Irth’s mouth hung open as he watched his nephew trudge ahead. Blood trickled from all the boy’s orifices and, even from a distance, he could feel the rabid tides of energy skirmishing beneath Atell’s skin. The pain had to be unbearable... He was worried that whatever was occurring inside the child’s body would only hasten his demise, but as the minutes passed — the pace of their march only continued to increase until they reached a light jog.

Irth offered time and time again to carry the boy, but Atell insisted that the movement helped distract him from the pain. However, it was evident that their renewed speed was not due to an improvement in the boy’s condition; rather, it was only a result of the escalation of the conflict inside his body.

‘Please… let the child live…’ Irth prayed to whatever gods may be listening. His admiration of Atell grew with every step they took. The strength the boy possessed to continue forward was extraordinary. Irth’s gaze grew sharp as he finally understood why the Patriarch was always willing to withstand criticism and risk so much for his grandson. The boy’s presence and bearing at this moment were heroic. Atell looked like a bloodied, ancient warrior plunging headfirst back into battle… But just like those warriors of old, his end would soon be upon him.

***

Atell stumbled and fell to his knees, heaving blood and what little remained in his stomach onto the snow. The dark blood and bile painted a grim picture on the white canvas as his body failed to repair the mounting damage.

Through the gaps in the trees, Atell admired the warm trails of color left behind in Helios’ wake. He’d seen many a sunset in his life, but the one he saw now seemed so vivid and beautiful — almost surreal. Drawn into the scene, he felt his spirit soaring into the sky.

Suddenly, Irth’s concerned face appeared in front of his own, interrupting his ascent. The man’s mouth moved, but Atell couldn’t make out any of the words. He frowned and coughed up more blood as another violent clash occurred inside his stomach. The melancholy chill began creeping back through his body. It seemed the remaining energy from the Heartstone had finally lost the war… Now, Atell’s mind was stuck in an odd stasis. His soul wanted to return to the sun’s warm embrace, but his body kept sinking deeper into the cold abyss. Which was the right choice? And why couldn’t he just remain here!? It wasn’t time yet to leave his grandfather and the rest of the tribe. He hadn’t even become a Warlock yet...

Still, Atell was genuinely surprised he’d even been able to make it this far, lasting nearly the entire day. ‘I tried… I-I tried so hard…’

But it wasn’t enough. They’d nearly managed to reach the base of the mountains that composed the Severed Spine, but they were no closer to locating the medicine woman. As Atell’s vision faded, he thought he heard a faint whispering in the wind. Was it the damned souls of the Lower Realm welcoming a new arrival? He had a vague notion it may be so.

It was strange, but Atell almost felt like his blood began to boil in anticipation. Power erupted in his chest washing away his pain, but all that newfound strength could do little to make up for the amount of damage and blood loss sustained during the journey.

Atell smiled in response to the greeting of his new comrades as he sunk into the abyss.

***

Irth slung Atell over his shoulder, yelping in pain almost immediately. A searing heat was pouring out of the boy’s body. Irth set him down and observed Atell’s condition carefully.

Thin waves of golden light emerged from the youth at irregular intervals. The black network of veins could still be seen, but they seemed frozen in place, unwilling to advance or make any kind of move.

A faint tremor rippled through Irth’s blood, causing him to flinch back. He felt a clear resonance between him and his nephew, but it was profoundly odd… As he watched the boy, it was almost like he was a child again — gazing at his father with reverence. Goosebumps crawled over Irth’s skin as he forced himself to look away. Those feelings were disturbing to the grown man, so he busied himself looking for materials to make a stretcher. Urgency quickly replaced the fleeting feelings.

He figured that wood was likely to be burned by the intense heat Atell was emitting, so he scoured their surroundings for a slab of stone or rock he could drag the boy on. Irth’s desperate search quickly led him to a long and narrow gorge not too far in the distance. The ravine stretched in a straight line all the way up the side of the nearest mountain, almost splitting the peak in half. It was deep enough that he was unable to see its conclusion from the edge. Never before had Irth seen such an unnatural scar in the earth.

Suddenly, his ears perked up as he heard some faint voices in the distance. Irth crept carefully around the ravine as he struggled to locate the source. While distracted, he failed to notice the large shadow circling him in the nearby trees.

Dark claws pushed through the slush of snow and mud without making a sound as the beast stalked it’s prey, slowly creeping closer as drool leaked from its mouth. This hunt was far too easy for the experienced ambusher. Unable to contain its excitement, a low growl emerged from the creature’s throat. Irth spun around, but it was too late to react as the monster was already within striking distance. He didn’t even have time to bring his arms up as the dark shadow covered his vision.

