Mining

I am horrified by the scene before me.

Wolf corpses are crucified along a wooden stake fence. Their fur, once majestic, now matted with blood and decay.

“W-w-werewolves,” Daisy stutters, her voice barely audible.

Rage begins to bubble up inside me. Werewolves? Who could have done this? My heart pounds as I take in the remnants of a village—desolate, no sign of life. Concentrating, I focus on the sounds around me. Faint clanking echoes from below, about twenty feet underground.

Snapping my fingers, I pull the bodies off the stakes. The stench of rot surrounds us; they’ve been dead for weeks. I feel tears streak down my face as I lay them gently together. Were these wolves defending their home?

Someone will pay for this.

“Arya,” I say quietly, “would you burn their bodies? They don’t deserve this kind of shame.”

Nodding, she steps forward, her flames consuming the bodies. We all stand together in silence, mourning. Daisy kneels beside us, her hands touching the ground, and a field of flowers blossoms where the wolves once lay.

Once their bodies have turned to ash, I speak, my voice cold and determined. “I can hear noises below us. There must be an entrance nearby.”

We walk through the ruined village, side by side, taking in the destruction. My heart aches as I spot a small wolf figurine carved from wood. Dropping to my knees, I cradle it in my hands, sobbing. These were my people too. The alpha inside me seethes with anger, vibrating through every nerve in my body.

I tuck the figurine into my pouch, praying that some of them managed to escape. With newfound resolve, I rise and continue searching for an entrance.

“Over here, my queen!” Marco calls out, standing beside a water well. “There’s a ladder that goes down.”

I thank him and begin climbing down. The descent feels endless, the heat intensifying with every step. It’s nauseating, like descending into the bowels of hell. When we finally reach the bottom, I release a cooling mist to cut through the oppressive heat.

It’s pitch black, but the sound of clanking metal is deafening now. I send light into the darkness, revealing a massive mine.

I look at my friends. “We’ll split up and take out any ravens we encounter,” I command. “Marco and Maya, stick together. Daisy and Arya, you too.” They nod in agreement. “Bring the rescued men back here. I’ll summon a beacon to mark this spot.”

With a clap of my hands, I conjure a large beacon and a buffet of food. Then, I teleport away, in search of more victims.

I find myself in front of a group of fifteen men, all shackled together by chains. They’re so engrossed in their work they don’t even notice me. I freeze and shatter their chains with a flick of my fingers, then begin teleporting them, two at a time, back to the meetup.

“Eat. You’re free now,” I tell them. “How many ravens are here, and how many men?”

One man, still stunned, blinks rapidly before responding. “At least 500 ravens, kind lady. They’re scattered throughout the mines. As for the slaves, there are over 5,000 of us.”

I nod, acknowledging the scope of the situation, and clap my hands to summon seats around the buffet. As the men settle in to eat, my friends return with more survivors. Catching Maya’s eye, I nod at her in silent thanks.

We teleport away once more.

This time, I land in front of a group of men pulling carts full of treasures. The harsh voice of a raven cuts through the air, “Go faster, you piece of s**t!” Another raven is zapping a man with cruel satisfaction.

Raw anger surges through me. I charge at them, punching both ravens with all my strength. The pain of seeing those dead wolves fuels my fury. Punch after punch lands, until both ravens are barely conscious, their bodies broken. Black energy swirls around them as I leave a curse mark on their foreheads. I don’t bother explaining it—they wouldn’t understand anyway.

Turning to the group of workers, I shatter their chains and ask them to hold hands. Together, we teleport back to the meetup point.

When we arrive, I see more men gathered, eating and resting. Maya catches sight of my bruised knuckles and gives me a worried look. “Be careful, my queen,” she pleads softly, her eyes full of concern.

I smile, trying to reassure her. “Don’t worry about me, Maya. I’ll be fine.”

In the distance, I see flames—Arya must be in the middle of a battle. I trust her completely.

Teleporting away, I find another group, larger this time—about a hundred men, all using pickaxes to chip away at the rock walls. Five ravens are spread out, watching the slaves closely. I need to act fast.

Focusing on the ravens, I send a wave of black energy toward them. This time, I concentrate on a different method for the curse—an added sleep spell. I feel the magic land as they all collapse to the ground. In their minds, I explain the curse and its consequences, though they’ll likely never have the chance to respond.

Good.