crawling with ticks. Just as the two of us passed through the patches of tall grass, I could feel them crawl underneath the fur on my legs, looking for a soft spot to latch on. I made sure to quickly brush them off my legs before they managed to do so.

Just as anticipated, we managed to arrive by Keltarh's humble den before dawn, and he expressed kind hospitality by inviting me inside right away. Not much had changed since my last visit. It was still a mess. Despite of his old age and worn body, it didn't seem like the exiled shaman spend much of his day inside the den. As a highly seasoned elder, he probably wanted to get the best out of his remaining time in this mortal realm and not wither away in the shadows of a dark grotto. Neither of us spoke a single word. We just rummaged through the darkness and searched for the dusty carved skins laying on the ground, then sat down with our legs crossed, facing eachother just like we did the last time. The old man squinted his eyes and looked at me. He had neglected to light the torches hanging on the wall, so even with my canine night vision, it was challenging for my sight to penetrate the gloom. All I could see before me was the dark silhouette of Keltarh and the vague indication of his facial features. With his severe case of cataract, I could only imagine how little he was able to see. But after having let him observe me for a couple of minutes, it suddenly felt like I was open and exposed to him like an ancient tome. The man was nearly blind, but it was like his piercing eyes could look right through me, as if all my most well kept secrets were hidden in vain. But then it dawned on me that there are far more ways than one to observe an individual. He was not observing me with his eyes. What truly occurred inside that grotto was possibly too complex for a low tiered shaman such as myself to understand, but my theory was the old man had somehow mastered the art of channeling the energy of his own soul and link it to my own. I could sense his arcane vigilance inside me, exploring what endeavors I had delved into since our last encounter. The insecurity lead me to break the silence with a polite statement.

Sinqularis: You know, all you had to do was ask.
Keltarh: Hmm? Oh! Please forgive the rude and intimate intrusion, but time is of the essence, so I thought that I'd just skip ahead and quickly browse through your library of memories.
Sinqularis: Your reasons are justified, and I don't mind.
Keltarh: This is quite interesting. Your memories are left in a bit of a haze and I can't induce a proper overview of your recent ordeals. But what glimpses I was able to see has revealed that you've diligently been practicing the arts of summoning during your absence.
Sinqularis: I certainly have. Your teachings literally saved my hide back in Jibanon when they held me captive.
Keltarh: Praise be to Gaia, young one. It pleases me to hear that my knowledge has proven useful on your journey. A cheeky chipmunk... what a peculiar creature to heed the call of a shaman's first attempt at summoning. Albeit not the mightiest ally to bring into battle, I see you found a nifty use of it's nimble nature. Quite impressive, yes...

The old man seemed to lose focus for a moment and drop into deep thought, and as far as I was able to see through the darkness, he turned his head away to avoid eye contact. His hands rested on the knees of his crossed legs. I sensed that he was building up courage to bring up a
heavy subject that he had been reluctant about mentioning until now. An interesting fact is, I wasn't half as surprised as I probably should've been. It is true that I am young and inexperienced compared to the prior great disciples of Gaia who left their signatures in history, but I can still take credit for being a perceptive individual capable of deciphering the words left unspoken. Keltarh had not brought me all the way back here just to become updated about my progress in summoning. There was another much more urgent matter that he wished to discuss, and I was curious about what kind of subject could've left the old man so distressed by concern. His hesitation persisted for almost a full minute, but I didn't pressure him to talk before he felt ready to do so. I remained patient and just rested my chin on my clenched knuckle, both eyes focused on Keltarh. The old shaman sighed before making an attempt to speak.

