A/N: Author here! So, I decided to drop this here to avoid you getting confused or dropping the book. So, unlike other stories, the MC doesn't get killed and reincarnated in the first or second chapter. It's kinda slow-paced for the beginning chapters, but trust me when I say, it's all going to be worth it. So, please go along with me and enjoy the story.
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The wind howled as Elyria struggled to maintain her balance on the steep, jagged cliff of the mountain. The rocky terrain beneath her feet was treacherous, and every step she took was measured with the utmost caution. The mountain loomed high, its peak lost in the swirling mists that clung to its jagged ridges, a place where few dared venture, let alone walk in the state she was in.
Her breath came in quick, strained gasps, and despite the cold air biting at her skin, a sheen of sweat covered her forehead. She had come so far, pushed her body and soul to the limit driven by the singular mission to reach the Crescent Expanse, and now, she was so close. But the pain, the searing pain in her abdomen, was more than she could bear.
Suddenly, the sharp sting of agony shot through her, and a cry tore from her lips "Ahhhhh!!!". She staggered, clutching her swollen belly, and felt something wet trickle down her legs. Water poured out from between her thighs, drenching her legs as the overwhelming force of her body's betrayal sent her reeling.
"The baby… the baby is coming," she whispered through gritted teeth, her voice weak, yet filled with determination. Her heart pounded in her chest, a frantic rhythm that seemed to echo the frantic pounding of her mind.
She looked down at the blood-streaked water pooling at her feet, and her fingers trembled as she instinctively cupped her belly. Her face twisted in a mixture of fear and pain as the realization set in, she was giving birth here, in the wilderness, in the heart of a storm.
The weather shifted abruptly, as if the world itself was reacting to her struggle. The sky darkened, clouds swirling ominously as the wind began to pick up in strength. What had once been a crisp mountain breeze now became a vicious gale, howling through the rocks like a creature seeking to tear everything apart.
Heavy raindrops began to fall, then in torrents, drenching Elyria to the bone, soaking her ragged clothes as if the heavens themselves wept with her.
The storm seemed to be gathering in force, its fury an undeniable reflection of the turmoil she was enduring. Thunder rumbled like an angry god, shaking the very ground beneath her feet, and the jagged flashes of lightning illuminated the desolation around her, casting fleeting glimpses of the vast, unforgiving landscape.
Each strike felt like it was burning her skin with its intensity, but nothing compared to the fire surging through her body.
Her breaths became desperate, her screams growing louder as the contractions worsened. Her body trembled, and the baby fought to be born. She could feel the pressure mounting, but something unseen, something powerful, was holding it back. An invisible force pressed against her, making it impossible for her to bring the child into the world.
With every scream, tears poured from her eyes, mixing with the rain as they ran down her dirt-streaked face. She could feel the child struggling within her, pushing against the unseen barrier, desperate for release. Her hand clutched at the stones around her for support as she fought to stay on her feet, her legs growing weaker with each passing second.
Blood began to roll down her thighs, staining the stones beneath her, marking her path with crimson. But Elyria didn't stop. She couldn't. Not now.
Looking desperately around, she scanned the mountain for any shelter, anything to offer her some relief from the storm. The weather had turned the mountain into a slick, treacherous mess, and each step she took brought her closer to losing her footing. Her vision blurred with pain, and her head swam from the constant pressure.
Yet there was no shelter, no refuge. Only the mountain, the wind, and the storm.
As she stepped forward, her foot slipped on the icy stone beneath her. Time seemed to stretch as she struggled to regain her balance, but it was too late. She lost her footing completely, and the ground disappeared from beneath her. Elyria screamed, the sound lost in the howling winds, as she fell. The world spun around her, the air whipping at her, and she plummeted down the mountain, her body crashing against the jagged rocks.
It seemed to go on forever, her fall a moment stretched into eternity. Her head hit the cold ground with a sickening crack, her body jerking painfully with the impact.
The world ceased to exist, and Elyria was consumed by unconsciousness, her body crumpled against the harsh stones, her breath shallow and labored. Then, everything went dark.
Elyria's eyes fluttered open, but the world around her was different, uncertain. She wasn't on the cold, jagged mountain anymore. Instead, she felt weightless, suspended in the air, as though floating within an endless, warm space. Her body felt detached from the world, as if she were both everywhere and nowhere all at once.
"Am I dead?" Her voice, weak and trembling, echoed through the emptiness, carrying her question into the unknown.
Then, a chorus of voices filled the space around her, soft yet powerful, their tone like a wind caressing the earth.
"No, you aren't dead. You are very much alive, and you are about to bring forth great powers to the world."
Elyria's heart raced in confusion and fear as she tried to make sense of the strange, ethereal voices that surrounded her. She looked around, her eyes straining to catch sight of the source, but saw only a glowing light that seemed to stretch infinitely. The voices continued, their words echoing with a gentle power that resonated deep within her.
