Rowen's eyes snapped open, and he immediately regretted it. The world was blurry, spinning, and for a moment, he couldn't remember where he was. His head felt like someone had stuffed it with cotton, and his chest—his chest—was burning. Not a good kind of burning either. It felt like something was inside him, clawing its way out.
He shot up into a sitting position, looking around frantically. He was still beneath the ancient tree—the one he'd fallen asleep under yesterday after a long walk through the village. The trees towered above him, the faint rustle of leaves a reminder that the world was still turning. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Okay, okay, calm down, Rowen. You're fine. Nothing weird happened. Nothing at all.
"You're not fine."
Rowen froze.
No. The voice in his head wasn't his own. It was low, calm, and eerily familiar.
"Who—who said that?" Rowen demanded aloud, looking around wildly. The forest was still silent, except for the distant chirp of a bird.
"You know exactly who I am."
Rowen's stomach churned. The voice was cold, but there was something undeniably powerful in it. Something... ancient. It clawed at him from inside his own mind.
"You—" Rowen gasped, clutching his head. "No. No, this isn't happening."
"Oh, but it is. I'm in your head now. In your body." The voice chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Rowen's spine. "What a fitting vessel, don't you think? So full of potential… yet so empty."
Rowen's breath hitched as a sudden, sharp pain pierced his chest. It was like his body was on fire, but not in a good way. He gripped his shirt, trying to pull away from the sensation, but it only got worse.
"Don't fight it, little one. You're mine now. All that hunger you've been feeling? It's mine too."
"No!" Rowen gasped. "I don't want this! I don't want you!"
"Yet here I am. You've felt it all your life, haven't you? The hunger to be more, to be stronger. Now you'll understand what it means to never be satisfied."
"Shut up!" Rowen shouted, standing up so suddenly that he almost stumbled over his own feet. His head spun, and for a second, he had to hold onto the tree to keep from collapsing.
This wasn't a dream. He wasn't imagining this. A god—a god—was inside him, talking to him like he was a mere puppet.
"The god of greed. Zoreth, at your service."
Rowen's legs gave out beneath him, and he collapsed back onto the grass. He stared up at the canopy of trees, trying to block out the voice in his head. He could hear his heartbeat, loud and frantic. Just breathe. Focus. It's going to be fine. This is just... a weird dream. Or maybe... I hit my head?
But no matter how much he tried to convince himself, the burning in his chest didn't go away. His body felt strange—like something foreign was growing inside him.
"You can't hide from this, Rowen. You have a hunger that can never be sated. Welcome to your new reality."
"No, no, no!" Rowen snapped, slapping his hands over his ears. "I'm not doing this! I won't be your vessel! I didn't ask for this!"
"Ask? Who cares about asking? I've already made myself at home. You're the one who's stuck with me now."
Rowen's eyes widened. Stuck? What do you mean stuck?
"You don't really think you can get rid of me that easily, do you?" Zoreth's voice purred. "You'll come to understand. You and I, we're... connected. In ways you can't even imagine."
Rowen stood up again, this time more deliberately, as if trying to shake the voice out of his mind. He was sweating, his palms clammy, and every step felt heavier. The reality of the situation was starting to hit him. A god. In my head. This is insane.
"No, it's not insane. It's destiny. And you'll come to see that, eventually."
Rowen scowled, half-expecting the trees to start talking back to him. Okay, Rowen, think. Just think. He looked around the forest again, as if he could escape his own mind by running away.
"You can run," Zoreth said with a laugh, "But you won't get far."
Rowen froze, looking over his shoulder, half-expecting to see the god himself standing behind him. But there was nothing. Just trees. No glowing figure. No ominous, brooding deity.
Great. Now his own thoughts were making him paranoid.
"I'm not just your thoughts, Rowen. I am your hunger. Your ambition. I am what you've always wanted, whether you admit it or not."
Rowen clenched his fists. Nope, nope, nope. Not today. He took a deep breath, steeling himself, then started walking toward the village.
The walk back was a blur. Every step felt like it was in slow motion, as though the world was holding its breath, waiting for him to snap. He kept his gaze fixed on the path ahead, avoiding the curious glances of villagers who had begun to notice him.
He barely remembered walking through the main square, though he did manage to wave at a few people with what he hoped was a casual enough smile. But inside, his brain was screaming.
"How long do you think you can keep running from me?" Zoreth's voice echoed in his mind, smooth as silk. "You can't outrun what's already inside you."
Rowen quickened his pace, wishing the whole world would just swallow him up. He could hear the sound of his heartbeat in his ears, a constant reminder of the god inside him. It was almost like someone had hit the mute button on the outside world.
"Rowen! Wait up!" Ryland's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. His older brother came jogging up to him with that ever-present smirk on his face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
"I—uh—" Rowen blinked, trying to force a smile. "Just tired. Long night."
Ryland raised an eyebrow. "Long night? Under the tree again, huh? Mom's not gonna like it if you keep doing that. You'll catch something, or worse, she'll start making up stories about forest spirits."
Rowen couldn't help it. He chuckled, despite himself. "Forest spirits? Seriously?"
"Hey, we live in a weird place. You never know," Ryland grinned. "But, uh, seriously. You alright?"
Rowen hesitated. How could he explain to his brother that a god was living in his head? That he was already feeling the pull of something monstrous, growing inside him?
"Yeah. Fine. Just... haven't been sleeping well," Rowen muttered, hoping the lie sounded convincing.
"Yeah, well, you're gonna have to work on that," Ryland said, giving him a pat on the back. "Mom's already preparing lunch. You're gonna want to be in a good mood for that, trust me."
Rowen managed a grin. "I'll try. But no promises."
As he finally made it home, Rowen couldn't shake the feeling that every second was slipping through his fingers like sand. The village was just as he remembered, but it all felt... different now. Like he was looking at it through someone else's eyes. He pushed the door open to find his mother bustling about in the kitchen, humming a familiar tune.
"Rowen, dear! You're back! How was your walk?" she asked brightly, not looking up from the pot she was stirring.
"Uh, great," Rowen mumbled, standing by the doorway. His mind felt like it was being pulled in a hundred different directions, and he struggled to focus on his mom's cheerful voice. "Long. Really long."
"Well, you're here now," she said with a smile. "You're just in time for lunch!"
As Rowen stepped into the warmth of the house, he felt the burn in his chest flare again. Zoreth's presence was like a shadow, lingering just behind him, whispering in his ear.
"You'll never be free of me."
Rowen closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. Not today, he thought. Not today.