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GATHERING STORM CHAPTER 20
Morning light spilled through the hut's single window, painting golden stripes across the dirt floor. Catriona sat by the cold hearth, watching dust motes dance in the sunbeams. The child—her child—still slept curled on the pallet, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm she'd once thought impossible for him. Daelen entered quietly, his arms full of firewood. The silver had completely faded from his eyes now, leaving them the familiar storm-gray she remembered from their first meeting. He set the wood down with exaggerated care, glancing at the sleeping form. "Still out?" he whispered. Catriona nodded. Three days since the cycle broke, and the boy had barely stirred except to eat the simple stews Daelen prepared or drink from the water skin she held to his lips. His sleep was deep, dreamless—the first true rest after centuries of hunger. She ran a thumb over the white staff lying across her lap. The carvings had changed again, the runes smoothing into something softe
GATHERING STORM CHAPTER ONE
The sky above Tempestria was dark, filled with thick clouds that blocked the sun. The air smelled of smoke and ash. The land was scarred by war. Cities lay in ruins, and the people lived in fear. This was the world now—a world at war with Kullos, the enemy who sought to destroy everything.In the middle of this chaos, a young girl named Catriona walked through the remains of a once-great forest. She was a druid, someone who could feel the energy of nature. But now, the forest was dying. The trees were blackened, their leaves gone. The ground was cracked and dry. Catriona placed her hand on a tree trunk and closed her eyes. She could feel the faint pulse of life, but it was weak. Too weak.“This isn’t right,” she whispered to herself. “The forest shouldn’t be like this.”Catriona was small for her age, with wild brown hair and green eyes that shone with curiosity. She wore a simple robe made of woven leaves and carried a satchel filled with herbs and books. She loved to learn, to under
GATHERING STORM CHAPTER TWO
The two suns of the other world rose slowly, casting a warm, golden light over the red sands. Catriona stood in the courtyard of the fortress, her wooden staff in hand. She had been training for days now, though it felt like weeks. Time moved differently here, and every moment was filled with lessons, drills, and challenges.Mandalee stood in front of her, her white suit gleaming in the sunlight. “Today, we test your limits,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding. “You’ve learned the basics. Now, it’s time to see if you can apply them.”Catriona nodded, her grip tightening on the staff. She was tired, but she refused to show it. She had come too far to give up now.Mandalee led Catriona to a large, circular arena in the center of the courtyard. The ground was covered in fine red sand, and the walls were lined with strange symbols that glowed faintly.“This is the Trial of Strength,” Mandalee said. “You’ll face an opponent who will test your physical and mental endurance. Remember,
GATHERING STORM CHAPTER THREE
The days in the other world blurred together. Catriona trained from sunrise to sunset, her body and mind pushed to their limits. She had passed the trials, but Mandalee and Daelen made it clear that her journey was far from over. Every day brought new lessons, new challenges, and new discoveries.One morning, Catriona stood in the courtyard, her staff in hand. The air was cool, and the two suns cast long shadows across the red sand. Mandalee stood in front of her, her white suit gleaming in the light.“Today, we focus on control,” Mandalee said. “You have power, but power without control is dangerous. Show me what you’ve learned.”Catriona nodded and closed her eyes. She focused on the energy within her, the connection she felt to nature. She raised her staff, and it began to glow with a soft green light. She swung it in a wide arc, and a wave of energy shot out, hitting a target on the far side of the courtyard.Mandalee nodded, though her expression remained stern. “Better. But you’
GATHERING STORM CHAPTER FOUR
The portal shimmered as Catriona, Daelen, and Mandalee stepped through. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and ash, and the sky was dark with storm clouds. They were back in Tempestria, but it was not the same world Catriona had left. The war had taken its toll, and the land was scarred and broken.Catriona looked around, her heart heavy. The once-beautiful forests were now blackened and lifeless. The rivers were dry, and the fields were barren. The people of Tempestria were struggling to survive, their homes destroyed and their hope fading.“This is worse than I thought,” Daelen said, his voice grim. “Kullos’s army has been busy.”Mandalee nodded, her expression serious. “We need to get to the capital. If they reach it before we do, the war will be over.”Catriona clenched her fists. “Then let’s go. We don’t have time to waste.”The journey to the capital was long and difficult. The roads were filled with refugees, their faces gaunt and their eyes hollow. Catriona wanted to st
GATHERING STORM CHAPTER FIVE
The capital of Tempestria was alive with activity. Soldiers hurried through the streets, preparing for the coming battle. The walls were reinforced, and the gates were sealed. The people worked together, their fear replaced by determination. They knew the enemy was close, and they were ready to fight.Catriona stood on the city walls, looking out over the horizon. The storm clouds were gathering, and the air was thick with tension. She could feel the energy of the city, the collective will to survive. But she also felt the weight of what was to come. Daelen and Mandalee called a meeting of the city’s leaders in the war room. The room was filled with maps, weapons, and supplies. The leaders sat around a large table, their faces grim.“Kullos’s army is close,” Daelen said, pointing to a spot on the map. “They’ll be here by tomorrow. We need to be ready.”Mandalee stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We’ve strengthened our defenses, but we’re still outnumbered. We need a plan.”O
GATHERING STORM CHAPTER SIX
