Larin’s eyes narrowed as the Obsidian Fathomfish flickered in and out of shadow, its phasing ability making it nearly impossible to catch. With a steady breath, he raised his hand and cast [Light Lock], a spell designed to halt such elusive movements. A faint glow surrounded the fish, freezing its flickering ability in place. “Now, Ngieri!” he shouted.


    Ngieri, already poised with her enchanted net, acted swiftly. The net’s glowing [Binding] runes activated as she tightened it around the thrashing fish. “Pull!” she called, and with Gwendon and Larin’s combined strength, they dragged the enormous creature onto the riverbank. It lay still, its sleek, obsidian body shimmering under the moonlight, glowing lines along its scales pulsing faintly with residual magic. The group exchanged triumphant smiles, their teamwork etched in the glistening prize before them.


    As the night deepened, the group gathered around their fire to prepare their haul. The crackling flames cast warm, flickering light on their faces as they spread a large tarp over the ground. Each fish was carefully laid out, its unique traits and magical properties ready to be examined.


    Rinku knelt beside the Obsidian Fathomfish, her sharp eyes tracing the glowing veins that coursed through its scales. She ran her fingers along the lines, her expression a mixture of awe and calculation. “This shadow essence is potent,” she said, her voice filled with appreciation. “It’ll be invaluable for crafting stealth runes or shadow-infused weapons. Imagine armor that cloaks the wearer in darkness or a blade that cuts through light itself.”


    Ngieri held up the Thunderfin Eel, still faintly sparking with residual electricity. “This one’s electricity will be perfect for energy-based charms,” she said, examining the shimmering skin. “The oil extracted from its body is also an exceptional conductor. Alchemists will fight over this kind of material.”


    Gwendon inspected the Stonebeak Sturgeon, his hand running over its jagged, rock-like scales. “These scales are tough as steel and infused with earth magic,” he observed. “They can be ground down to enhance armor, making it resistant to both physical strikes and magical attacks. Shieldsmiths will pay a premium for something like this.”


    Meanwhile, Larin worked on the Magmafin Trout, its molten-like scales radiating faint heat even in death. “The fire essence in this one is remarkable,” he said, carefully removing the scales. “It can amplify offensive spells or be distilled into alchemical fire. These fissures in its scales are practically oozing with raw energy.”


    Ngieri, examining the diminutive Glowtail Luminidae, smiled as its bioluminescent body shimmered faintly. “This one may be small, but its light essence is powerful,” she said. “It’s perfect for clarity and focus potions, and its fins can be ground into powder for creating glow runes. They’re highly sought after for enchantments.”


    The group worked with precision and efficiency, their combined knowledge transforming the evening’s catch into valuable components. Scales, fins, oils, and essences were carefully stored in enchanted containers, preserving their magical properties for future use. By the time they finished, the tarp was empty, and their packs were brimming with treasures from the Tich River.


    The group settled around the fire, exhaustion tempered by satisfaction. The night sky stretched endlessly above them, stars twinkling like fragments of crystal scattered across the heavens. The river’s gentle hum seemed to echo their thoughts, a melody of nature and magic intertwined.Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.


    “This trip was worth every effort,” Rinku said, leaning back against a log. Her braided hair caught the firelight, glowing faintly. “We’ve gathered enough materials to keep us busy for weeks. And that Fathomfish? A true prize.”


    Ngieri nodded, her smile warm. “And we did it together. That’s what made it fun. It’s always better when you can rely on your friends.”


    Gwendon’s gaze lingered on the flames, his voice thoughtful. “Nights like these remind me of what’s truly important. The work we do, the connections we have, the bond with the land and the magic within it. It all comes together out here.”


    Larin, his eyes reflecting the firelight, added, “And it’s a reminder of how much there is to learn. Each fish, every stone, every ripple in the river has a story, a purpose in this vast ecosystem. It’s our job to respect existence.”


    The fire crackled softly as their conversation faded into a comfortable silence. The stars above seemed brighter than ever, their light mingling with the faint glow of the river’s magic. The harmony of the Tich River enveloped them, a testament to their unity and the resilience that defined their bond.


    Before dawn, the ground beneath them began to tremble. The Quake shook them awake, its deep, rumbling vibrations unsettling even the calm river. Pots rattled, and the tarps swayed as the tremors subsided.


    “Another one?” Ngieri murmured, her voice tinged with unease. The group exchanged glances, the strange phenomena of the Quakes weighing heavily on their minds. Larin stood, brushing dirt off his clothes. “We should move. Better to head back to Tlangthar before anything else happens.”


    Packing quickly, they extinguished the fire and hoisted their packs. The dense forest around them was pitch black, the pre-dawn hours amplifying every sound. They cast a shared [Light Orb], the glowing sphere floating ahead and illuminating the zigzagging dirt paths that led toward Tlangthar.


    As they trekked through the undergrowth, the sound of trickling water caught their attention. Following the noise, they stumbled upon a natural spring nestled between two hills. The sight was mesmerizing: a pool of water glowing faintly with mana, its surface rippling with ethereal light.


    “The Natural Spring’s water is glowing,” Rinku whispered, her voice filled with reverence. “These are infrequent occurrences. We’d be fools not to investigate.”


    Natural springs like these were lifelines of the land, feeding into larger rivers and sustaining biodiversity. They were hotspots for rare resources, including the elusive [Source Spring Stone], a gem capable of generating a vast amount of mana-infused water. Hunters, alchemists, and magi often sought out such springs, though encounters were rare.


    The air around the spring was charged with energy, thick with mana that seemed to vibrate through their very bones. Small creatures—Aether Barking Deer, Mana-Tufted Serows, and even a few Mist Crested Civets—gathered cautiously at the edges, drawn to the spring’s allure. But something felt off. The water’s surface was bubbling unnaturally, each burst releasing small clouds of mist that thickened into a fog.


    “This doesn’t feel right,” Gwendon said, gripping his spear tightly. The group moved closer, their senses heightened. The bubbles grew more aggressive, the mist swirling as if alive.


    Then, suddenly, everything stopped. The bubbling ceased, the mist hung frozen in the air, and an eerie silence fell over the spring. Time itself seemed to freeze around them. From the center of the spring, a figure emerged—a Dryad with curly hair like tangled vines and a body of ashen bark adorned with glowing blossoms. Her presence was otherworldly, exuding both awe and a palpable sense of unease.