2025-03-27 21:30:00
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I Wont Survive This
Liora didn’t hesitate.She stepped forward, mud streaking her skirts, her breath coming in ragged gasps. In her trembling hands, she clutched a jagged branch snapped from a fallen tree, bark still raw and bleeding sap. She raised it like a sword, planting herself between Harlan and Carmen. Her eyes burned with defiance.“Stay back!” She shouted, her voice quivering with fury and fear. “You don’t get to touch her!”For a moment, everything went still. Even the wind seemed to hold its breath.Harlan halted, amused. His lips curled into a cruel smirk, as if watching a child pretend at war. “How quaint,” he said softly, his voice a mockery of politeness.Then came the strike.A flash of metal—a gauntleted hand swung with brutal precision. The crack echoed like thunder, reverberating through the clearing. Liora’s head snapped sideways. She staggered, then crumpled to the ground, her makeshift weapon tumbling from her grasp. She landed in the grass with a soft, broken moan, one arm limp ben
Found You!
A Village Between Eryndall and Aerondale, DuskCarmen clutched the pendant tightly, its metallic surface strangely warm against her palm, pulsing as though it carried a heartbeat of its own. The twilight wind tugged at the hem of her cloak, stirring fallen leaves that danced like restless spirits across the path. She slipped the pendant into the hidden pocket sewn inside her cloak, her fingers trembling.She should’ve thrown it away. After what happened in Eryndall, after the confusion and fear, after the way Calen Storm had looked straight through her like a stranger—she should’ve rid herself of this cursed thing. But something deep within her refused.Not fear. Not even hope.Purpose.She didn’t know where to find him—only that she must.Her boots crunched softly on the gravel path as she approached the small cottage nestled at the village’s edge. The structure was modest, its stone walls cloaked in ivy, its thatched roof sagging slightly under the weight of time. Yellow firelight s
The Truth
Shadowmere, Hours LaterThe world returned to Calen in fragments—like slivers of broken glass refracting memory instead of light.His eyelids fluttered open, heavy as stone. He found himself lying atop a velvet-cushioned divan, its frame carved from blackheart oak and etched with inlaid silver. The ceiling above shimmered with enchanted reflections, as if moonlight were filtering through an unseen lake far above. Schools of translucent silverfish—creatures native only to the deepest sanctums of Shadowmere—drifted lazily across the arched dome, their luminescence casting a ghostly glow over the chamber.The air was heavy with the scent of cedar smoke and crushed lilies. Magic clung to it—subtle, but ancient. Living.Calen shifted, feeling the dampness of his own sweat clinging to his tunic. His skin was cold, unnaturally so, despite the warmth that radiated gently from the runed stones beneath the divan. His breath came in shallow pulls, as if his lungs remembered drowning.A figure st
The Calling
The dining hall of Shadowmere was a dream conjured into stone and light.Walls of polished obsidian curved in elegant arches, veined with coral that glowed like veins of gold beneath translucent skin. Above them, a vast domed ceiling of enchanted glass revealed the lake’s heart: water shimmered with moonlight that never faded, though no moon truly reached this depth. The surface rippled softly overhead, casting waves of dancing silver light across every corner. Through the water drifted schools of pale silverfish, trailing long filaments like ribbons behind them. When they passed, their shadows danced across the dark stone floor, flickering like spirits in an ancient ritual.Calen stepped into the hall as if walking into another world.His dark sapphire robe flowed around his legs like a midnight tide, adorned with sigils stitched in silver thread—symbols of wind, wave, and the deep. The attendants had chosen it carefully, and though it fit him well, he still felt like a child in cere
Genious
Carmen’s breath came in shallow gasps as she urged her weary horse forward, the city of Eryndall shrinking behind her like a shadow she could never fully outrun. Her fingers tightened nervously around the reins, the echo of Harlan’s threats still burning in her mind. Where could she go now? The once-familiar roads offered no safety, only memories tangled with danger.After what felt like hours of wandering aimlessly, Carmen recalled the small village she had visited just the day before. A humble place nestled near the forest’s edge, where an old friend awaited—a rare flicker of hope in a world turned hostile. She set her course toward it, heart pounding with both relief and fear.But doubt gnawed at her relentlessly. “What if Harlan’s men are already on my trail?” she whispered to herself, eyes scanning the darkening horizon. The sun dipped low, casting the sky in bruised shades of orange and purple that bled into twilight. The village lay ahead, but Carmen hesitated.Pulling her horse
Unfinished Business
The streets of Eryndall bustled with late afternoon energy—vendors shouting, carriages clattering over cobblestones, the scent of roasted chestnuts and burnt oil lingering in the air. But Harlan strode through it all like a man cheated by fate, his lips twisted in a sneer and his mood as foul as the dust on his boots.He had returned with nothing.Calen Storm had vanished into the Forbidden Woods, and word was spreading fast. No body had been recovered, but everyone assumed the same. "Bastard took the coward’s way out," Harlan spat under his breath. “Suicide wrapped in heroism.” He should’ve been dragging Calen in chains to Aerondale—humiliated, broken. He should’ve been receiving applause, gold, maybe even a title. Instead… nothing. Nothing but silence and whispers.As he passed a market square, something—someone—caught his eye.A flash of silver-blonde hair. A familiar curve of the jaw. His step slowed.“Well, well…” he drawled, his lips curling into a slow, poisonous smile. “Look wh
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