Darkness… that was the first thing I was aware of when I came to. Not silence, not peace, just an endless black that pressed in from all sides. Somewhere beyond it, distant cries rang out, but no matter how hard I strained, I couldn't make out where they were coming from. I tried to shift, to find some kind of balance, but the moment I moved forward, my body was jerked to a stop as metal snapped tight
Blinking through the haze in my head, I lifted my gaze, and slowly the darkness began to take shape. A damp stone room closed in around me, the air thick and cold, chains wrapped around my wrists and neck, holding me in place with no room to move. "What?" I rasped, my voice raw as I tried to piece together what had happened, only for it to flood my head all at once as that final moment replayed in my mind over and over again.
But none of it made sense.
Why was I the one in chains?
Nolan was the one who caused the destruction. Not me.
I yanked my hands forward, frustrated, but the chains only gave an inch before biting into my skin. Pain shot up my arms as I clenched my jaw, anger and confusion twisting together. What was wrong with these people? I hadn't done anything wrong. Yet I was chained here like some kind of criminal.
Frustrated, I pulled fruitlessly as I lifted my head, forcing my eyes to adjust, and made out the dark silhouette of iron bars enclosing me. Beyond them, a faint flame flickered somewhere down the corridor, its weak light dancing across the stone walls, fading in and out, almost in rhythm with the sobs that finally registered.
"Hello?" I called, my voice echoing down the hall. "Hey, is anyone there?"
The sound disappeared into the distance, swallowed whole. Panic crept in as I tried again, louder this time. "Hey! I'm not supposed to be here!" I pulled hard against the chains, ignoring the way the cold metal dug into my flesh. I pulled again. And again. I didn't stop until something warm slid down my arm.
Looking down, I saw that the jagged cuffs had cut into me, drawing a dark line of blood that trickled down my arm and onto the floor.
"What the…" I murmured, staring at it in disbelief. That shouldn't have happened. Not so easily. I drew my hands closer, watching the blood drip slowly, and that was when the real fear set in. I felt weak. Not drained or exhausted, but normal… like I'd never had a core in the first place.
My chest tightened as I focused inward, searching for the familiar hum, the spark that had always answered me before.
But there was nothing. Just an empty space where my power should have been, as if my core had never existed in the first place. My breathing quickened as the weight of it settled over me. "No…" I whispered. "No, no, no… not again—"
Before I could stop it, my thoughts spiraled, memories tearing through the darkness and dragging me away, replacing the cold stone and iron chains with fragments of a past I'd hoped I'd never have to face again.
Thud.
…Thudd.
…Thudd.
The sound of boots echoed down the hall, each step growing louder as my captors drew closer. A low whistle followed, off-key and taunting, accompanied by the steady tap of a baton against iron bars.
"Oh… Atlas," a voice crooned from beyond the cell. "How the mighty have fallen."
A man stepped into view, his grin wide as he peered through the bars at where I'd curled myself near the edge of the cell. The cold had settled deep into my bones, winter air slipping in through a narrow window and carrying with it just enough moonlight to remind me how trapped I was in this damned place.
"I've got a surprise for you," he said, almost cheerfully, reaching into his bag.
The moment I saw it, something inside me broke. A raw, primal wail tore from my throat and rang through the chamber, echoing off stone and steel. The image burned into my mind for only a heartbeat before the mark flared, ripping the vision away as if it had never existed. The pain erased everything, leaving me hollow and numb, slumped in the dark with the cold pressing in from all sides. Till the last traces of the vision blurred and faded at the edges, leaving only the dull ache behind. I shook my head weakly and reached inward out of instinct, searching for the familiar comfort of lightning.
Yet just like everything else in my life, it had left me behind.
With no strength left to fight, I leaned back against the stone and shifted as best I could, trying to make myself bear the time I'd be forced to spend here. That was when I noticed movement in the cell across from mine. A hunched silhouette sat pressed against the far wall, muttering under his breath.
As my eyes adjusted to the low light, his shape became clearer. A shriveled man, curled into himself, clinging to the cold stone as though it were the only thing keeping him together.
"We're all going to die…" he sobbed softly, rocking back and forth. "We… w-we…" His grip tightened around his arms as his gaze stayed fixed on the floor. "The mist… it's in the mist…"
The desperation in his voice cut through the haze in my head, and I found myself leaning forward as much as the chains would allow. "Hey," I called gently. "Hey. Can you hear me?"
His muttering stopped. Slowly, he lifted his head, and when his eyes met mine, they were glossy and empty, like he wasn't sure what he was looking at. "Y-you're…" he whispered. "Are you real?"
The question caught me off guard, but I nodded. "Yeah," I said quietly, forcing a small chuckle. "You can hear me, can't you? What else would I be?"
His breath hitched. "I—I can't—I—I—" His words collapsed into themselves as panic threatened to take hold.
"Hey, hey," I said quickly. "Calm down. I'm real. I promise." When that didn't seem to help, I tried a different approach. "What's your name?"
The question seemed to anchor him. He sniffled and swallowed hard before answering. "I'm… Joshua."
Relief flickered through me. "Okay, Joshua," I muttered. "You wouldn't happen to know where we are, would you?"
He shivered at that, but the fact that someone was still talking to him seemed to give him enough strength to move. He shuffled closer to the bars, and as the dim light brushed over his face, my stomach dropped. His skin was mangled and uneven, swollen in places where bulbous abscesses had long since burst, revealing pale bone beneath. When he reached out and grabbed the bars to steady himself, I couldn't stop myself from flinching back.
He was covered in those large abscesses.
"We…" he rasped at last, his voice scraping against his throat. "We're in the cells of Galebrook, far beneath its castle."