Keltarh: You've come a long way, Sinqularis Lupus, and the progress you've undergone is utmost admirable. I can sense it in my ol' bones that you have the potential to one day reach for the stars and become a blazing torch of fire to guide our people through the dark. It makes me proud that fate offered me the vague sense of having served as your mentor before my weary soul must depart from the mortal realm...
Sinqularis: Thank you, Keltarh, I...
Keltarh: ... But now, I think it's time for you to return home.
Sinqularis: What!? This is absurd. You know I can't do that.
Keltarh: That may be, but you must. There is nothing more for you to achieve from wandering around these plains outside the forest of Niévahna. Go home, Sinqularis - the tribes need you.
Sinqularis: Yes they do, but that is exactly why I've journeyed this far with Wesley Lightweaver, on his quest to obtain the sacred blade that repels the darkness. Without it, our forces will be utterly destroyed, and the planet itself will be consumed by malicious corruption.
Keltarh: Please! Leave the heroic purge of the undead to the knight and his friends. You have already played your part in this dramatic mayhem. I beg you, abandon this quest before its too late.
Sinqularis: Alright, stop. What has gotten into you, old man? I don't understand this sudden change of heart. Wasn't the art of summoning you taught me supposed to prepare me for the coming war and leave me better equipped to confront the undead legions of Zervas?
Keltarh: Yes, but... Uh.

There he goes again, stumbling into yet another phase of silence as he desperately browsed his mind for the right words to express himself. There is no way that I could keep my promise to Paul at this rate. I know it was wrong of me to be annoyed and impatient with the old man, but I was starting to grow rather disappointed with him. He was more than just a friend and a mentor to me. I admired and respected him to no end because of his vast knowledge, wisdom and experience. Because of this, he had also become a powerful fountain of zeal for me to depend on, in order to emerge victorious from whichever ordeals I get involved with. His support and faith in my capabilities have had a tremendous influence on my motivation to keep fighting no matter how grim the situation might seem, but now he's opposing my quest and telling me to abandon my friends to save my own hide? If I didn't know better, then I would've thought that the great Keltarh Aloundril was finally succumbing to the intimidating affect of Zervas' dominance and his dreadful army of death. That was the first suspicion that came to mind but I strongly refused to believe it. There had to be another reason behind Keltarh's sudden change of heart. I demanded an explanation and I wanted it now, but the old man was taking forever about getting to the point. The frustration was tearing me apart from within, but at least I had the decency to not express it openly. After the tedious phase of reluctance, Keltarh finally decided to pull himself together and reveal the truth behind his unexpected dispute. He spoke with a melancholic tone in his voice.

Keltarh: Three moons ago, Gaia herself came to me in my sleep at night and revealed to me an ominous vision, a dark premonition of a tragic event that has not yet taken place. I saw the shadowy silhouette of the seven bold champions of the earth, walking side by side as they plunged into the treacherous realm of darkness, to challenge the emperor of death and vanquish him once and for all. But even if the fellowship is strong enough to best the darkness, only few of the champions will return victorious. The menace you seek to destroy is far stronger than you anticipate, young one. Some of you are marching towards your doom.
Sinqularis: So that is why you are urging me to make the journey home. You're afraid that I will be among the fallen, are you not?
Keltarh: Yes, Sinqularis. Please don't think that I don't know who you are. You are the sacred child chosen by Gaia herself, the son of the earth destined to lead our tribes. We cannot afford to lose you. This is no fairy tale, young one. Thousands of people will die. The grassy plains will be horribly besmirched by the blood of heroic mortals who dare to resist the Lich King's conquest. Once this horrendous storm of death has passed, we will need you to rally the remaining survivors and attempt to rebuild what there will be left of our precious planet. Do you understand?
Sinqularis: I understand what you say and appreciate your concern. But with all due respect, I think you are greatly overreacting to this revelation you've witnessed. What you saw was no more than a dream, old man...
Keltarh: Is that your final conviction?
Sinqularis: Yes, Keltarh. I am deeply sorry, but I cannot abandon my quest or my friends because one man has envisioned that a tragic fate possibly awaits me. This is war - everyone's life is in jeopardy! The only place that my people truly needs me is on the battlefield.
Keltarh: Then you leave me no other choice...

