The jagged paths of the Lost Peaks tore at Solena’s feet, each step igniting sharp pain that shot up her battered legs. Every muscle in her body burned, and the biting wind gnawed at her exposed skin, but it was the silence—the heavy, suffocating quiet—that chilled her more deeply than the cold ever could. It was an echo, hollow and vast, of the life she’d left behind. Her ragged gasps were lost in the unrelenting wind, each exhale scraped raw by the unforgiving air. With every breath, her strength seemed to seep into the unyielding stone beneath her, leaving her more drained with each step.
Tannis’ attack had done more than wound her body; it had splintered her spirit, leaving her thoughts fractured and raw. She wasn’t running from him anymore—she was fleeing from herself, from the shadow of what she had become. Once, she would have laughed at the absurdity of it all. Just a few weeks ago, her greatest worry was healing a village elder’s stubborn gout. The memory surfaced, wry and mocking, then dissolved into the void within her.
Each step pulled her further from who she had once been, eroding the identity of the Healer that had once anchored her in a world of certainty. Now, only something unfamiliar, something monstrous and fractured, remained. Solena faltered, the loose shale shifting treacherously beneath her feet as she struggled against the alien power surging inside her—a dark force, the very antithesis of the sun magic that had once been her lifeline.
Her strength bled into the rocks below. The cold wind cut at her, sharp as blades. A gust swept past, cruel and cutting, as if the Peaks themselves conspired to push her back. The wind whistled through the narrow crevices, a chilling mockery of whispers that seemed to taunt her resolve. “The Lost Peaks,” she muttered, a bitter smile twisting her cracked lips. “Fitting.” The words rang hollow, more like a distant echo of a joke she barely remembered than anything real. The memory of her voice faded, leaving behind only a gnawing emptiness.
Suddenly, her legs gave out, and she sank to her knees, the jagged stone biting through her worn clothing as she gasped for air. Exhaustion blurred the world around her, turning sharp peaks into amorphous shapes, but the clawing insistence to survive refused to let her yield. Her fingers found a desert plant stubbornly rooted in the rock, its life a defiant testament to endurance. The coarse texture met her trembling fingers, rough against the chill of her skin. She reached out, and the moment her skin brushed its surface, its vibrant essence drained, wilting like a bloom under a scorching sun, leaving behind a brittle husk—a hollow echo of life, stolen.
A surge of guilt coiled in her chest, squeezing tighter with each breath. Only Eldari Reapers were allowed to take life, and only with sacred purpose, their rituals sanctioned by divine decree. The memory of an elder Reaper, eyes closed and murmuring ancient prayers as they performed the Final Harvest, flared in her mind, sharp and uninvited. Yet here she was, a thief of life, taking for her own survival. Each stolen pulse was a betrayal, an indelible mark she feared she would never cleanse.
“Forgive me,” she whispered, her voice fragile as the wind that stole it away. The line she had crossed could never be undone. But surrendering herself to the wilds felt like a coward's choice. If she were truly forsaken, she would face it, but the thought of offering herself to the Lost Peaks and the lurking Voidfiends twisted her resolve with a terror she could not ignore. The Veil to the Elseworld—where the dead rested—suddenly felt closer, a shadow looming at the fringes of her thoughts, whispering of finality. Torn between impossible choices, she forced herself to stand, pushing into the shrouded expanse that seemed to close around her like a living thing.
“No one is coming,” she murmured, tasting the bitterness of the words as they fell into the silence.
The Eldari had left her to the mountains and the Voidfiends, monstrous echoes of chaos and hunger, beings that devoured magic and left emptiness in their wake. For reasons no one fully understood, they had been confined to the Lost Peaks in recent years, waiting like vultures for the unwary. Not even Tannis had come for her. The memory of his fury, laced with betrayal, sat like a stone in her chest, an unyielding weight she couldn’t lift.
A shiver ran down her spine as a putrid stench hit her, unmistakable and sharp—the foul breath of decay that signaled Voidfiends. The acrid tang of death gnawed at her senses. Shadows writhed within the fog ahead, grotesque shapes emerging with the sickly glint of moonlight on their slick bodies. Fear shot through her, primal and overpowering, forcing her exhausted limbs into motion. Her body obeyed only in fits and starts, dragging her forward with each uneven step. The sharp scent clawed at her senses, cutting through the frigid air with cruel precision, mixing with the faint metallic tang of blood from her split lips.