The impact sent Irth flying through the air until he collided with the stout trunk of a tree. He opened his eyes as he sunk to the ground, anticipating a sharp claw or rows of fangs descending towards his throat; however, his demise didn’t arrive as expected… Irth struggled back to his feet, the fierce vitality of an Initiate layer Troll-Blood working to quickly repair his internal injuries.

“Oh, you’re already able to stand,” an amused voice clearly resounded through the forest. “I wanted that injury to serve as a reminder not to wander so carelessly around the Whispering Gorge, but it doesn’t seem like it will leave a lasting scar.”

Irth’s vision was still blurry, but he could faintly make out the figure of a woman standing next to the downed monster. He immediately sunk back to his knees.

“P-Please… I need some help…”

***

Atell soon found himself floating in a black, sea-like void. Or at least his mind was, his body was nowhere to be found.

The inability to move or control himself was odd, but unlike when his body was paralyzed by the Nether Energy, Atell didn’t feel anxious or helpless at the moment. Strangely enough, he wasn't bothered by it at all. He just felt… apathetic, detached from any form of emotions.

‘Is this the Nether?’ he wondered. It was certainly a dark and desolate place… In fact, there wasn’t much of anything, just a few other stray particles of light swimming around in the waters of nothingness much like he was. ‘No… probably not.’ Atell’s instincts were telling him he was in a place far different than any of the realms he knew of. The Nether would at least have substance to it — an eternal land of frost and suffering.

Here, in this void, was the beginning rather than the end. That is what Atell decided. He was unsure how he jumped to that conclusion himself; however, as time slowly passed… the first seed of emotion took root in his mindscape. Anticipation. There was something he was looking forward to. What it was and when it would occur still remained a mystery, but he knew it would be a grand spectacle.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Days… weeks… maybe even year passed as he rolled through the tides of time. There was no telling how long he waited, yet his eagerness was only heightened by the gap.

Eventually, he noticed a form taking shape above him. An indistinct mass of land was forming atop the primal sea. From its surface rose the hazy silhouette of a man. The man paused for a moment, gazing down upon the void like a king observing his domain. Atell felt his heart pounding as the man’s eyes swept over him. An overwhelming feeling of reverence and devotion surged through his mind.

Satisfied with what he saw, the man nodded once and opened his mouth wide. Atell thought that the man may be calling out to him, but instead, the figure spewed forth the wind and the rain.

For the first time, Atell felt something other than his own desires in the dark sea. His mind reacted subconsciously, attempting to breathe in the air as he felt it carry traces of moisture across his nonexistent skin. He looked back up at the man who had created something out of nothing. What kind of being could wield such power? It went far beyond what he expected even Gods were capable of.

His fervent gaze went unnoticed by the man who suddenly collapsed back into the earth. Atell despaired… and then grew furious as the man’s children ignored his peril. They flew around the void giving birth to the earth and the sky as their father slept. Atell could only watch as the water and air continued to intertwine eventually creating the children that would rule over the world they had formed.

Life flourished under the watch of these children. One rose up into the sky to watch from above while his brother was banished to the underworld to guide the departed souls. Another of the children remained in the land to control the weather…

At this point, Atell knew that he was witnessing the advent of a new Plane. And sure enough, the light of the World Tree soon extended its roots into the earth.

When this occurred the man who had started it all finally awoke. Everything that had happened was laid bare before his eyes and he was angered by his children’s procreation in his absence. The man stepped into the new Plane’s underworld from the void and greeted its ruler. This child of the dead had been betrayed just like he was. Once ruling alongside his brother on the earth until he was murdered and damned to the underworld to judge the dead.

The creator spoke with the king of the underworld at length. Atell couldn’t make out what was being said, but judging by their grave expressions — it likely involved the fate of the Plane itself. After concluding their discussion, the creator rose into the sky, joining the child who shed light upon the land and merging himself into the sun.

When this occurred, a massive change took place in the Plane. The creator quickly exerted his new control over the world's light, forcing it to descend from the sky. For the first time ever, the earth was plunged into darkness as the sun sunk below the horizon.

And as night blanketed the world, so too did the darkness obscure Atell’s vision…

***

“Hey, kiddo,” a soft voice drifted into Atell’s ears as his eyelids fluttered open.

His mind was overwhelmed by the tangled mess of emotions and memories of his final moments that quickly resurfaced. However, there was also an uncomfortable feeling settled in his gut like he was forgetting something important...

“...Am I…?” Atell’s incomplete question lingered in the air.

