The Forgotten Awakens

"They called me weak. Powerless. A ghost in my sister's shadow."

"But look at them now."

The battlefield is silent, save for the dying groans of those who dared stand against me. Shadows coil around my feet, slithering like restless serpents, their hunger insatiable as they feast upon the life still clinging to broken bodies. The air is thick with the scent of blood and charred flesh, the aftermath of an annihilation so absolute that even the bravest of warriors would recoil at the sight.

My army—the dead I have claimed—rises behind me, their once-defiant eyes now empty voids reflecting my will. My power has reshaped them, twisted them into something beyond death. Hollow-eyed, they wait, bound to my command, their blades still dripping with the warmth of life stolen moments ago.

I stand at the center of it all, a reaper draped in shadow, and I revel in the stunned silence from those who once mocked me.

This is the moment the world learns my name.

But before this power, before this reckoning—

I was nothing.

Yesterday

I was a ghost. A forgotten name. The boy who was never enough.

Riven Voss. A powerless orphan living in the shadow of his sister, Selene Voss, a legendary warrior of our faction. She was everything I wasn't—strong, respected, feared. And yet, she never looked down on me. She was my only family, the only one who believed in me.

But everything shattered the night Selene was assassinated.

The Night the World Shattered

The night was cold. Too cold.

Selene and I had always trained at the old ruins outside the city walls, far from the judging eyes of others. It was supposed to be safe. Neutral ground. But safety is an illusion, and neutrality is a lie.

I remember the way the moonlight glinted off her blade as she turned to me with that confident smirk.

"You're getting faster," she said, nudging my shoulder. "One day, you might even beat me."

I never got the chance to prove her wrong.

They came without warning—shadows moving like whispers in the dark. Assassins, trained killers, faster than anything I had ever seen. One moment, we were laughing, and the next, she was pushing me aside, her sword clashing against steel as figures poured out of the night.

"Run!" she screamed.

But I couldn't. I was frozen, watching in horror as she cut down one, then another, her movements a deadly dance of precision and power. But there were too many. Even for her.

Blades flashed. Blood sprayed. She faltered.

And then she fell.

Her body hit the ground with a sound that shattered my world.

"Riven—" Her voice was a whisper, choking on her own blood. She reached for me, her fingers trembling, her once-unbreakable strength slipping away. "Run."

I didn't.

I couldn't.

I screamed. I fought. I swung blindly, but I was weak, just like they always said. A disappointment. A failure. I couldn't protect her. I couldn't even protect myself.

A blade found my stomach. Another tore through my shoulder. I collapsed beside her, my world drowning in pain and fading light. The assassins loomed over us, their dark eyes empty of mercy.

"Kill him too," one of them muttered. "He's not worth anything."

They turned their backs on me.

And that was their mistake.

Because in that moment, something inside me shattered.

Or perhaps, something finally woke up.

The First Death. The First Shadow.

Darkness swallowed me whole.

My body burned, but my soul? It twisted, writhed, changed. A force unlike anything I had ever felt surged through my veins—cold, merciless, hungry.

A voice in the darkness.

A power buried deep in my blood.

A shadow that should not exist.

Selene's shadow rose.

For a split second, she was there again—a flickering figure of darkness, standing between me and the assassins. Her voice was faint, like an echo from the abyss.

"Run, Riven."

Then—she vanished.

The power slipped through my fingers. I was too weak. I couldn't even hold onto her shadow.

The assassins turned to me next. But something in me had already changed. My fear was gone. In its place, rage and grief merged into something deadly. My own shadow shifted, twisting into something monstrous.

One by one, they fell. Their bodies twitched. Their eyes went wide with terror as the darkness swallowed them whole. My hands—covered in their blood—trembled, but not from fear. Not from pain.

From power.

For the first time in my life, I was not weak.

For the first time, they feared me.

The last of them tried to run. I let him. I wanted him to carry the message.

Riven Voss is dead.

But something else has taken his place.

Now

I stare at the battlefield before me, at the army of the fallen that stands at my command. Their hollow eyes glow with the same darkness that now courses through my veins.

The world thinks Selene Voss died taking them down. They don't know the truth.

Neither of us truly died that night.

And now, the Forgotten has awakened.