Chereads / Throne of Illusions / Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Into the Unknown

Chapter 2 - Chapter 2: Into the Unknown

The night air was cool, the stars twinkling brilliantly above, as if mocking the turmoil within Isla. She walked a step behind Auren, her eyes glancing around, taking in every detail of the ruins they found themselves in. The remnants of a city sprawled before them, its walls fractured and worn, relics of a time that was no longer relevant. It was eerie, the way silence blanketed the empty streets, broken only by the occasional rustle of wind or the distant call of some unseen creature.

Auren strode ahead, his presence seemingly unaffected by the lifeless remnants around them. Isla could tell that this place was unfamiliar even to him. He glanced at the fallen pillars and collapsed structures with barely any regard, though his gaze sharpened when it caught the occasional flicker of residual mana left behind from whatever had come before. His expression remained cold and unreadable, but Isla couldn't help but wonder what kind of thoughts a god like him might have—especially one so recently freed from captivity.

"Stay close," Auren said, his voice cutting through the silence. He didn't look back, but his words were an undeniable command.

Isla adjusted her satchel, suppressing the slight irritation rising in her chest. She had already decided to stick close; it wasn't like she had much choice in the matter. Still, his tone grated on her. She followed him, trying to move with the same confident ease as the god who had brought her here, but her own steps seemed louder, clumsier, out of place in this abandoned world.

Suddenly, a distant rustling sound caught her attention. Isla froze, her heart skipping a beat. Her [Trap Awareness] flared, and she instinctively placed her hand on the hilt of the small dagger at her belt. It was a laughable weapon compared to Auren's illusions, but it gave her some measure of comfort.

"What's that?" she whispered, her eyes scanning the shadows.

Auren slowed, then stopped, his head tilting slightly as though listening. A slight smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. "It seems this world is not as empty as it appears."

From the darkness of a crumbling alleyway, a shape emerged. It was large, almost like a bear, but its form was twisted and malformed, tufts of fur intermingled with scales, eyes glowing an unnatural shade of green—radiating mana corruption. The beast's jaws parted, revealing jagged teeth, and a low growl rumbled in its throat.

"A mutated beast," Isla breathed, her voice tinged with a mix of fear and fascination. She had read about the beasts affected by the Mana Surge, how they changed, becoming larger, more dangerous, unpredictable. But seeing one up close was another matter entirely.

Auren raised an eyebrow, his golden eyes narrowing. "You seem intrigued. Do you want to study it, or would you rather I remove it from our path?"

Isla shot him a glare. "I'd rather not be eaten tonight, thank you very much."

The beast roared, its cry echoing through the empty streets. It lunged forward, the ground trembling under its weight. Isla braced herself, her instincts screaming at her to run, but her feet stayed planted firmly, frozen by both terror and determination.

Auren stepped forward, his demeanor relaxed as though facing a trivial nuisance. He raised his hand, and suddenly the air around them seemed to shimmer. Shadows lengthened and twisted, forming into something tangible. Illusions sprang to life—an entire pack of ethereal wolves that lunged at the beast from multiple directions, their spectral forms biting and clawing with ferocious intensity.

The beast staggered, confused by the illusionary assault. Isla watched, her eyes wide as she saw the wolves tearing at the creature. She could hear its pain, could see it trying to fight back, but it was futile. The illusions had become real, at least real enough to cause damage.

Auren smirked, his golden eyes gleaming in the dim light. He watched the beast struggle, his expression cold, detached. Isla could see it now—why the other gods had feared him. His power was terrifying. He was toying with the beast, the same way a cat would with a mouse.

The mutated beast, finally overwhelmed, let out a final, pained roar before collapsing, its form going limp. Auren made a dismissive motion with his hand, and the illusionary wolves disappeared, fading into nothingness. He turned back to Isla, his gaze appraising.

"You held your ground," he said, a hint of approval in his voice. "Perhaps you're not as fragile as I thought."

Isla swallowed, her heart still pounding in her chest. She forced herself to stand straight, her chin lifting slightly. "I'm not just some helpless mortal. I know how to take care of myself."

"We shall see," Auren replied, his expression unreadable once more. He turned away, continuing through the ruins as if nothing had happened.

