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Chapter Thirty- nine: Noah's past Reflection (3)
Killian didn’t press further, and for that, Noah was grateful. He wasn’t sure he had the strength to put everything into words just yet.The fire had long since burned out, leaving only glowing embers between them, and for a moment, the world felt still. But Noah knew better than to trust stillness. The Darklands had a way of lulling travelers into a false sense of security before striking when they least expected it.“I don’t sleep much either,” Killian admitted after a moment, breaking the silence. His voice was quieter than usual, almost contemplative. “Too many things in my head. Too many things I’ve done that won’t let me rest.”Noah glanced at him, surprised. Killian wasn’t the type to talk about himself. He had always been the steady one, the fighter who never seemed to flinch, the man who never hesitated. But now, sitting in the dim light, he seemed… human. Tired.Noah hesitated before speaking. “What did you do?”Killian sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “You ever make a
Chapter Thirty-Eight: Noah's past Reflection (2)
Noah sat by the dying embers of the campfire, his mind drifting to a time before the Darklands, before the Abyss had marked him. The others had settled in for the night, their breathing slow and steady, but sleep eluded him.His father’s voice echoed in his mind, sharp and unforgiving. "You were never meant to lead, Noah. You hesitate. You doubt. That’s what makes you weak."Noah had always struggled under the weight of his father’s expectations. The man had been a force of nature—unyielding, disciplined, and entirely without mercy. He had trained Noah from the time he could walk, pushing him beyond his limits, testing his resolve at every turn. But no matter how hard he tried, it had never been enough."A leader doesn’t second-guess himself," his father had said, after watching Noah hesitate before striking an opponent in one of their countless sparring matches. "A leader commands."Noah had never wanted to command. He had wanted freedom, choices that were his own. But fate had other
Chapter Thirty-seven: Noah's past Reflection
The fire crackled softly, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold weight settling in Noah’s chest. The others had drifted into restless sleep, exhaustion finally catching up to them after the ordeal in the Darklands. But Noah couldn’t close his eyes. Not yet.He stared into the embers, lost in thought. The hooded woman’s words echoed in his mind: You didn’t just restrain it. You claimed dominion over it.A bitter chuckle escaped him. He hadn’t sought power. He never had. But power had a way of finding him, twisting itself into his life whether he wanted it or not.The memory came unbidden—his father’s voice, sharp and full of disappointment.“You hesitate, Noah. You always hesitate. And that is why you will never be strong enough.”He had been a child then, no older than ten, standing in the courtyard of their old estate. His hands trembled around the hilt of the wooden practice sword, his opponent a boy two years older, taller, stronger. The clash of training blades echoed around the
Chapter Thirty-six: Finally
The air grew heavier, thick with a presence unseen but deeply felt. Each step forward sent a ripple through the Darklands, as though Noah’s very existence unsettled the slumbering force beneath them. The terrain twisted, shifting like a living thing reacting to their intrusion.Vance walked beside him, his daggers drawn but loose in his grip, his gaze darting to the shifting landscape. "You feel that, don’t you? It’s like the ground’s... breathing."Killian exhaled sharply. "More like watching. I don’t like it."The hooded woman kept her eyes forward, her posture rigid. "It knows you now, Noah. And it’s testing you."Noah tightened his fists, the mark on his wrist pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He could feel the connection deepening, the abyssal power within him stirring in response to the land’s awakening. The knowledge unsettled him—but fear would do him no good. He had already chosen this path.Then, without warning, the ground ahead of them cracked open.A deep, guttural soun
Chapter Thirty- five: Darklands Awakening
The silence was deafening. The darkness no longer writhed, no longer reached for him with insatiable hunger. Yet Noah could still feel its presence, distant but lingering, like an ember smoldering beneath the ash.He exhaled sharply, his muscles trembling from the effort of binding the creature. His mind swam with exhaustion, yet the weight of the moment kept him grounded.Killian staggered to his feet, dusting himself off. His usual smirk was absent, replaced by something almost wary. “So… does this mean it’s over?”Vance shot him a look, sheathing his daggers. “You really think something like that goes down without consequences?”Noah flexed his fingers, staring at the mark on his wrist. The pain had subsided, but an odd sensation remained—like a tether stretching into the void.The hooded woman stepped closer, her gaze sharp. “You’ve done what no one else could. But this is only the beginning.”Noah frowned, his heart still racing. “What do you mean?”She hesitated for the first ti
Chapter Thirty- four: Bound by shadows
The path ahead was a winding, narrow trail, barely visible under the creeping darkness that seemed to grow thicker with each passing moment. The trees loomed over them like towering giants, their twisted limbs blocking out any semblance of light. The further they went, the more Noah felt as though the land itself was closing in on them, as though the very earth were conspiring to keep them in this oppressive shadow. Noah’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. The mark on his wrist had not stopped pulsing, and the more he tried to ignore it, the more it seemed to demand his attention. It wasn’t just the mark, though—it was the whole of this place. The air felt heavy with something ancient, something old and powerful. It was the weight of forgotten things, of lost memories that no one wanted to remember. He glanced over at Killian, who was still tense and alert, his eyes darting to every shadow, every flicker of movement in the periphery. Even Vance, who usually carried himself with a s
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