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The Immortal’s Vow Torn Between Worlds
Zarekth’s gaze was unwavering, cold and detached as Lyra’s words hung in the air. The weight of his skepticism pressed down on her, making her feel as though the very concept of friendship was somehow trivial, unworthy of his understanding. His expression remained impassive, and for a brief moment, Lyra felt the sting of his indifference.“Your friends?” he echoed, his voice laced with disdain, as if the idea was beneath him.Lyra’s frustration surged. She stood straighter, trying to push back against the god’s towering presence. “Yes, my friends,” she repeated, sharper now, anger flaring in her chest. “We were exploring some ancient ruins for a history project. None of us were trying to summon gods or meddle with forces we didn’t understand. We were just—” She hesitated as the memory of the storm returned to her mind ever so vividly. "A storm occurred," she managed to say, although the peg of her voice quivered as that image played out in her mind.“The ruins started collapsing. D
The Immortal’s Vow The Realm of the Forsaken
Lyra sat against the cold stone wall, knees pulled to her chest, fingers absentmindedly tracing patterns on the dusty floor. Time felt meaningless here, distorted like everything else in this forsaken place. Had it been a day? Two? Maybe more. There was no sun, no sky—anything to tell her what time it was. Just the relentless darkness, the heavy cold that seeped into her bones, and the whispers—faint, yet steady, as voices from the forgotten.Opposite her, Zarekth paced, his tall, imposing figure moving in the restless energy of a caged beast. The sound of his sandals hitting the stone echoed in the cavernous space, a monotonous rhythm now beginning to grate on her nerves. He hadn't said much since they found themselves trapped here—wherever this place was—and his silence was as unsettling as his pacing.“How long are you going to pace for?” Lyra finally asked, her voice cutting through the stillness.Zarekth stopped mid-stride, his silver eyes narrowing as he regarded her. He did
The Immortal’s Vow An Unlikely Alliance
Zarekth knelt on the cold, unforgiving stone floor, his long fingers methodically tracing lines in the dust with a stick he had found nearby. Lyra watched him from a distance, curiosity beginning to overcome the wariness she felt whenever he withdrew into these strange, silent tasks. She edged closer, tilting her head to get a better look. “What are you doing?” she asked, her voice breaking the heavy silence that filled the cavern. Without looking up, Zarekth responded with a grunt, his tone rough with impatience. “Is it not obvious?” He continued sketching, the stick moving in sharp, deliberate strokes across the ground. It looked disorganized in the beginning, a few stray lines and angles traced in the dirt but upon further inspection, Lyra was able to discern a pattern, or a rough representation of a map even. She frowned and attempted to understand the meaning of it. "Are we really that far from Nerathia?” she asked looking at the map and then at his face for any sign of
The Immortal’s Vow Fragile Mortal
Zarekth strode ahead, his long legs carrying him swiftly over the rough, uneven ground of the Abyss of Oblivion. The air here felt stale, heavy, as if it hadn't been stirred by life in centuries.The dark and jagged landscape stretched out endlessly, an eternal void, littered with the remnants of the people who had died here—skeletons scattered like forgotten memories.Whispers slithered through the darkness, soft but insistent, their words unintelligible, as if ghosts of lost souls could be heard trying desperately to make contact through thick veils of shadow.Behind him, Lyra struggled to keep up. Every step felt like an enormous effort, her legs trembling beneath her weight. It seemed as though it had been ages since she had last taken any food or drink. Her mouth felt dry, her throat scorched, and she was breathing in an erratic manner. Most likely, she wasn’t sure how far they had walked together but she had to stop, her body was aching for rest.But Zarekth, with his infuriatin
The Immortal’s Vow Trust in Shambles