A low chuckle followed. "But d-don't worry," he said, coughing as the sound twisted into something almost joyful. "The end times are near. Soon enough, we'll all be swallowed by the bog of the kings beneath." His voice began to rise, losing focus. "We'll all be one within that fog. It will rise from the depths and make us one. That—"
Crack!
The sound of metal rang through the space as a sword slammed against the bars of his cell. Joshua shrieked, scrambling backward and collapsing into the far corner, clutching himself as if he might come apart. The guard didn't even look at him for long.
"Crazy thing," he muttered, turning his attention to me with a tired sigh. "It's time to go."
"To where?" I asked.
For a brief, foolish moment, I thought that maybe they'd finally realized their mistake, but instead of freedom, chains burst from the walls, snapping around my legs and coiling up my torso, forcing my mouth shut as cold metal sealed over it. And then, as if lifting the metal, I was yanked off the ground and carried forward as if I weighed nothing at all.
What in the world was going on?
I struggled, tried to shout, tried anything, but it didn't matter. The man didn't acknowledge me even once as I was dragged through halls filled with sickly figures and hollow-eyed prisoners, their muttering and laughter bleeding together into a single, maddening hum. But at the far end, we reached a staircase that shifted beneath us, the stone itself moving as if alive, carrying us upward until morning light finally filtered in through the open stone above, letting me know just how long I had been down there.
But if I were gone for that long, where was Henry? Or Benjamin?
The thought barely finished forming before I was thrown to the ground face-first, nearly busting my nose on the hard stone, before being yanked back up to see that I wasn't alone. I lay at the center of a wide chamber, surrounded by figures standing atop raised podiums, their silhouettes looming overhead like judges at a trial. Five of them hovered above me, murmuring quietly among themselves.
A second later, the restraint over my mouth shifted, sliding down the chains and melting into the floor before securing me in place.
"Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?" I glared at the guard.
Without responding, he simply stepped back and left the room through one of the side doors within this dome-like structure.
Turning my attention back to the five figures above me, I smiled. "Hey, you've got the wrong guy. I'm innocent."
One of them, an older woman with graying hair and a white robe, turned away from whatever conversation she'd been having and fixed her gaze on me. Her expression hardened.
"There is no innocence for the likes of you."
"There has to be some kind of mistake," I said quickly. "Whoever you think I am, I'm not him."
I didn't get to finish.
This time, it was a man dressed in robes I recognized as some type of priest–with their circular patters, and flowing ribbons–who spoke up.
"He is not one with the All Mother," he said slowly, "and yet he carries her blessing?"
Another beside him scowled. "Such a thing is impossible. Without the All Mother's guidance, he would be rejected by her gift entirely."
"But yet he stands before us," a third voice added.
The murmuring continued, and as time passed, I couldn't help it anymore and shouted, "Hey! What is your problem?" My voice echoed sharply through the chamber. "I help defend innocent people from a madman, and the next thing I know, I'm attacked, dragged here, and treated like some kind of criminal!" I strained uselessly and reached for my power even though I knew it wouldn't answer. "What crime have I committed?"
The sudden silence was almost worse.
The older woman in white leaned forward and narrowed her eyes. "You ask what crime you have committed," she said coldly, "yet you stand before us with the dead child of the All Mother embedded within your chest. And still you blaspheme, using its corpse without her permission."
Corpse?
Permission?
My thoughts spun as the words crashed into me, fragments slipping into place all at once. The core. The dark liquid within the pedestal, and that ever-present feeling of wrongness.
"My core is dead…" I muttered in realization.
The woman leaned back, satisfied. "Good. He's finally done pretending."
The priest spoke again. "Then I believe we are in agreement. This atrocity cannot be allowed to continue. He is to be put to death."
One of the others nodded, already resigned to the decision. But before it could settle, a voice that hadn't spoken yet cut through the chamber.
"That seems a bit excessive," the man scoffed. "For someone who has done nothing but try to help."
Seeing that at least someone had a brain, I looked up to see who my savior was, only to freeze.
Among the nobles, priests, and judges stood a figure clad in silver armor. However, it wasn't the sigils etched into the metal or the quiet power radiating from him that stunned me.
It was the fact that it was none other than Luke.
The same man I'd met in the caravan.
I stared, utterly shocked as he looked down at me and gave a small, knowing wink that only deepened my confusion.
"Try to help?" one of the priests snapped. "He has committed a sin beyond measure, and you call death too harsh?"
"Yes," Luke replied simply. "Because when have you ever seen anything like this? Who's to say the All Mother didn't will it?"
"That's blasphemy," the priest hissed. "Say another word, and I swear I'll have your position as commander of the First Fleet."
But just as he let those words leave his mouth, the air changed.
A moment later, an immense pressure rolled outward from Luke's form. Those closest to him went pale, some staggering back as his gaze hardened. "You have no authority here," he said sharply. "Not even the barren could take my position, even if they dared. And yet you presume to decide the fate of a man who has only tried to protect others?"
His voice sharpened. "I intervened to stop a fight between two people. And yet you seek to kill an innocent man because of something you don't understand?" he exhaled and leaned back slightly. "I don't know how he came to possess such a thing. But I do know this… He deserves a chance."
A little unsteady, one of the others finally spoke. "W-what do you propose?"
Luke's lips curved into a thin grin. "I say we give him his chance at freedom." He paused. "Through the Trials of the South."
When those words left his mouth, all those around him recoiled, but strangely enough, the priest smiled. And one by one, reluctant nods followed until the woman in white raised her hammer and brought it down with a sharp crack. "It's decided!"
And with that, the metal from the ground surged upwards faster than I could let my frustration be heard, flowing over my head, sealing out the light. And just like that, I was lifted from the ground and carried off to whatever they had in store.