“Hello there! Anyone home?” Uther called out as he knocked on the rough wooden door.

  No reply came.

  He applied gentle pressure to the door, which swung open with a prolonged creak that seemed louder than it was.

  The interior of the cottage was rustic yet inviting. The main room centered around a glowing fireplace, which doubled as a cooking fire. Its warmth, coupled with a faint smell of smoke, reached us as we stood in the doorway. A bear fur lay sprawled in front of the fire, as if beckoning us to lounge there with a good book.

  To one side stood a table strewn with food and ingredients, as though someone had just stepped away mid-preparation of a meal. At the back of the room, three closed doors hinted at bedrooms or storage spaces.

  “I think the owner won’t mind if we wait inside,” Dahlia suggested, her arms pressed tightly against her body as she rubbed her cold hands for warmth.

  The cottage appeared empty, with no signs of struggle, and the door stood invitingly open. Yet, somewhere deep in the back of my mind, a faint unease lingered—though my conscious thoughts couldn’t pinpoint anything overtly wrong.

  “You three can await inside. Stay on guard, look for anything suspicious. I will just check something quickly,” Uther said, looking to the ground around the house.

  Me, Dahlia and Locan entered, the warmth seeping into my bones.

  Dahlia went straight to the fireplace with a satisfied smile.

  Locan quickly cast one of his scanning spells. He frowned, probably because he found something strange in his readings, but it was likely minor because he said nothing.

  I thought about investigating the back rooms, but it would be prudent to wait for Uther before going any further.

  As I looked around, my eyes ended up resting at the table. The food looked fresh and delicious, but one detail struck me as peculiar.

  “Where did they get fresh raspberries in the middle of winter?” I muttered to myself.

  Professor Locan stoped, his body straightening with sudden tension. He turned to face me, an odd glint in his eyes—was it fear?

  “What did you—” Locan began, his voice tight, but Uther interrupted him before he could finish.

  “There are no footsteps outside,” Uther said, pausing just short of entering the cottage. “Only some mismatched tracks.”

  Locan stared back at Uther, his gaze transmitting a silent message. Uther stopped and gave a step back, hand reaching the handle of his sword.

  “Look, Lancaster—a plate of fresh raspberries in the middle of winter. See how lucky we are?” Professor Locan said tensely, fiddling with a small metal object about the size of an apple, which he had retrieved from his pocket.

  Dahlia Lancaster started to respond with something snarky, but she froze mid-motion as realization hit her. Her body tensed, and her eyes darted nervously around the room before she finally spoke.

  “Yes... very lucky... yes...” she replied, her voice brittle and eerily monotone, and slowly removed her gloves.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  I had no idea what was happening, but it was clear that something was terribly wrong. A shiver of dread crawled down my spine as I looked around, the apparent normalcy of the scene only amplifying the unbearable unease.

  Professor Locan crouched down, carefully placing the object he had retrieved onto the floor. It was one of his gadgets, resembling the generator he had once implanted in Uther’s shield.

  He rose again, his hand stretched wide, lowering one finger with each beat of his heart.

  As his fist finally closed, the device hummed to life with a whirling sound.

  An orange disk materialized under the ceiling, spreading out like an umbrella over us.

  Dahlia jumped in our direction and Locan pulled me under the protective barrier.

  There was a humming sound and an intense reverberation inside me as a large quantity of mana was manipulated at my side. Dahlia extended her hand in the direction of the wall, an angry magical circuit glowed crimson red in front of her.

  The explosion shocked me at my core.

  A directional blast erupted from Dahlia. The wall burst. Pieces of wood flew outwards.

  With a glass shattering shriek, the horror revealed itself.

  Eyes, mouths and tentacles sprung from the walls, destroyed mobiles, flying debris and even scattered foodstuff. The woody texture of the walls melted into a dark, viscous substance.

  And whatever this otherworldly creature was, we were in its belly.

  “Get out!” screamed Locan, his voice barely registering between the ringing in my ears and the hellish shriek.

  The ceiling, if we still could call it that, dropped on us, but it was stopped by Locan’s barrier, giving us a few precious seconds to escape.

  We ran in the direction of the hole in the ‘wall’, my body moving by survival instinct alone as my mind was incapable of processing what was happening.

  Never had five steps felt so long.

  The hard floor surface dissolved into that oily matter. My boots dragged like I was running over some kind of nightmare mud that moved as it sprouted eyes and mouths.

  I almost stepped into a gapping maw, only escaping by overextending my pace, instead hitting a yellow eye that popped at the impact.

  The slime like substance started to run around our protective force umbrella.

  The hole in the wall began to close, forming teeth as it did so.

  My mind, useless until that point, returned to work by informing me that I was about to be eaten alive. I turned all that fear into leg strength as I darted like I had never done in my entire life.

  And I stepped into firm ground, being the last to cross the vicious round maw the hole in the wall had become.

  My intention was to keep running until I passed out from sheer exhaustion.

  But instead, I felt a jolt in my leg and the welcoming image of the forest became the approaching leafy ground as a tentacle grabbed my ankle.

  On the floor, still stunned by the sudden fall, I turned.

  For the first time, I saw the creature in its entirety.

  It still had some semblance of the cottage it was moments ago, but corrupted, ever changing. One big, predominant eye that sprouted from the roof, right above the hole in the wall that was now an open maw with many rolls of teeth.

  It stared at me, the tentacle still holding my leg.

  “Stop! Please!” I screamed at the creature, begging in tears, the knowledge that I possessed the power of the Seal long forgotten.

  The monster froze. All its eyes turned toward me. All mouths fell silent.

  Then it began to thrash. The great mouth tried to speak, but the sound was consumed by a deafening shriek that forced me to cover my ears.

  I had felt the indescribable sensation that accompanied the activation of my gift.

  But this time, there was a pushback.

  It felt as though I was addressing a crowd—some greeted me with cheers and open arms, while far more screamed for my death, their curses echoing in a cacophony of hatred.

  One tentacle with a chitinous tip darted in my direction, intended to impale me. The tentacle that was holding my leg let go and deflected the blow enough for it to miss me.

  The big maw moved to devour me, but it stopped midway, as there were forces that were simultaneously pushing and pulling inside the creature.

  Uther grabbed my dress like I was luggage and carried me away, my weight not even slowing him down.

  The orange glow illuminated the trees as Dahlia cast fire spells on the monster with wanton abandon. The heat waves were almost pleasant, but the brunt monster smelled horribly of chlorine and sulfuric acid.

  But no matter how powerful Dahlia was, it was not enough to kill the creature by a long margin.

  Even so, maybe because of the fire, maybe because of the confusing caused by my power, the monster retreated inside the forest.

  As for us, we somehow mounted our panicked horses and ran away as fast as we could, only stopping when our mounts could not go anymore, half-way to Ironwall.

  And that was the first time I met one of the Cataclysms.