"But the child is no ordinary child, and cannot be brought out without divine help," they said, the voices reverberating like the wind through the branches of a great tree.
Still floating, Elyria searched for any physical sign of the speakers. But all she could see were forms: beings that shimmered with bright light, figures vague and ephemeral like a summer breeze caught in a ray of sunlight.
The voices grew more distinct, and their forms started to solidify, taking shape, but they remained veiled in a radiant, almost blinding glow. The figures spoke in unison, their voices like the sound of distant thunder, rolling yet soothing.
"We are the Aevians," they declared, their voices like the roll of thunder across a wide valley, "Ethereal beings of light and air, protectors of the Sanctuary. We are said to be the messengers of the Creator, guiding those who seek the truths of the prophecy."
Elyria's heart skipped a beat as the words struck her with an ancient weight, a deep, mysterious pull. The voices continued, their power growing stronger, almost like a storm gathering intensity.
"It was no coincidence that you were sent here by Adessia," the voices said, the words falling like a heavy storm. "It has been foretold in the prophecy. This is to ensure the protection of the child, protection from those who would seek his power for themselves, from those who would have him killed, and from those who would turn him to the dark ways."
Elyria's mind swirled as she tried to process their words. She felt a strange connection to them, a bond formed of light and air, and the heaviness of their truth. Before she could speak, she felt something or someone touch her stomach, a soft pressure that spread through her, sending waves of warmth and calm throughout her body.
"This is just to ease you before we get to the Sanctuary of Aevora," one of the spirits spoke, their voice like a sudden clap of thunder, deep and resonant. "The childbirth will be very painful. Brace yourself."
Elyria shuddered, feeling her body go cold despite the warmth of the spirit's touch. But she nodded, the words of the spirit grounding her even as her heart pounded in fear. She could not deny it, she could feel the child stirring within her, desperate to come into the world. But the power of the prophecy… the power of this child… it was too much for her to comprehend.
Minutes passed in a blur, and soon she felt the shift, an invisible force guiding her onward. Then, out of nowhere, a brilliant light burst forth from the spirits, and a path appeared illuminated by an unearthly glow that cut through the darkness.
The path led them to a place of stark beauty, a sanctuary of stone and light, untouched by time. The Sanctuary of Aevora.
As they entered, Elyria was gently lowered onto a bed, her body still floating slightly above the surface. The air was thick with power, the space filled with an aura of protection and ancient energy. The spirits moved around her, their actions quick and purposeful.
They spread her legs, preparing her for the inevitable. The pain within her grew unbearable, and she cried out in agony.
"Ahhh!" Her scream split the air, her body wracked with spasms as the pressure within her built to an almost unbearable peak. The voices of the spirits surrounded her, resonating like thunder, each word louder and more powerful than the last.
One of the spirits spoke, their voice like the clash of thunder in a storm: "Push, Elyria. The child must come into this world."
The light surrounding her intensified, becoming almost blinding. It engulfed her, and she screamed again, louder this time, as the waves of pain surged through her. The water broke, fluid pouring from her like a torrent, mixing with the blood that stained the bed beneath her. The spirits' voices grew louder, their words now a rhythmic chant, like a storm's steady drumbeat.
For hours, she labored, her screams echoing through the chamber, each cry a mixture of pain, fear, and desperation. The spirits remained by her side, their hands raised, sending beams of light into her, filling her with energy and soothing the pain, only for it to return, fiercer than before. Her body quaked, trembling with the strain of it all.
"Ahhh! Ahhhhhh!!" Elyria screamed again, her throat raw from the exertion. She was drenched in sweat, tears streaming down her face, mixing with the rain of pain that seemed to pour from her every pore.
The thunderous voices of the spirits reverberated in the air, their words like an incantation meant to bring forth the divine: "Hold strong, Elyria. Hold strong for the prophecy."
Three hours passed. And then, a new sound filled the air, melodic, soft, yet powerful. The cry of a child, pure and strong. It rang out in the Sanctuary, a sound so beautiful and potent that the air itself seemed to choke on the force of it.
The spirits stopped, their hands falling, their voices silent. One of them moved forward, taking the child in their arms. They cleaned him gently and wrapped him in a white cloth, their touch tender and careful.
The rest of the spirits bowed, their forms flickering in the radiant light, as the one holding the child raised him high. The voice that spoke was filled with power, the words like thunder striking the heavens.
"He's here!" the spirit declared, their voice booming with a divine force that shook the very air.
In an instant, a deafening thunderclap split the sky. Lightning struck with such force that the world seemed to tremble beneath it, flashes of light streaking across the dark expanse. For five long minutes, the world seemed to be in chaos, the heavens and earth locked in a violent struggle.
And then, as quickly as it had begun, the storm ceased. The sky cleared, and the world was bathed in an otherworldly light, as bright as day.
The prophecy has come to life. The child is born.