Chapter 7: Shadows of the Hunt

The forest was alive with the promise of death.

Every branch snapped like a broken bone, every shadow seemed to hide a blade.

I ran, my bare feet bleeding over sharp roots, Dren's shattered relic burning in my pocket.

Nyra ran beside me, her breath ragged, her knife gleaming under the moonlight.

Lirien's amulet, clutched tightly in my hand, pulsed faintly—its white light barely a whisper against the black veins now crawling up my neck, clawing at my face like living talons.

The Threshold wouldn't stop speaking, its voice a roar in my mind:

"Run, Echo, but you won't escape. The throne calls you, and the Sins are already hunting."

Nyra stumbled, grabbing my arm to steady herself.

"Move, Arion!" she hissed, her voice thick with urgency. "They're close."

I didn't need to ask who.

The Water Kingdom's hunters, alerted by the purple flash of my last outburst, would be on us.

And after Nobody, after the rift in the sky, I knew something worse was coming.

Something that wasn't human.

A howl tore through the air—not animal, but twisted, as if the forest itself was screaming.

Nyra stopped, blade raised.

"Ether beasts," she muttered, eyes scanning the shadows. "Your power drew them in."

"It's not my power," I growled, though I knew I was lying.

The Ether was part of me.

A curse I couldn't undo.

But there was no time for guilt.

The shadows moved—and three creatures emerged.

Wolf-shaped bodies with obsidian skin and red eyes burning like embers.

Their claws shredded the ground, carving furrows that sizzled with purple glow.

"Cover yourself!" Nyra shouted, unleashing a blast of wind that sliced the air like a guillotine.

The first beast dodged, its claws tearing through a tree like paper.

I hit the ground, the amulet pulsing in my hand.

The Ether roared, begging to be unleashed, but my body was already at its limit.

Blood dripped from my eyes, staining my vision red.

Using it again could kill me.

But I had no choice.

The second beast leapt at Nyra, jaws wide, and she barely blocked with her knife—metal shrieking against claw.

"Arion!" she screamed, voice cracking.

"Use me," whispered the Threshold, its laughter like a blade in my skull. "Or she dies."

I squeezed the amulet.

Lirien's light fought back the darkness.

"You are enough," she had said.

But I wasn't.

Not without a price.

I let the Ether flow.

The world shattered.

Time slowed.

A violet explosion burst from my chest.

The beast attacking Nyra turned to ash mid-roar.

But the pain was unbearable.

I fell to my knees, blood spilling from my mouth, black veins crawling across my chest like an infection.

The amulet glowed, its white light pushing back the dark—but it was weak. Too weak.

Nyra slashed the second beast's neck with a gust of wind, but the third was faster.

Its claws tore into my arm.

I screamed, pain blinding me—

But my strategist's instinct took over.

I rolled, snatched a dagger from the dirt—a fallen mercenary's—and jammed it into the beast's eye.

It roared, staggered, but didn't fall.

"Together!" Nyra shouted, lunging at the beast.

Her Air magic swirled like a tornado, trapping the creature.

I seized the moment, channeling Ether again.

My vision dimmed—

But I struck.

A violet burst pierced its chest, reducing it to dust.

I collapsed, gasping, the amulet slipping from my fingers.

Nyra reached me, her face pale.

"You're insane," she hissed, pulling me up. "That power is killing you."

"I don't have a choice," I growled, picking up the amulet.

Its glow was nearly gone, but still there—like the heartbeat of something dying.

The relic of Dren burned in my pocket.

I pulled it out, its obsidian shard glowing with a pulsing violet light.

"This... this is what's drawing the beasts."

Nyra narrowed her eyes.

"Dren's relic? What is it?"

"I don't know," I said—but I lied.

I could feel its connection to the Threshold, to the Rift, to the throne's visions.

"But we can't stay here."

Before she could answer, the ground quaked.

A white flash lit the forest.

A figure emerged—not Nobody, but another hunter.

He wore blue scale armor, his hands marked with glowing runes of ice.

"Arion Vaelis," he said, voice like a glacier.

"Bearer of the Ether. The Water Kingdom claims you."

Nyra raised her blade—

But the hunter was faster.

With a gesture, the ground split, and a wave of crystal-like water engulfed us.

I fought, but it was a prison, crushing my lungs.

Nyra screamed, her Air magic clashing with the runes, but it was useless.

The hunter advanced, a spear of ice forming in his hand.

"Use me," the Threshold roared. "Or you die."

The amulet pulsed—

Faint, but enough.

I remembered Lirien.

Her gray eyes. Her voice.

"You are enough."

But I wasn't.

Not without sacrifice.

I let the Ether erupt.

The water fractured.

Time froze.

A violet explosion swept the clearing.

The hunter raised his spear—too slow.

My power hit him, unraveling armor, flesh, runes—

Until only ash remained.

But the cost was immediate.

I collapsed.

Blood poured from my eyes, mouth, nose.

Black veins covered my face.

I felt my soul fracture—

A piece torn away by the Threshold.

A vision struck me:

The obsidian throne.

Blood dripping.

Nyra, dead at my feet.

But now, behind the throne, a new figure stood—

A shadow with red eyes and a cruel smile.

"I am Wrath," it said, its voice echoing the Threshold.

"And I'm only the first."

I snapped back.

Nyra held me, her face pale.

"Arion, you can't keep doing this," she said, voice breaking.

"That power... it's destroying you."

I looked at the relic in my hand—its purple glow stronger now.

"It's not the power," I rasped.

"It's what comes with it."

I pocketed the relic and the amulet, ignoring the pain.

"We have to move. The hunters won't come alone."

Nyra nodded, but doubt filled her eyes.

"Where are we going?"

"To the Ember Academy," I said, my strategist mind calculating.

"If they want to hunt me, let them do it on my ground."

But as we ran, the Threshold whispered, its laughter freezing my blood:

"Wrath awaits you, Echo. And the Sins don't forgive."

The forest closed in around us—

But on the horizon, a violet flash shimmered, like a beacon calling death.

The throne was closer.

So were the Sins.

And I, Arion Vaelis, wasn't ready for what was coming.