Lyra awoke slowly, and as she did, a wave of soreness pulsed throughout her body, making it difficult for her to move. Her throat felt sore, her body was rigid, and for a brief moment, she was unable to tell where she was. The first thing she glanced at was Zarekth, sitting across from her, his silver eyes fixed on her expression which was unreadable as usual.A small fire crackled between them whose flames offered little illumination, just enough to see his sharp features.She blinked to allow her eyes to adjust to the dim light. They were out of the Abyss of Oblivion. She knew right away there was no oppressive blackness, no stench of death pervasive in the atmosphere.They were in a place where a sky was directly above them, without any covering, and dotted with stars as if someone poked holes in the vast canvas. The night air was cool against her skin, making her shiver slightly, as the soft wind blew her hair back. They were not enclosed. They had escaped.She tried to utter som
The Immortal’s Vow A Flicker of Comfort
Zarekth had been gone for a long time, it felt, and Lyra was left to the silence; except for the crackle of dying embers from the fire. The night seemed to burn along at a crawl, and in the absence of her cell phone's hum and a ticking clock, the passage of time became some sort of oblivious blur, a smothering vacuum. She stared up at the stars, trying to gauge how long it had been since he'd gone, but there was no answer across the sky.Her mind wandered to thoughts of her life. She could envision her friends, their faces etched in her mind, and if they had noticed she was missing.What would they be doing right now?Were they out searching for her? Her parents—had they called the police, or organized search parties? The possibility of being declared missing hovered over her like a dark cloud. For a moment, she almost longed for the simplicity of home, where technology could keep her connected and offer some semblance of control.Here, though, she had nothing. Just the stars, the
The Immortal’s Vow Awkward Encounters
Lyra awoke to the soft sounds of movement nearby. Blinking her eyelids open, she watched Zarekth squat next to the remains of their campfire and carefully snuffed out the remaining embers. A subtle dawn light made its way across the horizon, spreading faint light all over the scene. The cold air of the morning hit her and sent her slightly shivering as she sat up.Zarekth noticed her stirring. “It’s dawn. About time that we leave,” he declared impassively, looking elsewhere. Lyra arched her back, bothered by the discomfort of her muscles affected by the previous day’s journey, although not as intense as it had been. Food and water had given her sustenance, enough to keep going.She rose, and brushed dirt from her clothes, and nodded.“I’m ready," she remarked, feeling more energized and awake than in days.They set off in silence, the quiet of the early morning surrounding them as they walked.The ground beneath them was hard and uneven, but Lyra barely noticed. She kept glancing at
The Immortal’s Vow Threads of Destiny
The gods and goddesses gathered under a vast celestial dome, their presence filling the air with an ethereal hum. The ancient hall of Elysium stood at the center of a realm untouched by mortal eyes, where the stars above seemed close enough to grasp.Assembled were deities whose very existence wove the fabric of reality, and tonight, they convened for a singular, unsettling reason: Zarekth had awakened.Nyxara, the weaver of fate, time, and destiny, stood at the head of the assembly, her midnight blue hair shimmering like the phases of the moon as it shifted to silvery hues. Her violet eyes, which held the secrets of countless eras, scanned the gathering. She could feel the weight of the moment—the threads of destiny were taut, poised to unravel in unpredictable ways.Kyrion, the god of nature and animals, was the first to break the silence. His emerald eyes, ever wise and deeply connected to the natural world, narrowed as he spoke, his voice echoing with the sound of rustling leaves
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- The Immortal’s Vow
The Balance of Power
