A dark return

 

A master wizard from the now mutilated academy of Lesallia, he was one of the most brilliant students of the arcane, too brilliant as some may claim. Yes, he was brilliant, but this brilliance propagated his interest in the dark arts and it grew more demanding as he recovered forbidden ancient scrolls and relics of dark magic he found lying around the rubble of his former academy. The arcana, the spirit of the arcane that flows through exceptional beings, now overflow in his veins; the same reason that banished him from the ones he used to love. The once lively arcana in him now thirsts for the necromantic absurdity of the forbidden dark arts.

 

After becoming a disputed wizard of Lesallia, life was grand for him. He had in his hands everything he ever wanted. Ambitious as his clan was, he was the one chosen to end the sadistic cult of the black wizards, Lesallia's most notorious geniuses that were corrupted by the same magic they embraced so much. But an evil tide struck his perfect life and he ended up as an outcast, cursed right to his soul. This evil consumed him and took advantage of his isolation; as he sought to find more and more of the dark magic that Lesallia has to offer, unknowingly being devoured by the ever-consuming arcana of darkness. His soul felt hungry for demented power, twisted magic and sadistic knowledge of the darker side of the arcane elements.

And slowly, he became the black wizard that that he sought to conquer.

Dark incantations occupied his memory and the arcana that flows in him was reversed from a raging arcana of life into a tainted stream of pure black mana. He used this dark magic to kill and to destroy lives just to get his hands on valuable information of gaining secrets in develop such limitless mana. Doing so, he ruined himself and transformed himself into a merciless sorcerer with legendary spells not known even to the highest of mages, wielding spells of death and decay without delay.

Exiled and casted out of Lesallia, he fends for himself, now hungry for more sadistic magic, his evil ways casted away from the land. And like a parasite, the dark grasp of the black arcane stuck to his soul. There was one set of artifact left undug. The tome of the seven arcana elements, written by ancient priests of magic that contains the knowledge about the arcana element that exist all creations. It held unknown spells and incantations that draw incredible and unseen magic, magic that no mortal should ever lay his eyes upon. It was rumored to have existed somewhere in Lesallia but the few entitites that know its existence and whereabouts lost their sanity, thus its location remains a mystery. 

And now as he returned to the tainted grounds of the land he used to love, a messenger in a form of a glowing orb of blue luminous light appeared to him and promised a tome of power that would free him from the curse. Words were inscripted to it like a hand writing of some sort, and as he turned it around and read it, a riddle showed itself into him and said,

Seek a tavern of boars and snakes

Where wind meets earth and fire still shakes,

Seek a door with fangs of a tiger,

A door guarded by a sidewinder;

You will find more than the treasure you seek,

And your efforts to cleanse yourself would not be so meek;

Go forth and waste no moment

Face her patience or her torment

…

He grasped it with his gnarled hand, read it once and he knew where exactly to go. He knew who sent it and the reason why it was sent to him. An opportunity grasps his evil intents; an artifact of power should be his and all its knowledge would be under his control for eternity. A grim smile suddenly slashed his pale face and under the black hood a manic stare glowed in his brown eyes. Standing tall in tattered black robes, he threw the still glowing orb to the dirt. The cold, midnight wind sweeping away his robes, revealing ancient books strapped around his waist, parchments as pale as his skin sticking out of his pockets. He put a scarred hand into a pocket and drew a pair of leather gauntlets, as black as the night, with inscriptions only wizards knew. He slid his gnarled hands inside the stitched accessory and strapped it on his wrist with such force and poised himself as if he was about to cast a spell.

A growl, instead of a voice came out of his mouth.

"Anguis Tholus."

As the glowing orb crumbled to dust, in one flash of dark magic, Vangz the black wizard disappeared from view.