The storm roared like a living thing, its thunder shaking the earth and its lightning splitting the sky. Rain fell in sheets, drenching the forest and turning the ground to mud. Kaelith Veyra ran, his breath ragged, his heart pounding in his chest. Behind him, the shadows moved—twisted, shapeless things that slithered through the trees, their glowing red eyes fixed on him.
He didn't know how long he'd been running. Hours, maybe. Time blurred in the chaos of the storm. His boots slipped in the mud, and he stumbled, catching himself on the trunk of a gnarled tree. His hand burned where the bark scraped his palm, but he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. The things in the shadows were getting closer.
Kaelith glanced over his shoulder, his silver eyes narrowing. The creatures were gaining on him, their forms shifting and writhing like smoke. He cursed under his breath and pushed himself forward, his legs aching with every step. The storm raged around him, the wind howling like a wounded beast. Lightning flashed, illuminating the forest in stark, blinding light. For a moment, he saw them clearly—the shadow beasts, their jagged teeth bared, their claws tearing through the underbrush.
He couldn't outrun them. He knew that. But he had to try. He had to survive.
Kaelith's hand went to the hilt of the dagger at his belt, his fingers trembling. It was a pitiful weapon against the creatures chasing him, but it was all he had. He'd left his sword behind in the village, along with everything else he'd ever known. The memory of it burned in his mind—the flames, the screams, the shadow beasts pouring into the streets. He'd been too late to save them. Too weak.
The thought fueled his anger, and he clenched his teeth. He wouldn't die here. Not like this. Not while the shadow beasts still roamed the world.
A low growl echoed behind him, and Kaelith spun around, his dagger raised. The shadow beasts were closer now, their forms solidifying as they closed the distance. He could see their eyes, glowing like embers in the darkness. They were hunting him, toying with him. They knew he was trapped.
Kaelith backed away, his mind racing. He needed a plan, but his thoughts were a jumbled mess. The storm, the beasts, the village—it was too much. He felt the weight of it pressing down on him, threatening to crush him. And beneath it all, there was something else. Something darker. It stirred in the depths of his soul, a presence he couldn't name but had always feared.
The shadow beasts lunged.
Kaelith reacted on instinct, slashing with his dagger. The blade passed through the creature's form as if it were made of smoke, and he stumbled, off-balance. The beast hissed, its claws raking across his arm. Pain flared, hot and sharp, and he cried out, falling to his knees. The storm roared above him, the rain washing the blood from his wound.
He was going to die here.
The thought was strangely calm, almost comforting. He'd fought for so long, carried the weight of his curse for so many years. Maybe this was how it was meant to end. Maybe this was his punishment for failing them.
But as the shadow beasts closed in, something inside him snapped. A spark of defiance, a flicker of rage. He wouldn't let them win. He wouldn't let the darkness take him.
Kaelith raised his head, his silver eyes blazing. The storm responded, the wind whipping around him, the lightning crackling in the sky. He felt it then—the power that had always lurked within him, waiting to be unleashed. It surged through his veins, hot and wild, and he let out a scream that was swallowed by the thunder.
The shadow beasts hesitated, their glowing eyes narrowing. Kaelith stood, his body trembling with the force of the storm. He raised his hands, and the lightninganswered, striking the ground around him in a blinding cascade of light. The shadow beasts shrieked, their forms dissolving into smoke as the storm consumed them.
For a moment, there was silence. The storm still raged, but the shadow beasts were gone. Kaelith stood amidst the wreckage, his chest heaving, his arms trembling. The power within him subsided, leaving him drained and hollow. He fell to his knees, the rain soaking through his clothes, the mud clinging to his skin.
He had survived. But at what cost?
The question lingered in his mind as he stared at his hands. They were shaking, and he couldn't tell if it was from exhaustion or fear. The storm had saved him, but it had also revealed the truth he'd spent his life trying to hide. He was a Stormshade, a wielder of the Eternal Storm. And now, the world would know.
A sound broke through the storm—a voice, faint but clear. Kaelith turned, his senses on high alert. Through the rain and the darkness, he saw a figure approaching. It was a woman, her cloak billowing in the wind, her eyes sharp and calculating. She carried a sword at her side, and her movements were confident, almost predatory.
"Well, well," she said, her voice carrying over the storm. "Looks like I found something interesting."
Kaelith tensed, his hand going to his dagger. "Who are you?"
The woman smirked, her gaze flickering to the scorched ground where the shadow beasts had been. "Name's Zara Draven. And you, my friend, are in a world of trouble."
Kaelith didn't respond. He was too tired, too overwhelmed. But as Zara stepped closer, he felt a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, she could help him. Or maybe she'd kill him. Either way, he had no choice but to find out.
The storm raged on, and Kaelith's journey began.