Tharion carefully placed a weathered tome on the table, its aged leather cover showing cracks, accompanied by scrolls that exuded an equally ancient air. A solitary lantern illuminated the room, casting elongated shadows on the stone walls. Lyra and Viana, consumed by curiosity, leaned in closer, their eyes gleaming with interest. “Alright,” Tharion commenced in a scholarly yet eager manner, “let's delve into the fundamentals—how Nerathia came into existence.”Lyra, feigning composure despite the myriad of questions bubbling within her, rested her chin on her hand. The sense of anticipation surged through her, though she strived not to disrupt the narrative unfolding before her.Turning the fragile, yellowed pages of the book, Tharion's lips curled into a faint smile as his fingers delicately traced the text. It seemed as though he had traversed the tale countless times, yet still found marvel in its words.“An era preceding mortals, cities, or even the notion of time, Nerathia lay
- The Immortal’s Vow
The Pursuit of Knowledge
Tharion guided Lyra and Viana through the winding corridors of Valestra, the soft echo of their footsteps reverberating against the ancient stone walls. The flickering glow of enchanted lanterns bathed their path in a pale, ethereal light. The day’s events had left Lyra’s muscles sore, but the faint smell of parchment and ink in the air brought a strange comfort, reminiscent of the library back home. They entered a modest chamber with three neatly arranged beds and a table cluttered with scrolls and ink pots. Tharion paused, gesturing around with a bright smile. “You’ll rest here. Not bad, eh? Well, as much as one can expect while journeying with a god of chaos.” He glanced around as if expecting Zarekth to appear from the shadows. When he didn’t, Tharion shook his head. “Where is he? Wandering off, I suppose. Typical gods, always mysterious.” He looked back at Lyra and Viana, his face alight with excitement. “Still, I can’t believe it. You’re traveling with Zarekth. Do
- The Immortal’s Vow
The City of Scholars
The towering gates of Valestra, the City of Scholars, loomed before them, their intricate carvings glinting faintly under the soft glow of enchanted lanterns. The gates were vast, an imposing wall of engraved knowledge and symbols of wisdom, as though every inch carried the weight of history. Beyond them, faint murmurs of life could be heard—footsteps, low voices, and the hum of magic weaving through the air.Zarekth, Lyra, and Viana approached cautiously, their journey weary yet purposeful. Two magicians, clad in flowing robes lined with silver runes, emerged from their posts near the gate, their staff glowing faintly with defensive magic. Their expressions were stern, their gazes sharp as they surveyed the strangers before them.“Halt!” One of them commanded, his voice as crisp as the cold night air. “Who seeks entry into Valestra? Strangers are not welcome without cause.”Lyra tensed, clutching her bow instinctively. Viana stepped closer to her, though her own knives were sh
- The Immortal’s Vow
The Distance Between
The ruins stood like a forgotten monument, its jagged stones and crumbled walls offering shelter from the night’s chill. The distant wind whispered through the ruins, carrying the last remnants of the battle they had just escaped. Lyra’s breath came in shallow gasps, her body tired but her mind racing from the encounter. She had barely noticed the minor scratches that lined her arms and face, too preoccupied with the danger that had almost claimed them.Viana, ever the healer, moved swiftly to her side. “You’re lucky, Lyra. Nothing too serious here,” she murmured as her hands glowed with healing light, closing the shallow cuts with a practiced touch.Lyra nodded, grateful for the comfort, but her eyes drifted toward Zarekth. The god’s face was strained, his jaw clenched as he stood, trying to ignore the pain radiating from his side. The slash was deep, the blood oozing from the wound in thick golden rivulets. Lyra’s heart skipped at the sight—gods didn’t bleed red, as mortals di
- The Immortal’s Vow
The Creatures of the Night
The dwindling fire barely illuminated the camp, casting subtle, flickering shadows. The night remained tranquil, disturbed only by the occasional leaf rustling in the breeze and the soft crackling of the embers. Lyra and Viana rested on their bedrolls, swathed in their cloaks, the fire's warmth easing them into a profound slumber.Zarekth, ever vigilant, had drifted into a restless slumber, though his mind never fully left the surrounding woods. Even in sleep, his senses remained sharp, attuned to any threat that may arise.And something was coming.The unfolding events began with a mere whisper, a faint and fragmented murmur that hovered on the fringes of consciousness. Subsequently, the ambient temperature plunged, shrouding the camp in a chilling embrace, while shadows seemed to lengthen ominously. An array of peculiar sounds permeated the atmosphere: soft skittering, faint rustling, and indistinct murmurs, suggestive of a veiled observer, a silent presence lingering nearby. As