Hmm. What kind of scheme did that old man have in mind? This was not over. He was a stubborn one and I could sense that he was not going to take no for an answer. Keltarh grabbed his wooden staff laying on the ground and used it for support as he made a strained attempt of getting back up on his feet. I remained seated on the carved skin for now, but my eyes followed him all the way as he walked slowly past me and approached the one and only exit to his den. He stopped by the exit and just stared aimlessly out into the darkness. As I watched Keltarh over my shoulder, I couldn't help it but to feel just a little guilty. It's not like I didn't appreciate his concern for my safety, but he'd have to understand that no matter what fate awaits me beyond this great typhoon of darkness, I couldn't possibly make myself run off and hide somewhere while my people was being butchered on the battlefield. If I truly am the chosen son of Gaia like everyone claims, then my destiny must be to utilize my arcane powers to protect my people and destroy what threatens the earth. That was my conviction. However, just as I was mentally justifying my own decision, my instincts suddenly became active and alerted me about approaching danger. Here in good ol' Keltarh's peaceful grotto? I was not expecting any kind of danger in this location, but once I looked over my shoulder and returned my attention to the old shaman standing by the cave exit, I saw him turn around with the top of his wooden staff charged by spiritual energy. Completely without any type of warning, he fired a bolt of spiritual energy towards me and I barely managed to roll out of the way before it exploded close to where I was sitting. I managed to grab the shoddy hoe I left on the ground before I bounced up into a standing position, facing the crazed shaman who just attacked me and shouting with quite an agitated tone in my voice.

Sinqularis: Have you lost your damn mind!?
Keltarh: Forgive me, Sinqularis. If you insist on carrying on with this quest, then you must pass through me. Great defender of earth, lend me your might and prowess - come forth!

That's it - Keltarh Aloundril has officially gone mad. He suddenly revealed hidden vigor unfit for a man of his age by raising the wooden staff above his head, spinning it a couple of times before pounding the bottom of the staff onto the ground in front of his feet, releasing an impressive nova of spiritual energy that expanded inside the cave. The nova passed right through my body without causing any harm, but once it made contact with the torches hanging throughout the grotto, it left them lit with white flames of spiritual energy. They served as a light source to illuminate the humble grotto which was about to be turned into a battleground. I clung onto the wooden shaft of the shoddy hoe being my only available weapon, watching as the aged shaman channeled spiritual energy of such immense power that it levitated his feet from the ground and left his eyes beaming. It suddenly dawned on me that Keltarh probably wasn't as old and fragile as he wanted people to think he was. In fact, now that he was exposing his true capabilities, I could sense that his powers far surpassed my own. My suspicion was quickly justified as a great cloud of spiritual mist invaded the grotto, revealing that the gate to the spiritual realm had once again been accessed and a lost soul had answered Keltarh's call. Once the mist of spiritual energy faded away, it left behind a vicious grizzly bear, causing the entire grotto to shake with a deafening roar. Tiny pieces of rubble from the ceiling fell down around me, and despite that I was quite desperate for support at that moment, I came to the conclusion that it would be pointless and kinda cruel to make the effort of calling forth the spiritual chipmunk again. No, I was on my own this time. Not even Zephyr was there to back me up. If only Keltarh and his humongous summoned beast would leave an opening, I might actually consider heading towards the exit and make a swift escape.

