Darkness. It was not the comforting kind that wrapped around you like a blanket during sleep. This was an abyss—cold, infinite, and suffocating. Asher drifted, his body weightless, as though he no longer existed in any tangible form.

He had pulled the trigger. He was certain of that. The roaring gunshot still echoed in his mind, mixing with the image of blood spraying the walls—a grotesque mirror of the lives stolen from him. Delaney’s laughter, the way her small arms wrapped tightly around his neck after bedtime stories—it was gone. Rachel’s betrayal, her lies, her death—it was all tangled in his thoughts, a relentless storm he couldn’t escape.

Was this death?

The void stirred. A faint hum pierced the silence, growing louder until it felt like the air itself vibrated with unseen power. Asher groaned, the weightless stillness giving way to pain as his body became tangible once more. Light erupted around him, jagged and blinding, tearing through the darkness. He fell, tumbling through a kaleidoscope of fractured colors, until the world beyond the void snapped into focus.

Asher landed hard, the air punched from his lungs as he sprawled onto damp, moss-covered ground. He coughed, his chest heaving as he rolled onto his back. Above him, two suns burned in the sky—one a molten orange orb, the other a cool silver disk casting pale light across the terrain.

He pushed himself upright, blinking against the surreal brightness. The ground beneath him glowed faintly, veins of luminescent blue energy snaking across the dirt like a living map. Massive trees loomed overhead, their trunks gnarled and twisted, their leaves glowing faintly with an otherworldly light. Streams of crystalline water wove through the forest, reflecting the light of the twin suns.

Despite the beauty surrounding him, Asher felt a deep unease. It was too quiet, as though the land itself were holding its breath.

“You have arrived.”

The voice was deep and resonant, vibrating through Asher’s chest like the hum of the Veins beneath his feet. He spun, fists clenched, and froze.

Before him stood a figure wreathed in shifting light and shadow, its form towering and insubstantial. The being’s body crackled with energy, faint tendrils of light curling around its edges like smoke. Its face was a swirling void, its features unreadable, but its presence was suffocating.

“You are not meant to be here,” the figure said, its voice weary, as though it carried the weight of countless years.

“I didn’t ask to be here,” Asher shot back, his voice raw. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”

The figure tilted its head, the motion slow and deliberate. “Nor did I. Yet here we are, mortal.”

The being’s form flickered, and its edges wavered like a flame caught in the wind. Aetheros straightened, its voice faltering as though it had to summon great effort to speak. “I am Aetheros,” it said at last, the name resonating with an ancient power. “The Keeper of the Veins. And you… you are in Aeloria. A world that dies, as all things do.”

“Aeloria?” Asher repeated, the name alien yet strangely familiar. His fists clenched, trembling as his rage bubbled beneath the surface. “Why am I here? I should be dead.”

Aetheros’s light dimmed, flickering violently before steadying. “Your rage brought you here,” it said quietly. “Your conviction for oblivion burned brighter than the stars, and I felt its pull. You sought destruction, mortal, and destruction is what Aeloria knows. It is why I brought you.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Brought me for what? You think I care about your broken world? My family is gone. My life is gone.”

“And yet your will persists,” Aetheros replied, its voice trembling with an emotion Asher couldn’t place. “Do you think I do not know loss?”

Asher hesitated, staring into the void where its face should have been.

“I once stood among gods, as you once stood among a family. Vorlath, Sylthara—they were my kin, bound by creation and purpose. And now? They are lost, twisted into shadows of what they were. The Sundering took them from me, just as it has taken all from you. Do you think I do not understand your pain?”

Asher’s jaw tightened, his fists trembling at his sides. He thought of Delaney’s laughter, her small hand clutching his, her innocent belief that he could protect her. “Then you should know better than to waste your time. I couldn’t save them. What makes you think I can save your world?”

Aetheros seemed to hesitate, its light dimming further. “You are all I have left,” it said softly. “If I could choose another, I would. But your fire burns too brightly to extinguish here. And I am desperate.”

Asher stared at the being, the flickering light and shadow that barely held its form together. Despite his anger, he felt a pang of something—pity, perhaps, though he hated to admit it. They were both hollow, clinging to fragments of a life they could never recover.

Aetheros straightened, its voice regaining strength. “The Skyward Throne,” it said, gesturing toward the horizon, “is where it began and where it must end. Mortal ambition tore the heavens, and mortal hands must mend them. If you fail, all you love—all you were—will be consumed.”

The glow of Aetheros faded, but before it disappeared completely, its voice returned, sharp and deliberate. “This bond is not made lightly, mortal. I have given you a part of myself—knowledge to guide you, and a link to my strength. Through this, we are tied. Your victory will be mine… and your failure will end us both.”

Asher winced, the voice like static in his mind, and then stumbled as a flood of images and sensations overwhelmed him. He saw the jagged peaks of Cael’tharyn rising against the fractured sky, the endless glow of the Veins stretching across the land, and the twin suns burning above.

When the visions faded, Asher stood in silence, his chest heaving. “So, this is what I’ve got to work with,” he muttered bitterly, his fists trembling.

The guttural roar shattered the stillness, and Asher froze. Emerging from the shadows was a massive beast, its body twisted and grotesque, as though warped by the Veins themselves.

The creature paused, then snapped its head toward Asher with inhuman speed. Its many eyes glowed with malevolence, locking onto him like a predator scenting prey.

Jaws opening wide as a sickening pulse of energy spread through the Veins. Asher watched in horror as the glowing blue lines dimmed, their light twisting into black tendrils that slithered into the creature’s body.

The forest seemed to groan in protest, the corrupted Veins crackling like dry leaves. The beast reared back, its grotesque form bulging as the stolen energy coursed through it. Its focus never wavered from Asher.

He crouched low, his pulse hammering in his ears. “Alright,” he muttered, his voice steady despite the fear curling in his gut. “Let’s see what this world’s got.”