- The Immortal’s Vow
The Unseen Threat
The forest was alive with the murmurs of dusk—leaves rustling in the breeze, branches creaking under the weight of night-dwelling creatures, and distant howls echoing in the cool air. Lyra crouched low behind a jagged stone, her fingers tightening around the smooth wooden shaft of a borrowed bow. Viana knelt beside her, whispering instructions that only half-registered in Lyra’s buzzing mind.“Steady your hands, keep your eyes on the target,” Viana murmured, pointing toward their prey—a deer grazing in a moonlit clearing not far ahead. Its ears twitched as if sensing danger, though it continued its meal, oblivious to the two figures hidden among the shadows.Lyra exhaled deeply, feeling her heartbeat resonate loudly as she pulled the string back. Her muscles quivered under the unfamiliar strain, yet her anticipation overshadowed any physical discomfort. Peering intensely along the arrow's path, she observed her breath forming mist in the crisp air. Her focus narrowed to a singular
- The Immortal’s Vow
A Taste of Malice
The air reeked of sulfur and decay. Shadows swayed unpredictably on the uneven walls, driven by a restless, simmering fire casting erratic flickers in the heart of the chamber. Within the vast expanse, skeletal remains, devoid of flesh, stood in rows, their empty sockets giving an impression of a perpetual, haunting gaze.The oppressive heat of the place made even the darkness feel alive, writhing with malicious intent.From the depths of the gloom came laughter—low and guttural at first, then rising into a cacophony of voices, each more twisted and deranged than the last.“Awake. Awake!” one voice hissed, its tone dripping with mockery. “The son of Aureon lives again. Can you believe it?”Laughter rippled through the chamber, sharp and biting, like claws scraping against stone.“Foolish,” another voice sneered. This one was deeper, a slow rumble that seemed to shake the very ground beneath. “He should have remained buried, forgotten. Who dared disturb the seal?”A third voice join
- The Immortal’s Vow
Fractured Memories
The group rested beneath the canopy of stars, the firelight flickering low as the chill of the night settled in. Lyra and Viana had drifted into peaceful sleep, their figures wrapped snugly in soft, woven cloaks that bore the craftsmanship of Sylvaen’s villagers. The faint sounds of their steady breathing blended with the crackle of the dying embers and the occasional rustle of leaves stirred by the cool wind.Zarekth, seated a few paces away from the campfire, allowed himself to close his eyes. Just for a moment.He rarely afforded himself this luxury, knowing how vulnerable it made him. But tonight, weariness lingered at the edges of his thoughts, pressing down with a weight even he couldn’t ignore. His eyelids drooped, and in the obscurity behind them, remnants of something long concealed began to awaken. A whisper—initially faint and indistinct—intricately wove its way into his consciousness, gradually increasing in volume with each fleeting second.The words were foreign, sh
- The Immortal’s Vow
The Road to Valestra
Zarekth scowled, his patience already wearing thin. He cast a cold glance at Viana, who stood before him with a determined look in her eyes and a travel bag slung over her shoulder. The sight of her preparing to join their journey only added to his irritation. It was enough that Lyra had been thrust into his path—an unexpected weight he hadn’t asked for—but now this? Another mortal tagging along? He released a quiet exhale, gently squeezing the bridge of his nose.“You should go back,” Zarekth said, his voice flat and commanding. “This journey isn’t for you. It’s dangerous, and you’ll only slow us down.”Viana tilted her head proudly, indifferent to the biting coolness of his refusal. "I'm no longer a child," she said in a steady tone.“Alda knows that, which is why she let me leave. I’m seeking a better future, and I’ll find my own path when the time comes. But for now, I’ll travel with you both.”Lyra, standing at Viana’s side, crossed her arms and looked at Zarekth with a raise