Isla let out a shaky breath, her grip loosening on the dagger. She glanced at the beast's body, the twisted shape a reminder of what the Mana Surge had done to the world—and what kind of dangers still lurked out there. She hurried after Auren, the god moving with a purpose that made her feel like she was forever trying to catch up.

As they moved further from the ruins, the landscape opened into a vast stretch of barren terrain. Strange flora—mutated trees and glowing shrubs—dotted the horizon, their forms a stark reminder that nothing was untouched by the Mana Surge. Isla walked beside Auren, the silence between them heavy until she finally spoke up.

"What was that back there?" she asked, breaking the quiet. "That beast... the Mana Surge did that, right?"

Auren glanced at her, his gaze considering. "The Mana Surge was more than just an infusion of power. It was a disruption, a shift in the natural order. Creatures like that one—" He nodded back toward the ruins. "They're the consequences. Evolution gone astray. Power corrupting life."

Isla frowned, her curiosity piqued. "But why did it happen? I mean, what caused the Mana Surge?"

For a moment, Auren's expression darkened, his gaze turning distant. "The gods meddle in things they do not fully understand. The Mana Surge was a mistake—one born out of fear and ambition. They thought they could harness power beyond their comprehension, but all they did was unleash chaos."

Isla nodded slowly, absorbing his words. The weight of them, the implications, were almost too much to grasp. She looked at Auren, realizing that even he—a god—didn't fully know everything that had happened. There were secrets, layers upon layers of them, and she was caught in the middle of something far bigger than she had ever imagined.

"And what about you?" she asked carefully. "You want your power back... but what then?"

Auren's eyes gleamed, his lips curving into a dangerous smile. "What then? Then, I remind the others why they feared me. I will reclaim my place, and the order they built will crumble."

His words sent a chill down her spine. She had bound herself to a being who wanted nothing less than vengeance. But what choice did she have? She looked at the barren landscape, wondering how far this journey would take her—how much she would see, and whether she would even survive it.

As they approached the remains of a small plaza, Isla's [Mana Sensitivity] suddenly flared. She paused, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the area. There, nestled in the roots of a twisted, glowing tree, was something—something pulsing with faint mana. She knelt, brushing away dirt and debris to reveal what looked like a small, rune-covered stone.

"What is this?" she murmured, activating [Analyze Artifact].

[Item: Faded Mana Stone]Status: Fragment of sealed energy. Contains residual power.

Isla looked up at Auren, who had turned his attention to her discovery. He raised an eyebrow, a glimmer of interest sparking in his eyes. "A fragment, perhaps a remnant of the power stolen from me."

He extended his hand, and Isla handed him the stone. The moment it touched his palm, the runes on his body flared with a bright, pulsating light. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply as though savoring the energy. After a moment, the light subsided, and he opened his eyes, the golden irises blazing with renewed intensity.

"It is faint, but it's a start," Auren said. He looked down at Isla, something akin to satisfaction in his gaze. "You may prove useful yet, Isla Vale."

Isla stood, dusting her hands off on her trousers. "Glad to be of service," she said, her tone a touch sarcastic. "So, where to next?"

Auren glanced toward the horizon, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. "There is a settlement nearby. We will find supplies there and perhaps learn more of what has transpired in this world."

Isla nodded, her heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and dread. A settlement meant people, and people meant information—but also more complications. She adjusted her satchel, falling into step beside Auren as they began their journey toward Wayward.

The barren terrain eventually gave way to rolling hills dotted with patches of strange, luminescent flowers. The glow they emitted was soft, casting a dreamlike light around them as they walked. It felt otherworldly, as if they were traversing the boundary between reality and illusion, and for a moment, Isla wondered if they were even still on the same world she once knew.

Hours passed, their silence broken only by the rhythmic crunch of gravel beneath their boots and the distant call of creatures lurking in the shadows. The night stretched on, endless and unnerving, and though fatigue began to weigh on her, Isla refused to complain. She glanced at Auren from time to time, watching as he moved with effortless grace, unbothered by the long march or the growing chill.

Eventually, they came upon a narrow ravine, its steep walls cutting a jagged path through the landscape. A thin mist rolled through the ravine, curling around rocks like the fingers of an unseen specter. Auren paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked ahead.

"We cross here," he said, pointing to a narrow ledge that wound its way along the ravine wall.

