12-07-2024, 07:56 PM
Elias sneered at Alvis, his pale lips curling with the certainty that the man was hiding the prize for himself. That smug silence of his, Elias thought bitterly, was a coward’s shield. Yet Elias could see the cracks. The strongman wasn’t as indifferent as he pretended to be. No, not with the storm tearing apart the lake and its people like a wolf shredding its prey. Alvis’s calm was a lie, and Elias would be the one to break it.
The storm roared at Elias’s command, a feral thing eager to please its master. A twisted grin played on his face as he fed more of his will into its fury. The winds howled like demons, snatching at his coat until it flapped wildly around him, more wing than fabric. Thunder rolled through the heavens, a sound so loud it seemed to shake the marrow of the earth. The lake itself answered his call, the water lifting in unnatural waves, spiraling upward as though defying gravity itself.
Elias turned to take it all in—the chaos, the destruction, the raw power that sang in his blood. But his triumph was shattered the moment he spotted the boat. It tilted, pitched violently, and then flipped like a coin. For an instant, he could see Asha, her pale arms flailing on instinct, before the freezing water claimed her.
Shock lanced through him, cold and sharp as a blade. His confidence faltered, a flicker of hesitation cutting through the storm’s relentless rhythm. Manipulating Alvis was the plan—coaxing him, forcing him, into revealing his secrets. But now…
Now, Asha was drowning.
She was just a girl. He told himself that her life meant nothing to him in the grand scheme of things. And yet, as her head vanished beneath the icy waves, a part of Elias he didn’t fully understand rebelled. Was this the cost of victory? Was this what it meant to wield power?
With a snarl, he flung his will outward, and the storm obeyed. The winds died suddenly, and the lake responded with an unnatural stillness, as though holding its breath. The waters shifted under his control, drawn back and away from the shoreline until they rose into a towering wall, higher than any tree, higher than the gods themselves. The pressure of holding it strained every fiber of his being, yet he pressed on, wading through the sucking mud and silt to find her.
There she was, curled in on herself, her body limp and trembling. She looked so small, so fragile, in that moment. He knelt beside her, his scrawny frame trembling with effort as he reached for her. “Ashavari, you will be the death of me,” he croaked, his voice barely audible over the roar of displaced water. She didn’t respond. Panic licked at the edges of his mind as he gathered her into his arms, her soaked form heavier than he expected.
The strain was unbearable. Holding the lake at bay was like trying to restrain a wild animal with his bare hands. Still, he gritted his teeth and hauled her upward. Mud caked his boots, his footing slipping as he stumbled closer to the shoreline. That was when he saw it—the chasm.
It wasn’t just a dip in the lakebed. It was a vast, yawning abyss, its jagged edges plunging into endless darkness. The sight froze him in place. He stared into the void, awestruck by its sheer enormity, its unknowable depths. It whispered to him, called to some deep part of him that longed to understand the mysteries hidden far below. For a moment, he felt weightless, as though the pull of the chasm was stronger than gravity itself.
But Asha shivered violently in his arms, jolting him back to reality. The life clinging to his chest was fragile, too fragile for him to indulge his curiosity now. Swallowing his awe, he tore himself away from the edge and trudged back toward the shore. Each step was harder than the last. The wall of water behind him trembled as his strength waned, droplets beginning to cascade down its surface. He wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer.
At last, he reached solid ground. Alvis stood there, impassive as ever, his sharp features unreadable. Another figure—a woman Elias barely registered—hovered beside him, her dark eyes flicking between the towering wave and the soaked, shivering girl in Elias’s arms. He shoved past them without a word, his boots squelching in the mud as the water behind him collapsed. The wave surged forward, rushing to reclaim the shore with an earth-shaking crash.
“Come on,” Elias snapped, his voice rough with exhaustion. He didn’t wait for a reply. There was no time. If Asha was going to live, she needed help. And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t do this alone.
The storm roared at Elias’s command, a feral thing eager to please its master. A twisted grin played on his face as he fed more of his will into its fury. The winds howled like demons, snatching at his coat until it flapped wildly around him, more wing than fabric. Thunder rolled through the heavens, a sound so loud it seemed to shake the marrow of the earth. The lake itself answered his call, the water lifting in unnatural waves, spiraling upward as though defying gravity itself.
Elias turned to take it all in—the chaos, the destruction, the raw power that sang in his blood. But his triumph was shattered the moment he spotted the boat. It tilted, pitched violently, and then flipped like a coin. For an instant, he could see Asha, her pale arms flailing on instinct, before the freezing water claimed her.
Shock lanced through him, cold and sharp as a blade. His confidence faltered, a flicker of hesitation cutting through the storm’s relentless rhythm. Manipulating Alvis was the plan—coaxing him, forcing him, into revealing his secrets. But now…
Now, Asha was drowning.
She was just a girl. He told himself that her life meant nothing to him in the grand scheme of things. And yet, as her head vanished beneath the icy waves, a part of Elias he didn’t fully understand rebelled. Was this the cost of victory? Was this what it meant to wield power?
With a snarl, he flung his will outward, and the storm obeyed. The winds died suddenly, and the lake responded with an unnatural stillness, as though holding its breath. The waters shifted under his control, drawn back and away from the shoreline until they rose into a towering wall, higher than any tree, higher than the gods themselves. The pressure of holding it strained every fiber of his being, yet he pressed on, wading through the sucking mud and silt to find her.
There she was, curled in on herself, her body limp and trembling. She looked so small, so fragile, in that moment. He knelt beside her, his scrawny frame trembling with effort as he reached for her. “Ashavari, you will be the death of me,” he croaked, his voice barely audible over the roar of displaced water. She didn’t respond. Panic licked at the edges of his mind as he gathered her into his arms, her soaked form heavier than he expected.
The strain was unbearable. Holding the lake at bay was like trying to restrain a wild animal with his bare hands. Still, he gritted his teeth and hauled her upward. Mud caked his boots, his footing slipping as he stumbled closer to the shoreline. That was when he saw it—the chasm.
It wasn’t just a dip in the lakebed. It was a vast, yawning abyss, its jagged edges plunging into endless darkness. The sight froze him in place. He stared into the void, awestruck by its sheer enormity, its unknowable depths. It whispered to him, called to some deep part of him that longed to understand the mysteries hidden far below. For a moment, he felt weightless, as though the pull of the chasm was stronger than gravity itself.
But Asha shivered violently in his arms, jolting him back to reality. The life clinging to his chest was fragile, too fragile for him to indulge his curiosity now. Swallowing his awe, he tore himself away from the edge and trudged back toward the shore. Each step was harder than the last. The wall of water behind him trembled as his strength waned, droplets beginning to cascade down its surface. He wouldn’t be able to hold it much longer.
At last, he reached solid ground. Alvis stood there, impassive as ever, his sharp features unreadable. Another figure—a woman Elias barely registered—hovered beside him, her dark eyes flicking between the towering wave and the soaked, shivering girl in Elias’s arms. He shoved past them without a word, his boots squelching in the mud as the water behind him collapsed. The wave surged forward, rushing to reclaim the shore with an earth-shaking crash.
“Come on,” Elias snapped, his voice rough with exhaustion. He didn’t wait for a reply. There was no time. If Asha was going to live, she needed help. And as much as he hated to admit it, he couldn’t do this alone.