The Forgotten lunged with a sound like tearing fabric—threads snapping, realities buckling. Erian swung the Dreamfire’s mory upward, the blade igniting in a rush of gold and violet fla. The strike t the creature’s arm—if it was an arm—and split it into cascading strips of collapsing light.
But the pieces reford instantly, reshaping into new, broken limbs.
Marra dashed to Erian’s flank, her twin blades slicing arcs of shimring distortion through the advancing shadows. Each cut dispersed the darkness—yet the land beneath them withered into gray ash, unable to heal fast enough.
Tovin thrust his hands forward, amber sparks erupting from his palms like miniature suns. “Back! Get back!”
The sparks slamd into the shadow-mass, forcing it a few steps away. But every spark that hit gave shape to another flickering silhouette, another half-being, another unchosen thread clawing its way into existence.
Marra snarled. “We’re just giving them more form! We’re feeding them!”
The main Forgotten figure twisted, its voice shredding through the air.
“We are every path denied...
every life unwoven...
every fate abandoned.”
Erian tightened his stance. “You’re echoes—not mistakes.”
The creature’s glitching face morphed into Erian’s own, eyes hollow.
“Then why did you seal us away?”
Tovin shouted from behind a cluster of warped roots, “Because you weren’t real yet! You were possibilities, not people!”
The figure’s body convulsed, distorting into a tangle of limbs and shifting identities.
“We were enough to feel the ending!”
The ground cracked beneath them as more Forgotten rose from the spreading shadow-ink, each one a blurred reflection of soone they could have beco—warriors, children, ancestors, monsters.
Marra’s voice dropped to a whisper. “We can’t kill them. They’re tied to us. To what we didn’t choose.”
“No,” Erian murmured, realization blooming like fire in his chest. “They’re tied to what we refused to be.”
The Root hovered above them, trembling violently. Its gray light flickered, thinning, cracking. It couldn’t hold the world together much longer.
Erian reached toward it. “We need to stabilize the Weave. If the world has a pattern, the Forgotten can’t consu it.”
Tovin looked around in panic. “But we haven’t created its laws yet!”
Marra stepped forward, blades lowering. “Then we do what we’ve always done. We improvise.”
She pressed her hand against the forming soil, letting her intent flow through it. The ground brightened, lines of violet energy forming a protective lattice. Tovin joined her, embedding amber sparks into the pattern.
Erian closed his eyes, raising the Dreamfire. “First World... choose your truth.”
The newborn star pulsed overhead—once, twice—then released a luminous wave that rolled across the land like a silver tide.
The Forgotten shrieked as the stabilizing pattern swept through their forms. So dissolved peacefully, drifting like dust. Others resisted, growing more distorted, more desperate.
The lead Forgotten staggered, its voice fracturing.
“If you choose a world...
you choose against us.”
Erian stepped forward, unwavering. “No. We choose for life.”
He plunged the Dreamfire into the spreading shadow.
Light erupted.
The world scread—and began to heal.
When the glow finally faded, only one figure of the Forgotten remained, kneeling, flickering.
Not hostile.
Not whole.
Just... waiting.
Marra exhaled. “What now?”
Erian lowered his blade. “We give the last one a choice.”
User Comments
0 comments from readers