The bear scraped it's massive claws across the ground before charging relentlessly forward to attack, possessed by an unbendable determination of ripping its target apart. My feet sensed the tremors released by the aggressive motion as if the soul had a solid form, suggesting that it would be perfectly capable of mauling me down with ease. This was quite unnerving as I had never expected to be challenged by a summoned creature myself, which highlights the reasons for why I didn't find it necessary to study for efficient ways to deal with them in combat. Spiritual or not, there was no way that I could bring down a raging bear, but at least the lumbering beast was so slow that its attacks were fairly easy to anticipate. Once I was within its reach, the bear snapped viciously at me and attempted to strike me with a quick swipe of its mighty paw. Even in this spiritual form, those claws looked perfectly capable of rending flesh. I swiftly dodged the blow by leaping into the air and bouncing once onto the back of the bear, landing right behind it and immediately taking advantage of its confusion by swinging the hoe to attack its unprotected side. However, even though the metallic headpiece might've caused substantial damage to a living creature, the blow didn't seem to accomplish more than leaving the bear even more infuriated. Just like certain ethereal abominations that are known for bolstering the armies of death, the creatures we bring forth with spiritual summoning also seem to possess the trait of being highly resistant to physical attacks.

The bear reacted on the ineffective attack by roaring so loud that it was about to make my eardrums burst, then it spun around and retaliated with an aimless swipe in the dark with its paw, making me feel fortunate for being out of reach. And yet, the bear was quickly proven to be the least of my concern, since Keltarh had no intention of letting his summoned beast fight alone. The top of his wooden staff had begun to sparkle with spiritual energy and the same applied to his free left hand. Without showing any concern of conserving his energy, he hovered towards me and suddenly used his staff and the left hand to fire spiritual missiles simultaneously, targeting me with a rapid flurry of magical projectiles. I was left with no choice but to run as fast as I was able to along the rocky walls of the grotto, closely followed by a trail of spiritual blasts exploding right behind me, trying my best not to run into his summoned beast during the evasion. Spiritual magic is devastating when used on the forces of undead and is significantly less effective against the living - but it still had the potential to stun a living target and leave him open for other attacks. The projectiles seemed to have a homing feature, because even when I bounced against the wall and changed direction, they kept following my movement vividly. My attempt of evasion was met with futility - they were catching up with me! I had no choice but to stop running and pick up a different type of strategy. Keltarh did not seem like he was going to be slowed down by exhaustion anytime soon. I've underestimated the old man tremendously, and it completely eludes me how he was able to suppress his true powers so effectively, leaving me unable to sense this vast amount of energy he has kept hidden inside him.

Keltarh: Surrender while you can, Sinqularis. You can't do this.
Sinqularis: Yes I CAN. Spiritu aura!

My determination was strong, but would that alone be enough to repel the overwhelming force of someone so superior to myself? Only time would tell. I instantly stopped my fruitless attempt of escaping Keltarh's homing projectiles and placed myself in a defensive stance, channeling my own share of spiritual energy to counter his attacks. Ever since the first day that I initiated my practice of spiritual magic, it's been my intention to forge my spells so that they have defensive properties rather than being focused on causing a tremendous amount of damage. I raised my hand and placed the middle and index finger on my forehead, closing the eyes to have nothing disrupt my concentration and then the spell was activated. Spiritual energy gathered and enveloped my body in shape of a bright aura, protecting me from the harmful projectiles chasing me. I clenched my teeth nervously as I felt the impact of countless spiritual bolts clashing against the protective aura and exploding in the process. The aura enveloping my body served more than one purpose, besides keeping me protected from harm - it also absorbed the energy from Keltarh's magic and kept it stored to unleash a devastating retaliation later. There was one minor problem though. Keltarh's magic was so strong that the aura became charged supremely quickly, beaming brightly with the heavy amount of energy stored inside. If I failed to adjust my timing properly, the energy absorbed would exceed the maximum capacity of the aura and penetrate the spiritual barrier, resulting in a painful experience for me. This was the first time that I had ever used this particular spell in real combat, so it was quite a daring move of me to use it against such a powerful adversary. Once I sensed the time was right, I broke the combo of missiles by unleashing the stored energy.

Sinqularis: Spiritu retributioneeeem!