“Shh, It’s okay. You’re safe now.” Warm hands wrapped around Atell’s own. They were soft and slightly wrinkled, but he felt greatly comforted by their presence. His gaze still hadn’t left the wooden beams crisscrossing underneath the ceiling. Atell was initially afraid to look around and find himself in the presence of a Fiend or something far worse. Death had seemed like a foregone conclusion.

Sky blue eyes stared into his own as Atell turned his head. His entire body quaked in the presence of the mature woman’s gentle smile. Whimpers emerged unbidden from his throat. He tried his best to fight back against them, he’d been crying far too much recently. Something he’d vowed never to do again after his father passed. Try as he may, the surging relief and joy only intensified his sobs.

The woman continued to gently stroke his hand as all his pent-up emotions were released. Minutes passed by before Atell was finally able to collect himself enough to speak.

“M-My u-uncle… Wh-where is…?” It was difficult to express himself through the choked sobs.

“Your uncle is fine. He’s already explained to me all that happened,” The woman replied.

“C-Can I see him?” Atell asked between more hiccups.

“I’m afraid not. He already left weeks ago to return to your tribe with the news.”

‘Weeks ago…?’ Those words struck Atell like a bolt of lightning.

“I’ve… How long have I been asleep?”

“Hmm…” The woman considered the question for a moment. “...It’s now the 4th week of Spring, so… about 11 weeks, I’d say.”

Atell’s mind blanked as he struggled to comprehend the answer.

“...H-How?”

“Well, it’s not too strange for a Demon to enter a dormant state when undergoing a Bloodline Awakening. I think yours was only so long because your body had to completely repair itself in addition to undergoing the changes brought about by the advent of true blood.”

The woman’s response only led Atell towards a multitude of new questions. He’d never heard of the Bloodline Awakening she spoke of. More importantly, there was the matter of who she was, where they were, and so on.

“...You’ve got guts, kid,” The woman continued as Atell contemplated silently. “I mean, pitting that kind of volume of Flux Essence against the Nether Energy inside your Origin Channels… In the best case scenario for anyone else they would have been completely crippled. Most would have just imploded.”

“I had no other choice.” Atell wasn’t exactly sure why he suddenly spoke up to defend himself.

“That’s not entirely true, is it?” The woman grinned. Her smile felt uncharacteristically childish considering her age. “You could have just let it be. Let the Nether Energy run its natural course, so to speak. But... I’m not sure how far along the Corruption was, so it’s difficult to say if you would have made it to the gorge had you not…” she trailed off.

“So… am I cured?”

“Should be. I’ve only ever worked with the Corruption once before — some idiot who let his contracted Mana Beast wander too close to a Shard. Anyway, your case was relatively easy. Your Awakening greatly suppressed the Nether Energy, so it wasn’t difficult to extract.”

Atell’s chest deflated as he released a deep breath.

“Do you… Do you know how it may have happened? I thought only the dead could be corrupted by Nether Energy.”

“You’re not entirely wrong. That Shard near your home is actually a Gate…” Before Atell could speak up, the woman continued. “...I’m assuming you don’t know what a Gate is?”

Atell nodded.

“A Gate is just an active Shard. In between the Incursions, not all Shards return to a dormant state. Some remain connected to the Lower Realm and release dense amounts of Nether Energy that can even infect the living if ingested in concentrated doses. Well, only the living that haven’t formed their Mana Pools yet,” the woman clarified. “So all in all, a pretty rare occurrence.”

“T-That’s…”

“...Very dangerous. Don’t worry, I already reported the matter to the nearest City Administrator, considering the Gate’s proximity to the Dynasty. Between them and the Coven, it shouldn’t have been difficult to seal up. Although, I’d say the conflict for the remaining Heartstone will be more dangerous and violent than any Gate could be right now…”

Atell’s head sank back into the pillow as his eyes returned to the ceiling.

“Thank you…” he muttered.

“Your welcome. Now, how’s your body feeling?”

“...Sore.”

“Alright, I’ll have you remain in bed for the day. Tomorrow I’ll guide you through all your duties, so be prepared for that.”

“W-Wait… duties?”

“Yea, you’ll be working as my assistant. Been a while since I had one.”

“I-I can’t! I have to get back to my tribe…” Atell exclaimed, shooting upright.

“I wouldn’t be so eager to go trekking through the Hinterlands at this point in time. Not exactly like you have a choice either. That was a pretty expensive operation I had to perform on you, so you’ll be in my service until you pay off the debt.”

“B-But…”

“No buts. I already worked out the details with your Uncle before he left. Name’s Sivelle, by the way. I look forward to working with you, Atell.”

Sivelle flashed a cheeky smile before disappearing from the room, leaving Atell alone with his thoughts.