The Voidfiends shrieked, their twisted forms moving with an unnatural, frantic energy. The stench thickened as they approached, their guttural snarls bouncing off the stone walls, a haunting symphony that encircled her. Solena’s heart thundered, each beat a frantic plea as her muscles screamed in protest. She stumbled, catching herself with a panicked glance over her shoulder. Predatory eyes locked onto her, their disfigured jaws stretching wider as they neared.
Terror sharpened her senses, pushing her past the limits of her exhaustion. The sound of their bodies scraping and dragging along the ground made her skin crawl. The echo of their pursuit pounded in her ears, mingling with the throb of her own pulse. Her vision narrowed, edged with the blur of tears, as she searched desperately for a path of escape.
A sharp turn loomed ahead, and she veered into it, nearly tripping over the uneven rocks. Shadows played tricks on her, elongating grotesquely in the moonlight, mocking her desperate flight. The Voidfiends didn’t falter; their pursuit was relentless, their twisted limbs propelling them forward like frenzied marionettes. The pulse of her heart throbbed wildly, mirroring the cacophony of their shrieks. Her vision blurred with tears as she ran, the path sloping treacherously downward toward a cliff’s edge that dropped into a yawning darkness.
Drawing on the last shreds of sun magic she had stolen from the plant, a final surge of energy flooded her veins. She forced her legs to move faster, sprinting for the cliff's edge, heart pounding against her ribcage. The Veil to the Elseworld whispered to her again, seductively promising rest. The thought of surrender brushed against her, tempting and cool, like the edge of sleep. Her vision frayed at the edges; if she was going to fall, at least the choice would be her own.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
But before she could make that choice, a Voidfiend lunged, its serrated teeth snapping in the air behind her. The sound shattered her thoughts, and instinct drove her forward, stumbling in a desperate bid to stay alive. The rocks beneath her feet shifted, tiny avalanches of stone scattering into the void below.
The jagged cliffs came into view, their edges sharp and unforgiving. The chasm yawned beneath her, a cruel invitation to oblivion. Panic surged, locking her in place as the Voidfiends closed in, their guttural snarls vibrating through the ground and deep into her bones.
They advanced, eyes glistening with a malevolent hunger. Solena’s breath caught in her chest, the last vestiges of her magic spent, leaving her vulnerable and raw. Her gaze darted around, searching for anything—any last chance for salvation—only to find the stone and the advancing darkness. Though they could no longer sense her magic, their need to consume was undiminished; the essence of her life was still enough to feed their insatiable hunger.
A sudden rift split the silence, a shockwave tearing through the night sky. The very air seemed to tremble, vibrating with raw, electric power. The clouds above fractured, torn apart by a light so bright it seared through the dark. The illumination swept across the craggy terrain, painting every jagged shadow in stark brilliance. Solena's breath caught as the light condensed into a blinding sphere, its sheer force pressing her to her knees, eyes wide with awe and disbelief.
From the heart of the radiance stepped a figure, a woman cloaked in flowing, luminous mist, her gaze fierce and unyielding. Her eyes burned with a white fire that seemed both ancient and endlessly powerful, slicing through the darkness and the terror that gripped Solena’s chest. The light pressed against her skin, warm and searing, driving back the cold that had settled deep into her bones.
The Voidfiends faltered, their grotesque shrieks turning to whimpers as they quaked under the relentless brilliance. One by one, they fled, their twisted forms dissolving into inky wisps that slithered into the cracks of the mountains, banished by the force that stood before them.
“Solena,” the figure said, her voice resonant, like the toll of a thousand temple bells. “I am Seraphina, Goddess of Life and the Harvest.”
A shiver coursed through Solena, awe and disbelief warring within her as she knelt, unable to tear her gaze from the goddess. The divine light seeped into her, warming her soul in a way she hadn’t felt in what seemed like an eternity. It pulsed in time with her heartbeat, weaving through the pain and fear, filling the hollow spaces left by doubt. The warmth worked its way deeper, loosening the frozen knots of despair clinging to her spirit.
