Chapter 32: The Path of the Mage V

Chapter 32: 32: The Path of the Mage V --- Fizz zipped ahead but stopped after a few meters and turned back with a toothy grin. "Wait wait wait. I’m feeling it again." John narrowed his eyes. "Feeling what?" Fizz held out his tiny furry covered arms like a bard preparing for a grand performance. "The song of travel. The melody of the mission. The fart fueled the march of destiny." "Nooo." Fizz cleared his throat and began anyway. "Through the woods and over stones, Chasing sparkles, breaking bones. Fizz and John on magic quests, Ignoring swampy, buggy pests. Butts will glow and beasts will scream, While I nap and John does things." John sighed and kept walking. "You’re going to summon something awful with that." Fizz followed in lazy spirals, adding percussion with mouth pops and twig snaps. John opened his map again once they reached the edge of the clearing. The red mark pulsed slower now, as if waiting. Something told him the next site wouldn’t be as peaceful. He knelt beside a patch of soft grass, pressing two fingers to the ground. "System," he whispered under his breath, "what kind of environment is the next one?" [Ding. Terrain Type: Wetlands. Mana Density: Moderate. Hostile Beast Presence: 62% Likelihood. Recommended: Approach with Caution.] Fizz landed on his shoulder and nibbled a dry leaf like a snack. "I got a feeling that we’re totally going to be attacked." "Then stick close this time." Fizz snorted. "Where’s the fun in that?" They moved more southeast. The forest thickened again, this time with deeper underbrush and trees that leaned like old men whispering secrets. Vines curled around trunks like they were trying to choke them back into the dirt. A creek ran across their path within the hour. The water was clear but fast. John stepped over it using a fallen log, balancing with careful steps. Fizz just floated across humming a remix of a new song. Fizz took a deep breath, fluttered up to perch dramatically, and shouted, "By the authority of all sacred snacks, I now present the truth of existence, the Bridge of Eternal Weirdness!" Then, wings spread like a bard drunk on leaf juice, he belted: "Haunted socks beneath my bed, Tried to nibble off my head, Mushrooms danced and formed a band, Played sad songs with spoons and sand. A walrus kissed a magic goat, Both eloped on flying boats, And if you hiccup near a frog, You’ll walk into his shit log!" He finished with jazz wings and a split in mid air, landed on John’s head with a flourish, and whispered, "I’m available for funerals. If you slip on frog shit." John didn’t respond. He was visibly questioning every decision he’d made since birth. Fizz burped. "That was the scent of destiny." Midway through the crossing, John paused. He turned his head. Nothing. But he felt it. A prickle at the edge of his skin. Like something distant had become aware of him. He stepped quickly off the log and scanned the woods behind them. Fizz noticed his expression. "Uh oh. What is it?" "Not sure. Just... a feeling." Fizz hovered above his head and looked around. His wings buzzed faintly. "Should I rap on it?" "No, please. Let’s just move." They left the creek behind, pushing deeper into the trees. The air grew damp, heavier, like it had swallowed too much mist and couldn’t spit it out. Fizz twirled a stick like a baton. "Still feeling weird?" John didn’t answer immediately. The sensation had faded. He opened the system interface one more time and double checked their path. The red marker was closer now, but still a few kilometers off. "We’re getting close. Halfway there." Fizz perked up. "Halfway? Time for another verse." John groaned. "Please don’t." Fizz didn’t listen. "Moss and madness, roots that bite, Sneaky snakes that love to fight. Fizz floats on while John swings sticks, Trying not to get eaten quick. But in the mud where monsters hide, I’ll still be handsome. I’ve got pride." John slapped a bug off his neck and kept walking. The slap was hundred percent directed at Fizz. Suddenly, he could feel it again. The world had changed slightly when he absorbed that first particle. He hadn’t noticed it right away, but now, as the distance between him and the Whispering Brook Cavern stretched, he realized something: His mana senses are stronger than before. And far below the surface of his thoughts, like a sleeping giant stirring, he sensed something else too. The Black Hole. Still sealed. Still waiting. But it was no longer silent. It pulsed. And it was watching and waiting for him now. Out of nowhere the sky started to rumble. The first raindrop splattered on John’s shoulder like a warning. He looked up. The sky, once a cheerful stretch of blue, had turned into a canvas of thick gray clouds, smeared like wet ink across the heavens. Wind followed next. It was soft at first, then sharper, threading through the trees with invisible fingers that tugged at branches and ruffled his hair. Fizz squinted toward the sky. "So... did we offend the weather spirit or something, or is this just nature reminding us we smell?" John adjusted the strap on his satchel and pulled up the hood of his travel cloak. "You said it yourself. This is quest math. If it can go wrong, it will." The wind howled louder, and the first true curtain of rain fell. It was heavy and sudden. Fizz squealed and darted under a thick leaf. Then he picked the leaf, "I’m too fluffy for the rain! I will look bad if I get wet." John just kept walking. The path beneath his boots was already turning soft. Roots tangled underfoot. The damp soil sucked at his steps. The map still pulsed in his vision. The red marker was no more than five kilometers away now, maybe less. But the terrain had shifted. It was no longer just forest. The trees here grew crooked. Warped. Their bark peeled like old skin, and strange moss hung from the branches like wet scarves. Even the birds had gone quiet again.