The aftermath of the trial left Revan physically drained but mentally alight with questions. As the two trekked back toward the outskirts of Kaldora, the weight of his experience settled on his shoulders. He had harnessed the Shadow Seal's power, but it hadn't come easily. Each surge of energy left a mark, not just on his body but on his mind, as though the Abyss itself was carving its influence into his soul.
"Rest up tonight," Kael said, his tone unusually serious as they approached the village's edge. "The first trial is just the beginning. You've got the potential, but potential means nothing if you can't control it."
Revan nodded wordlessly, his mind preoccupied. The encounter with the shadowspawn still lingered in his thoughts. That creature had been more than a mindless predator—it felt aware, almost sentient. And then there were the whispers. He hadn't told Kael, but during the battle, he'd heard faint voices, their words unintelligible but laced with a chilling familiarity.
As they entered the village, the usual cold stares and muttered insults greeted Revan. It no longer bothered him as much; the disdain of Kaldora's villagers seemed trivial compared to the darkness he had faced in the Wraithwood. He was about to head toward the small shack that had become his temporary home when Kael stopped him.
"One more thing," Kael said, his hand resting on Revan's shoulder. "Tonight, you might dream… or at least, it'll feel like a dream. Don't fight it. The Abyss doesn't just speak through battle—it whispers when you're most vulnerable."
Revan frowned, unease creeping into his chest. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Kael's lips curved into a faint smile, one that lacked his usual mockery. "You'll see soon enough. Get some rest."
---
Revan's shack was little more than a glorified hovel, but it served its purpose. He sat on the rough cot, staring at the mark on his chest. The Shadow Seal glowed faintly, its intricate patterns shifting like living ink. He ran a hand over it, feeling the cold energy pulse beneath his skin.
"Don't fight it," Kael had said.
With a sigh, Revan lay down and closed his eyes. Sleep came quickly, dragging him into a world far darker than he expected.
---
He stood on the edge of a vast abyss, the ground beneath his feet crumbling with every step. The air was thick with a suffocating fog, and the sky above was a swirling vortex of black and violet. Far below, tendrils of darkness writhed like living things, stretching upward as though reaching for him.
Revan's breath caught in his throat. This place felt impossibly real, far more vivid than any dream he had ever experienced. The whispers were louder here, a cacophony of voices that seemed to come from every direction.
"Who's there?" he called, his voice echoing into the void.
For a moment, there was silence. Then, a figure emerged from the shadows—a tall, cloaked being with no discernible face, only a void where its features should have been. Its presence radiated an overwhelming sense of power and dread.
"You have come," the figure said, its voice a thousand voices in one, reverberating through the air and Revan's very soul.
Revan took a step back, his instincts screaming at him to run. "Who… or what are you?"
"I am a fragment," the figure replied. "A sliver of what lies beyond the Veil. You carry a piece of the Abyss within you, mortal. A power not meant for your kind."
Revan's heart raced. "I didn't ask for this. I didn't choose to be… whatever I am now."
"Choice is an illusion," the figure said, its tone devoid of emotion. "You were marked for this path long before you drew your first breath. The Abyss is not a gift. It is a burden, a curse. And yet, it is the only means by which you may defy the cycle."
"The cycle?" Revan echoed, his mind reeling.
"The endless repetition," the figure said, its form flickering like a dying flame. "Your world is a construct, a fragile plaything for the Elders Beyond the Veil. They create, destroy, and recreate, endlessly resetting the stage to maintain their dominion. You are but a pawn in their game."
Revan's fists clenched. "If that's true, then why me? Why was I brought here?"
The figure tilted its head, as though amused. "Because you are expendable. A soul plucked from another existence, a vessel into which the Abyssal Seal could be bound. But there is potential within you, Shadowborne. Potential to shatter the cycle and sever the Veil."
The term struck him like a bolt of lightning. "Shadowborne? Is that what I am?"
"You are many things," the figure replied. "A remnant of a forgotten life, a beacon for the Abyss, and a harbinger of change. But whether you embrace your role or succumb to the abyssal hunger remains to be seen."
Revan felt his anger rise. "You're telling me I'm supposed to just… accept this? To become some kind of weapon for forces I don't understand?"
The figure leaned closer, its void-like face inches from Revan's. "You misunderstand. The Abyss does not demand your servitude. It offers you freedom—freedom from the Elders, from the cycle, from the chains that bind all who dwell in this world. But such freedom comes at a price."
"What price?" Revan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
"Your humanity," the figure said. "The Abyss will consume you, piece by piece, until nothing remains but shadow. To wield its power is to risk becoming it. That is the choice before you: wield the darkness and lose yourself, or resist and remain powerless."
Revan's mind swirled with conflicting emotions. The figure's words rang true in a way that unsettled him. He had felt the hunger of the Abyss, the pull that threatened to overtake him during the trial. But he had also felt the power, the potential to rise above the villagers' scorn, the Eclipse Covenant's threats, and even the Elders' dominion.
"What if I can control it?" he asked, his voice steady despite the fear gnawing at him. "What if I can use the Abyss without losing myself?"
The figure was silent for a long moment, the whispers around them intensifying. "A bold notion," it said at last. "But to control the Abyss is to stand against the very nature of existence. Few have tried. Fewer have succeeded."
Revan met the void where its eyes should have been, his resolve hardening. "I'll be the first, then."
The figure tilted its head again, as though appraising him. "We shall see, Shadowborne. Your journey has only begun. Beware the whispers, and tread carefully. The Abyss is watching… and it is hungry."
Before Revan could respond, the ground beneath him gave way, and he plunged into the writhing darkness below.
---
Revan woke with a gasp, his heart pounding and his body drenched in sweat. The room was dark, but the faint glow of the Shadow Seal on his chest illuminated the space. He could still hear the whispers, faint and distant, but undeniably real.
He sat up, running a hand through his hair as he tried to steady his breathing. The dream—or vision—had felt too real to dismiss as a mere trick of his mind. The figure's words echoed in his thoughts, filling him with both dread and determination.
The Abyss was watching. And so were the Elders.
If he was truly destined to defy them, he would need to become stronger. Strong enough to wield the Abyss without succumbing to it. Strong enough to shatter the cycle.
Revan stood, the glow of the mark fading as he steadied himself. He had made his choice. Whatever the cost, he would see this path through to the end.