He was afraid.
The fear crawled beneath his skin like ice. That voice had belonged to a dream. It was something unreal. But now it echoed through the waking world from the woods.
He knew something dangerous could be behind it. Nothing good ever coming from a personless voice that called from the woods at night.
And yet… his desire for power rose just stronger.
He hesitated, torn between fear and the fierce hunger for opportunity in his chest.
His grandfather was still asleep. The old man would rise before the sun as always, take his bow, and limp into the forest to hunt what little game still lingered near the outskirts.
He had done it for years despite his body growing frail, despite the cold mornings stiffening his joints.
Dominic hated seeing him push himself like that.
If he wants him to stop, and if he wants to give him a life where he can finally rest, then he needs something that could change their future.
If only one of them had to be in danger, it might as well be him.
Clenching his jaw, Dominic forced himself to finish the meal quickly.
The food was tasteless in his mouth but he swallowed every bite. Then he drank a cup of water, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and rose to his feet.
He stepped outside.
The air hit him cold. Clouds smothered the moon, leaving the woods in a heavy swallowing darkness.
He stared at the treeline.
"Where did the voice come from? Maybe I just have to head into the woods?"
"Come…"
The whisper came again. Now that he had heard it several times, Dominic realized that the voice belonged to an old man, it was deep and commanding. Like it belonged to someone accustomed to giving orders.
Dominic's pulse kicked hard in his chest.
If the voice wanted him to follow to give him that power, then he would follow.
He stepped back inside only long enough to grab an old cloak he used whenever he helped his grandfather hunt and a torch.
Then he struck flint to it until flame caught and flickering in the wind.
With the torch in one hand, a knife in the other hand, and the cloak wrapped tightly around him, Dominic walked toward the woods.
The darkness thickened beneath the trees.
The paths of familiar routes his grandfather had shown him since childhood twisted ahead of him. These were safe paths, cleared of threats, well-worn by years of careful footsteps.
But the voice wasn't calling from those routes.
It came from deeper, from the part of the forest his grandfather avoided. The part he had warned Dominic never to enter.
Stay out of the old paths. People get lost there.
His grandfather had said countless times. Yet the aged, commanding voice continued to guide him.
"Come… this way…"
Dominic steadied his trembling breath. His fear was still there but he forced his legs to move and make this bet.
He tightened his grip on the torch and stepped off the safe path and into the dangerous route.
Thunder rumbled in the distance, rolling through the treetops like a warning. Moments later, a sharp wind moves through the branches, cold enough to make Dominic flinch beneath his cloak.
"That's not ominous at all…" he thought, teeth clenched as the torchlight quivered in his hand.
Still, he pushed forward. His desire felt bigger than the fear clawing at his nerves.
The voice no longer whispered, but he felt the pull like an instinctive certainty that he was heading the right way.
He swept the torch toward the shadows. He could only see trees, shrubs, vines, and the restless night sky churning above. Nothing else.
"Where—"
Suddenly, the ground vanished beneath him.
His breath locked in his throat as the earth gave way, and he plummeted into a yawning black tunnel.
Air moved past him, stealing any cry from his lungs. Down and down he fell, the world a blur of darkness and rushing wind.
Then he felt an impact.
Dominic struck solid ground with a jolt that rattled his bones.
The torch wavered wildly but stayed lit, scattering frantic swirls of light across the space.
He felt cold stone and saw narrow walls. In those walls there were symbols carved in twisted patterns and shapes that made his skin crawl with a strange recognition.
Dominic's breath shook as he turned in place, the torch lifted high.
"This is the same as my dream…" he thought, dread and disbelief weighing heavy inside his mind.
He felt his heart hammering so violently he could hear every beat thudding in his ears. He pushed himself to his feet, swallowed hard, and tried to steady his breath.
This was the corridor from his dream. The same carved stone and suffocating dark waiting ahead for him. And somewhere within that darkness lay the voice. The one that promised power.
So he moved toward it, step by cautious step. Fear still clung to him, tightening his muscles, urging him to turn back. But desire dragged him forward.
He reached the edge of the darkness.
It wasn't a shadow. It didn't behave like one. The blackness ahead of him was… solid. A wall of void that refused to recede even when the torchlight brushed against it.
Dominic stretched out a trembling hand.
The instant his fingers touched the wall of shadow, a sharp pain shot up his arm. Before he could even cry out, his awareness lurched, pulled violently away from his body.
The world around him changed.
Suddenly he stood in a grey chamber. Smooth stone walls rose around him with no seams, carving. Just blank, cold surfaces.
Before him hovered a black orb, small enough to fit in his palm. A thin halo of golden light traced its edges.
Dominic didn't know how he knew it but he understood that the orb held immense, terrifying power.
He turned, searching the chamber. Suddenly, the air behind the orb tore open.
A jagged rift split reality like someone ripping paper apart.
From within it, a pair of green hands with long, skeletal fingers tipped with blackened granules that clung like ash pushed through. The limbs writhed as if desperate to claw their way out.
Dominic's instincts screamed. Whatever those hands belonged to it was dangerous!
Before the creature could force itself further out, the golden strands of light snapped from the orb.
They lashed like whips and striking the intruding arms. The force of them shoved the limbs backward, pushing them toward the rift again.
A furious howl tore through the chamber.
"Protected… not ready… ha ha ha! Ha ha ha!
The voice was aged and commanding. And now it was twisted with rage, cackled like a madman who was unable to break free and couldn't help but just laugh.
The laughter echoed, violent and unhinged, until the rift slammed shut with a sharp crack and the sound cut off abruptly.
Dominic stood frozen without understanding what had just happened. The orb was still floating silently before him.
Then he was thrown back into the physical world. But now, the wall of shadow in front of him had gone.
—