Yelling out at the top of my lungs, all the absorbed energy was suddenly unleashed in a flashy explosion that lit up the entire cave for a brief moment, causing minor harm but successfully leaving both Keltarh and his summoned guardian behind in a daze. Now was my chance! They weren't going to be stunned for long, so I instantly leapt into the air and performed a somersault on the way, landing right in front of Keltarh Aloundril who was still hovering slightly above the ground. With the fragile and worn out hoe equipped, I flipped it around in my hands and attacked with a straight thrust, pounding the wooden bottom of the hoe into Keltarh's exposed stomach. For obvious reasons, I did not seek to mortally injure the man! Just keep him stunned long enough for me to make my escape. Once the blow was delivering, I could feel that my lacrimal ducts were vibrating as if I was about to shed tears. Please forgive me, Keltarh... there was no other way. The old man released a heartbreaking groan and lost control of the spiritual energy levitating his body from the ground, causing him to drop back down onto his feet with both knees shivering insecurely. It seemed like I pretty much pounded the air out of the poor guy, but this was no time to become delayed by compassion or sympathy. I can cry and regret my actions once I’ve made my way back to camp. This was my one and only chance to escape.

I was just about to run past Keltarh and make my way to the exit of the grotto, but unfortunately, the old shaman was apparently not as helpless as he seemed to be. Even while sagging lightly after the agonizing blow to the stomach, he was still able to channel enough spiritual energy to levitate his wooden staff as if it had a mind of its own, causing it to spiral around him in horizontal circles. As a result, my escape was abruptly interrupted as the wooden staff suddenly struck me hard across my exposed torso, knocking me back and toppling me in the process. The impact was strong enough to send me flying, but once I made contact with the rocky ground, I rolled backwards by reflex and got back up onto my feet. This turned out to be a very bad choice, as bending my torso that way made it painfully clear that the blow I sustained had managed to bend a few of my ribs. The agony made me gasp and raise an arm to place a hand on the damaged area of my chest, trying to sooth the pain by supplying pressure. It didn’t help much, but there was worse things for me to worry about. A large shadow was passing in over me and I barely managed to turn around before I found the bear standing on its hind legs, having fully recovered from the daze. I was in no condition to escape this attack. All I could do was raise the hoe and hold it horizontally as an attempt to block the attack, but once the bear came back down onto all four, its weight forced me to the ground and kept me trapped under the ferocious beast. The bear snarled and made numerous attempts of biting or clawing me to death. The only thing that kept me alive at this point was the wooden shaft of the hoe that I used to parry the attacks. Once the shaft breaks, I’m dead. As the bear roared directly into my face, I found myself staring directly into its open maw, and the sticky drool from its mouth felt almost too real to be spiritual. The breath was so foul that I could’ve sworn something died in there. Then I heard Keltarh’s voice.

Keltarh: Stop! That’s enough...

Just like that, the bear suddenly seized its countless attempts of ripping me apart, then just turned its head and looked curiously at me for a moment. The bear grunted a little before lazily moving away and leaving me behind on the ground. I forced myself to gather what strength and energy I had left to raise my head, watching as the bear disappeared back into the spiritual mist from which it came, having acknowledged that it served its purpose. My head dropped right back onto the ground, leaving my long hair spread out while I heaved for air. Not only did my body feel broken and bruised, I also needed to recover from the thought of just having had a frighteningly close encounter with death. Keltarh limbed slowly over towards me, still sagging lightly and pressing his arm into his stomach where I struck him before. Then he reached his arm out and pointed the tip of his wooden staff towards my head, as if he was threatening me. The tip was only centimeters away from my face and the old man was so shaken by the blow that he couldn’t hold the staff still.

Keltarh: I’m too old for this nonsense.
Sinqularis: You’re powerful...
Keltarh: I am just older and more experienced than you. Now answer me, Sinqularis - do you yield?
Sinqularis: Keltarh, no. I am sorry, but this makes no difference. If you truly wish to stop me, then you’ll have to kill me yourself. I am not leaving the battlefield before this war is over.

Keltarh squinted his eyes and stared directly into my own for a couple of seconds, but then he suddenly sighed deeply, lowering his staff slowly.