Isla stared at the ledge, her stomach twisting nervously. It was barely wide enough for a single person, and the drop below was shrouded in darkness. She swallowed hard, her [Trap Awareness] prickling at the edges of her mind. "Are you sure about this?"

Auren glanced at her, an amused smile playing on his lips. "Afraid of heights, Isla Vale?"

She scowled at him, squaring her shoulders. "No. Just... cautious."

"Good," he said, turning to step onto the ledge. "Caution will keep you alive."

With a deep breath, Isla followed, her fingers brushing against the rock wall for balance. Each step felt precarious, the gravel shifting beneath her boots. The mist thickened as they moved further, and Isla could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She focused on her breathing, trying to keep her nerves steady.

Halfway across, a distant, guttural growl echoed up from the depths of the ravine. Isla's breath caught in her throat, and she looked down instinctively, her eyes widening. Below, something moved—something large, its form barely visible through the thick fog. She could see the glint of eyes, glowing faintly with mana.

"Auren," she whispered urgently. "There's something down there."

He paused, glancing over his shoulder at her. His eyes flicked to the movement below, and for a moment, he seemed to consider the situation. Then, he smiled—a cold, confident smile. "Then we best not fall, should we?"

Isla bit her lip, nodding, her grip tightening on the rock. She kept her eyes forward, focusing on each step, refusing to look down again. The growl came again, closer this time, and the mist seemed to swirl with agitation. Whatever lurked below, it was aware of their presence.

Finally, they reached the other side of the ravine, and Isla let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. She stepped off the ledge, her legs shaky, and turned to watch as Auren followed with effortless grace. He stepped onto solid ground, his gaze meeting hers, a hint of approval in his eyes.

"You did well," he said, his voice softer than usual.

Isla blinked, surprised by the unexpected praise. She nodded, her heart still racing. "Thanks," she muttered, trying to sound nonchalant.

Auren turned his gaze back toward the path ahead. "Come. Wayward is not far now."

They continued their journey, the landscape slowly shifting as they moved. The air grew warmer, the ground leveling out into a series of gentle slopes. In the distance, Isla could see a faint glow—a collection of lights, flickering against the night sky. The sight of it filled her with a mix of relief and trepidation.

"A settlement," she breathed, her pace quickening. "That must be Wayward."

Auren nodded, his eyes fixed on the distant lights. "Indeed. We will find what we need there."

Isla glanced at him, her mind racing with questions. What kind of place was Wayward? Would the people there be friendly, or would they see Auren for what he was—a god, a threat? She knew one thing for sure: nothing about this journey would be simple.

The lights of Wayward grew closer, and with them came the sounds of civilization—distant voices, the creak of wagon wheels, the occasional bark of a dog. Isla's heart pounded with a mixture of excitement and fear. She had no idea what awaited them, but she knew that whatever it was, it would be another step deeper into this strange, new world.

The gates of Wayward were tall and wooden, reinforced with iron bands, a testament to the settlement's need for security in these uncertain times. A pair of guards stood at the entrance, their armor pieced together from what looked like scraps of old-world metal and new-world mana-infused materials. They eyed Auren and Isla warily as they approached, their hands resting on the hilts of their weapons.

"Halt," one of them called out, his eyes narrowing. "State your business."

Auren stepped forward, his gaze meeting the guard's without hesitation. "We seek entry. Supplies and information." His voice was calm, but there was an edge to it that made the guard stiffen.

The other guard glanced at Isla, his eyes narrowing suspiciously. "You don't look like traders. Where are you from?"

Isla hesitated, unsure of how to answer. Before she could speak, Auren interjected, his tone sharp. "Our origins are of no concern to you. We have coin to pay for what we need."

The guard frowned, but after a moment, he nodded reluctantly. "Fine. But keep out of trouble. We've had enough strange folk passing through lately."

He stepped aside, motioning for them to enter. Isla let out a quiet sigh of relief, following Auren through the gates and into the settlement.

Wayward was larger than she had expected. The streets were narrow, lined with buildings made of stone and wood, their windows glowing warmly with lantern light. People moved about, their faces weary but determined. Vendors called out from stalls, selling everything from food to weapons, their goods displayed under makeshift awnings. The air was thick with the scent of spices, smoke, and something else—something almost metallic, a reminder of the mana that now infused every part of their world