Ruins of the forgotten

Darkness.

Endless, suffocating, all-consuming.

Arienne's body lay heavy against the cold, unyielding ground, as if the Abyss itself sought to pull her deeper.

A numb, aching void settled into her limbs, suffocating the edges of her awareness. Something had been taken from her—no, ripped away—leaving behind a raw emptiness where her power had once been.

Yet, she was still breathing.

The Abyss was not silent. It watched. It listened.

The very air pulsed with an unnatural rhythm, something vast and ancient exhaling in the dark.

Wisps of mist slithered through jagged rock formations, whispering like sentient things, their voices brushing against the frayed edges of her mind.

A warning. A taunt.

The stench hit her next. Decay. Rot. And something deeper—something wrong, as if the land itself was diseased, steeped in the remnants of those who had come before her and perished screaming.

She forced herself to move, biting down a gasp as her muscles protested.

The obsidian ground beneath her was fractured, slick with veins of something alive—liquid that pulsed with an eerie, iridescent glow.

Then she saw them.

Ruins stretched out before her. Broken columns. Shattered archways.

The skeletal remains of a civilization swallowed by time. Some structures still stood, covered in strange glyphs that flickered weakly before fading into the dark.

A graveyard. A prison.

A sentence.

Something moved.

Arienne stilled, her breath catching.

The shadows shifted along the jagged cliffs, twisting in ways they shouldn't.

They slithered, stretched, watched. Cold dread clawed up her spine.

She wasn't alone.

The stories had always seemed like myths. Tales whispered in dimly lit halls to frighten children.

The Abyss was where the lost were cast away, where the weak were devoured and the strong twisted into something unrecognizable.

A place where time unraveled, where sanity eroded beneath the weight of something greater.

Those who remained too long either perished—or became something worse.

Not me.

Her fingers curled into fists as she forced herself upright. The pain was immediate, sharp and relentless, but she refused to succumb.

She had to move. Staying still meant death.

The wind howled through the ruins, carrying a sound that sent ice stabbing through her chest—a low, guttural growl.

Then another.

And another.

Shapes emerged from the darkness, crawling, slithering, towering. Limbs bent at angles that defied nature. Eyes gleamed like dying embers.

Mouths gaped wide, too wide, filled with jagged teeth meant for rending flesh from bone.

Not beasts.

Things that had once been human. Now warped, consumed by the Abyss, hollowed out until nothing remained but hunger.

The Devourer's spawn.

Her stomach twisted.

There were too many.

Run.

The command struck like a lightning bolt, every instinct screaming at her to flee. But her body was too slow, too weak. She staggered backward, eyes darting for an escape.

The creatures inched closer, their growls reverberating through the ruins, claws scraping against stone.

Then they lunged.

A clawed hand slashed toward her.

She twisted away, but not fast enough—talons raked across her arm. Pain exploded, blood splattering against the obsidian ground.

Another beast surged forward, jaws snapping inches from her throat. She threw herself back, her vision blurring from exhaustion.

No. Not like this.

Rage flared, raw and unyielding.

At her betrayal. At her weakness. At this wretched fate forced upon her.

It coiled deep in her chest—something buried, something broken—

And then it ignited.

Heat surged through her veins, violent and untamed. Shadows curled around her fingers, writhing like living flames.

The pain was unbearable—her skin cracked, veins turning molten, but she didn't care.

Power—dark, all-consuming—roared to life.

She let it.

Flames erupted.

Not the golden flames of her past, but something darker. Wilder. Abyssal fire, black and violet, surged from her fingertips, twisting unnaturally as if alive.

It lashed out in a chaotic wave, devouring everything in its path.

The beasts shrieked.

Some were incinerated instantly, their bodies crumbling into nothingness. Others howled as the flames latched onto them, refusing to let go, consuming them from the inside out.

Arienne stumbled, her eyes wide.

What… what is this?

The power coursing through her veins was foreign.

It didn't feel like hers. It felt like it belonged to something else—something that had merely chosen to use her as a vessel.

Her hands shook, the flames still licking at her fingertips, whispering promises of destruction in a voice only she could hear.

The last of the beasts let out a strangled cry before collapsing into a heap of charred flesh.

Silence.

Arienne's chest rose and fell in ragged breaths, her body on the brink of collapse. She felt even emptier, more shattered than when her powers had been stripped away.

She closed her eyes, desperate for even a moment of rest.

When she suddenly felt something. A presence.

Cold. Unseen. Watching.

Arienne opened her eyes right away. She felt it before she saw him—something just beyond the veil of shadows, a stillness that did not belong to the Abyss.

Through the haze of burning flesh and dying embers, she forced herself to lift her head. Her vision blurred, her body screamed for rest, but instinct sharpened her awareness.

Someone was there.

Standing amidst the ruins, half-consumed by the darkness, was a man.

Not a beast. Not a monster. A figure wrapped in shadow, poised with an unsettling stillness.

He did not speak. He did not move. He simply observed, as though he had been there long before she noticed.

Arienne's breath caught in her throat.

His presence was suffocating. Not loud, not overbearing—just… heavy. The kind that pressed into the air itself, demanding attention without a single word.

Who is he?

The violet fire still crackled at her fingertips, but she barely noticed.

Her body swayed, exhaustion pulling her down, but she gritted her teeth and forced herself upright.

She couldn't afford weakness. Not now.

Then, finally, he spoke.