The capital of Tempestria was a fortress, its walls reinforced and its gates sealed. The people worked tirelessly, preparing for the coming battle. The storm clouds loomed overhead, and the air was thick with tension. The enemy was close, and the final battle was about to begin.Catriona stood on the city walls, looking out over the horizon. The forest was silent, the aftermath of their ambush still fresh in her mind. She could feel the energy of the city, the collective will to survive. But she also felt the weight of what was to come. Daelen and Mandalee joined her on the walls, their expressions grim. “They’re coming,” Daelen said, his voice low. “We need to be ready.”Catriona nodded, her grip tightening on her staff. “What’s the plan?”Mandalee stepped forward, her voice calm but firm. “We’ll hold the walls as long as we can. But if they break through, we’ll fight them in the streets. We can’t let them reach the heart of the city.”Daelen placed a hand on Catriona’s shoulder. “Y
GATHERING STORM CHAPTER SEVEN
remained. The capital of Tempestria was in ruins, its streets littered with debris and its people weary from the fight. The enemy had been pushed back, but the war was far from over. Catriona, Daelen, and Mandalee knew they had to act quickly to rebuild and prepare for what was to come.Catriona walked through the streets of the capital, her heart heavy. The once-bustling city was now silent, its people mourning the fallen. She saw families huddled together, their faces filled with grief. She saw soldiers tending to the wounded, their expressions grim. The cost of victory was high, and it weighed heavily on her.Daelen and Mandalee joined her, their expressions equally somber. “We’ve won the battle,” Daelen said, his voice low. “But the war is far from over.”Mandalee nodded. “Kullos may be gone, but his army is still out there. And there are others who will try to take his place.Catriona clenched her fists, her determination growing. “Then we’ll stop them. We have to.” The leaders
Latest Chapter
CHAPTER 20
Morning light spilled through the hut's single window, painting golden stripes across the dirt floor. Catriona sat by the cold hearth, watching dust motes dance in the sunbeams. The child—her child—still slept curled on the pallet, his chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm she'd once thought impossible for him. Daelen entered quietly, his arms full of firewood. The silver had completely faded from his eyes now, leaving them the familiar storm-gray she remembered from their first meeting. He set the wood down with exaggerated care, glancing at the sleeping form. "Still out?" he whispered. Catriona nodded. Three days since the cycle broke, and the boy had barely stirred except to eat the simple stews Daelen prepared or drink from the water skin she held to his lips. His sleep was deep, dreamless—the first true rest after centuries of hunger. She ran a thumb over the white staff lying across her lap. The carvings had changed again, the runes smoothing into something softe
chapter 19
The world returned in pieces. First came the ache—a deep, throbbing pain that started in Catriona's bones and radiated outward. Then the smells—woodsmoke and damp earth and something sweet like dried herbs. Finally, the light—golden and flickering against her closed eyelids. She opened her eyes to a rough wooden ceiling. The fire crackled nearby in a stone hearth, its warmth reaching across the small hut to where she lay on a straw-stuffed pallet. The white staff rested against the wall, its glow dimmed to a faint pulse like a sleeping heartbeat. And in her arms— The child. Not the monstrous not-boy. Not the screaming shadow. Just a boy, perhaps five years old, with dark hair sticking to his damp forehead and long lashes brushing round cheeks. His chest rose and fell steadily, one small hand clutching Catriona's tunic even in sleep. Catriona's breath caught. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen something so... peaceful. The silver thread was gone. She felt its
CHAPTER 18
Catriona opened her eyes to darkness. Not the empty dark of night, but the thick, suffocating dark of deep earth. She lay on cold stone, her body aching as if she'd fallen from a great height. The staff—now white as bone—lay beside her, its faint glow showing rough walls pressing close on all sides. She sat up slowly. Her hands shook. The last thing she remembered was the white fire burning through her, the not-boy's voice whispering as he disappeared. Now she was... where? A soft sound made her turn. The silver thread floated in the air behind her, twisting gently like a snake swimming through water. It pulsed with a light that didn't chase away the dark, but made it somehow softer. Less hungry. "Elara?" Catriona reached for it. The thread darted away, then curled back, beckoning. She grabbed the staff and stood, her legs unsteady. The thread led her through narrow tunnels that twisted and turned. The walls here were different—not bone or stone, but something smooth and
chapter 17
The world dissolved into screaming whiteness. Catriona's bones vibrated with the force of the explosion, her skin prickling as if a thousand needles pierced her all at once. The knife and staff fused together in her hands, the wood swallowing the blade like a hungry mouth. Green and silver light pulsed through the chamber in nauseating waves. The not-boy's shrieks rose above the chaos, his form stretching and warping as the silver threads wrapped tighter around him. "NO! NOT LIKE THIS!" His voice shifted through dozens of tones—child, woman, monster—before settling into something ancient and terrible. "YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE!" The ground heaved. Cracks raced up the walls as the cradles shattered one by one, their tiny skeletal occupants crumbling to dust mid-air. The altar split down the center, revealing a yawning void beneath. Elara staggered forward, her skeletal hands grasping at Catriona's arm. "The threads...they need an anchor!" Her hollow eyes darted to the fu
CHAPTER 16
The floating knife trembled in the air, its stained edge glinting in the eerie green light. Catriona's breath caught in her throat as the blade slowly turned to point at her chest. The small skeletal creatures paused their advance, their hollow eye sockets fixed on the hovering weapon. A drop of sweat rolled down Catriona's temple as she stood frozen. The staff in her left hand burned hotter, its carvings pulsing with that same relentless command: **REMEMBER** The knife shot forward. Catriona barely had time to raise Daelen's dead sword as a shield. The blades met with a shriek of metal that sent sparks flying. The impact knocked her backward into the crumbling altar, pain lancing up her spine. The knife circled like a hungry hawk, preparing to strike again. The not-boy clapped its hands together, the sound echoing unnaturally through the chamber. "Oh, she remembers now! She remembers everything!" Its form blurred between child and shadow, its laughter like breaking glass.