Keltarh: You know I’d never do such a thing. I want you to live. Our entire people need you to survive. But let me ask you this, Sinqularis - if you cannot handle an old humble man like me in combat, how will you cope with the many greater dangers that lurk in the ranks of undead?
Sinqularis: I... don’t really have an answer for that. All I can do is practice, grow stronger and pray for Gaia to watch over me.
Keltarh: Your determination is strong and inspiring, but according to my premonition, it might lead to your own downfall. If you insist on ignoring my warning and persevere, then it seems like there is only one way for me to protect you outside these woods. Come...

The aged shaman leaned onto his wooden staff for support as he slowly made his way to the back of his grotto, still sagging a little from the pain, resting his wrinkled hand on the sore stomach where I landed a blow earlier. I heard him cough hard a few times before he begun rummaging in the dark. Getting back up on my feet turned out to be quite a hassle because of my bended ribs, but I eventually found a clumsy method of making it happen, and then I limbed over to see what Keltarh was looking for. My long hair was full of filth and dust bunnies from having been spread out on the ground. It felt like spiders or other types of insects were crawling on me, but the throbbing pain in my torso and challenged attempts to breathe made me reject my interest of shaking them off. Keltarh had kneeled down and pulled an old shabby crate out from a pile of large withered leaves, located in the corner of his grotto. It was also there during my last visit, but I assumed that it was just fallen leaves from the forest having been swept into his cave by the wind. Once he opened the wooden crate, I looked over his shoulder and my eyes were filled with awe. The crate was stuffed with hay, possibly stolen from one of the nearby farms, clearly meant to cushion the contents. Keltarh reached into the crate and pulled out a magnificent staff adorned by a large oval amethyst, just like the one I left in my tent back at home, but much older and radiating with great power. This was no ordinary staff - it was the ceremonial staff handed only to the enlightened disciples of Gaia, who were acknowledged and accepted as the shaman of a tribe. They probably gave it to Keltarh long before he began to dabble in the forbidden summoning magic, but it still amazed me that he had kept it in his possession for all those years. He used his hand to wipe a thick layer of dust off the marvelous amethyst, gazing into the faint reflection.

Keltarh: You know what this is, don't you?
Sinqularis: Of course I do! I have a similar one back at home.
Keltarh: This staff has served me well for many years. Besides enhancing the wielder's ability to channel spiritual magic and unleash it for devastating effects, I've also adjusted it to improve the attunement between the wielder and his summoned guardians. Here... take it.

I watched as the scrawny old man stood back up and turned around, handing the impressive staff to me. My lips shivered as I felt compelled to protest against such overwhelming generosity, but the words just wouldn't leave my tongue and my hands had already advanced to gratefully accept Keltarh's offer. Although the staff had been hidden away and collecting dust for years, I could still sense arcane energy rippling through the wooden shaft, a powerful force elated by the thought of serving a shaman in combat again. Once I held the staff in my own hands, I became excited like a young cub and suddenly got the feeling that he'd have a hard time twisting it out of my grasp if he changed his mind. My fingers clung hard and possessively onto the wooden shaft.

Keltarh: Take it, but on one condition. Are you listening?
Sinqularis: Yes, of course.
Keltarh: I'm concerned about your tendency to engage in melee combat and bash your enemies so relentlessly. This staff is old, delicate and fragile - so please be careful with it and try to rely on your magic instead.
Sinqularis: You have my word. I'll handle it responsibly.
Keltarh: Then go, Sinqularis. May Gaia watch over you and ensure that you return in one piece. You'll be in my prayers.

I bowed my head respectfully to bid the elder farewell, before turning around and limping slowly towards the exit of his grotto. However, once I had stepped outside and became enticed to admire the outstanding staff in the rays of moonlight, I heard a faint noise of sobbing coming from inside the cave. In spite of my own skepticism towards Keltarh's presumed vision, I couldn't shake off the depressing feeling that this might be the last time that he and I will get to see eachother...