Tears gathered in her eyes as she whispered, raw and unguarded, “I thought I was forsaken.” The words tumbled out, a confession she hadn’t known she was holding.
Seraphina’s gaze softened, though the power in her voice did not waver. “You are not forsaken, Solena. You carry within you both light and shadow, and I have need of you.” Each word resonated through her, pressing against the ragged wounds hidden beneath her skin, offering a balm she didn’t know she needed. The calm that settled over her was fragile, but it was there, a glint of determined fortitude.
Relief unraveled the tight coil in her chest, though a thread of doubt remained, winding around her heart like a vine. She let the light wash over her, seeping into the cracks that grief and fear had carved into her spirit.
The question that gnawed at her rose unbidden. She looked up, eyes searching Seraphina’s for answers. “Why me? I’m... an abomination.”
Seraphina’s eyes glimmered, a mix of sorrow and resolve. “An abomination only to those who fear what they cannot understand,” she said, her tone gentle yet firm. “To me, you are a bridge between worlds, the only one who can guide both toward balance. The Eldari and the Tharak are tearing this world apart, and time is running out. Only one who embodies both the light and the shadow can end this conflict.”
The goddess’s radiance pulsed once more, pressing against Solena, drawing her into a vision that eclipsed the cold and the dark. Battlefields sprawled before her, drenched in blood and chaos, warriors clashing under stormy skies, and villages devoured by fire. The screams of the wounded and the crackling of burning timber filled her ears, each sound a thread woven into the tapestry of agony and ruin. Staggering among the injured were undead soldiers that lumbered across the chaos, eyes glowing with unholy light, fighting without pause, twisted parodies of the living.
Seraphina’s voice anchored her amidst the torrent, each word a lifeline. “This is your world, Solena—a cycle of suffering that feeds upon itself. You are more than just a Healer. You are both the light that heals and the shadow that commands. You, my child, are also a Necromancer.”
The vision shifted, pulling her to scenes of wide-eyed children hiding in the ruins, their small hands clutching each other for comfort, eyes reflecting pure, unbridled terror. Seraphina’s tone softened, urgency threading through it. “Only by embracing every part of yourself—both light and shadow—can you stop this. Your world’s future rests on your choice.”
The images dissolved like mist, and Solena found herself on the ground, breathless, Seraphina’s words echoing in her mind, their weight pressing into her chest.
“The eclipse is near,” Seraphina said, her voice solemn. “An ancient prophecy speaks of one born of both light and shadow, a figure who will bridge the gap and bring unity to a sundered world.”
Seraphina’s hand touched Solena’s shoulder, solid and warm, an anchor in the storm of uncertainty. “The time of decision approaches. Will you be the force that mends the fracture, or will you let chaos reign?”
As Seraphina’s light began to fade, leaving only the vast expanse of night and the whisper of mountain winds, confusion battled with a newfound resolve within Solena. The whispers of prophecy brushed against her consciousness, fleeting as smoke, leaving a faint hum in her ears. She was no longer just a Healer, no longer just the forsaken. But was she capable of being more?
The wind seemed to echo her doubts, carrying the chill of unanswered questions. But deep within her, where Seraphina’s light had touched, a fragile ember of resolve sparked. She was both light and shadow, and if that was her fate, then she would learn to wield both. The path ahead was uncertain, but with the goddess’s words ringing in her heart, she dared to believe she could face it.
The Peaks stood silent around her, no longer just an empty shroud but a landscape brimming with the echoes of Seraphina’s command. The memory of the Voidfiends’ pursuit lingered, but Seraphina’s intervention had shifted the balance, filling the air with a promise of change. The silence that followed felt charged, alive with the possibility of something new. A subtle, tingling awareness swept over her, as if the mountains themselves held their breath. As her limbs grew heavy, exhaustion finally claimed her, and she crumpled to the ground, the weight of the night pulling her under.
The last thing she heard before darkness claimed her was the faint murmur of voices speaking in the Tharak tongue. Alarm flared weakly, smothered by fatigue, each syllable brushing past her awareness like a ghost. Footsteps drew closer, crunching over stone, but Solena’s body was spent, her awareness slipping beyond reach. The figures moved toward her, indistinct shadows against the dim light still warming her heart. Then, silence.