CHAPTER 15
The screaming wouldn't stop. Catriona pressed her hands against her ears, but the sound wasn't coming from outside. It vibrated inside her skull, rattling her teeth and bones. The prison walls shuddered, raining down black dust that stung her eyes. The water around the platform churned violently. Something huge moved beneath the surface, making the stones tremble under Catriona's feet. Elara's chains clanked as she struggled. **"TOO LATE,"** her voice boomed. **"HE'S WOKEN UP."** Daelen's sword lay cold and dark on the stones. Catriona grabbed it anyway, the metal freezing her fingers. Before she could think, part of the bone wall crumbled, revealing a narrow tunnel. She ran. The tunnel sloped upward, its walls oozing black liquid that smelled like rotting meat. Catriona gasped for air as she climbed, the darkness pressing in around her. Far above, a faint green glow pulsed like a heartbeat. Her fingers slipped on the wet stone. She fell forward, scraping her knees, but
CHAPTER 14
The water burned like frozen fire. Catriona thrashed toward the torch-lit outcropping, her waterlogged robes dragging her down. The current tugged at her legs with unnatural persistence—not like flowing water, but like grasping hands. Her fingers found purchase on the slick stone. As she hauled herself up, the torchlight revealed the truth of the prison: The walls weren't stone. They were fused bones. Thousands of skeletons packed together so tightly their outlines blurred into a single ossified mass. Each cell door was a ribcage pried open, the bars made from interlocking spinal columns. The air smelled of wet limestone and spoiled meat. Something splashed behind her. Catriona spun, staff raised—only to freeze at the sight of Daelen dragging himself onto the rocks. His sword's blue flame had reduced to a guttering spark, revealing the true extent of his corruption: Black veins spiderwebbed across his chest, pulsing in time with the distant, fading screams from above. Hi
CHAPTER 13
White fire burned behind Catriona's eyes. She stumbled after Daelen, her boots slipping on the tower's liquefying floors. The explosion had shattered her hearing—the world came in muffled bursts, like listening through wool. Daelen's grip on her wrist was fire and frost combined. His black eyes leaked tendrils of smoke that curled away like living things. When he spoke, three voices wrestled in his throat: "Run—don't look—keep moving—" The cavern outside was collapsing. Great chunks of ceiling plummeted around them, shattering into clouds of crystalline dust that stung Catriona's lungs. Through the haze, she glimpsed the remains of the silver web—threads snapping one by one as the freed lights winked out of existence. Something moved in the dust. A child's silhouette, missing an arm, its head lolling at an impossible angle. "Mother..." The voice came from everywhere at once, vibrating in Catriona's molars. "You forgot your gift..." The beating heart came flying out of
CHAPTER 12
The boy's fingers were colder than winter bedrock. Catriona tried to pull away, but his grip tightened like iron shackles. Behind them, Mandalee's screams cut off abruptly with a wet crunch. The smell of copper flooded the cavern. "Don't look back, mother," the boy chirped, dragging her toward the yawning tower door. "Uncle gets cranky when people stare." Something massive shifted in the darkness behind them. The cave walls trembled, shedding chunks of glowing fungus that died before they hit the ground. The tower interior smelled of burnt sugar and rotting parchment. The boy's bare feet left bloody prints on the crystalline floor that faded after three steps, as if the tower itself was drinking them in. "See what I made?" He pointed upward with his free hand. Catriona's breath caught. The ceiling wasn't stone—it was a vast web of silver threads, each strand holding a pulsing light. Some were bright as stars, others guttering like dying candles. As she watched, one winke
