The mounting pile of dirt towered far beyond any human. Its mass was looming and cumbersome, ready to trap its creator at any moment, but that was a risk key was happy to take. Each shaky thrust of his shovel forced his arms to quiver while the dull steel erected only a shallow cusp of dirt. The cool air hadn’t helped with this either as his fingers grew stiff and his lungs burned, but he couldn’t stop. Not when he was so close. 

The gem lamp hung proud, its azure glow giving key a sense of solace in his harrowing time, yet as he slumped in his hole one thought claimed him. 

If it isn’t here, I’ll quit. 

With a sigh key grabbed his bag, digging through the number of empty bottles and shattered tools until he found it. His last stamina booster. It has to be here. It has to be. 

Taking a swig of the crimson ichor key let its warmth fill soothe his arms, leaving just enough will to finish his dig. Every thing rode on this hole. And if it wasn’t there, then it truly meant key had no purpose. Snatching his shovel from the earth key resumed his venture, sending lumps of dirt one after the other over the hole’s ever shrinking mouth. Each scoop fueled by nothing short of hope, frustration, and the small sliver of magic that coursed through his veins.

However, the ravenous clumps of dirt ceased as the shovel fell stiff with a sudden “thunk”. For a moment key stood rigid before launching the shovel away and scraping the frosty soil with his haggard nails. Pushing away layer after layer, the rough dark soil soon revealed a layer of aged wood riddled with cracks and wear. Though as key gazed upon the wood hope swelled in his chest and he continued to dig. With nails caked with grime and calloused hands stiffened with frost, key dusted the box with glee. His face reminiscent of a kid on Christmas. Though as key unlatched the chest his hands shook. This is it, no going back. 

And with a defiant “click” it opened.

There was no hymn nor choir of angels ready to sing of the items reveal, but as the tome glowed with its infectious emerald hue key watched it blur before him with tears rolling along his cheeks. 

Three years of effort. Three years of defiant searching and it all payed off. 

Taking a moment to collect himself key gripped the tomes rough leather carapace only to find his disbelief out weighed by the tomes sheer girth. Its many pages deformed its very body while the smut of aged paper graced keys congested nose. “I did it” key mumbled “I actually found it” hefting the book to the sky key stared at it in awe. Eying its ruddy brown sheen as it stood against the falling snow, “I did it!” key yelled, his voice resonating within the hole.

With a single sweep key gathered his belongings and left his enclosure, his arm firmly warped around the tome’s cumbersome mass. Crouching to the crunch of soft snow key joyously flipped through the book watching as the ink flashed with a brilliant viridescence. “I really did it the tome of epics it’s mine”. Basking in the tome’s vibrant glow key flinched as a branch snapped in the distance. I need to go! If I found the tome, then that means if anyone follows me… then three years of work will be for nothing!

Panic gripped his mind, and in an instant key took off for the bramble of barren trees before him. 

Fumbling through his many pockets, key snatched the frosty crystal from its domicile and clenched it with a flaring desperation. Stabbing, the crystal forward key watched as the iridescent ribbons of the gash tore apart before him. Bracing his mind for its horrid sickness key leapt through the shattered ribbons and in a blink of an eye he vanished. The snow continued to fall in the ashen glade and though none knew it; the land shook in a frigid peril. For this was the day that key began his quest to subjugate the natural world and reclaim what it meant to be a witch.