Mystery of The Unknown

'I want to live' Those were my only thoughts.'

The forest was a labyrinth of towering trees and tangled undergrowth, there was a young figure desperately running through them. 

Blood was trickling down the gaping hole through his chest, leaving a trail behind him. But the figure didn't seem to the feel the pain as he only ran and ran, every step a fight against the clawing branches and gnarled roots. 

'Haah, haah'

His breath came in ragged gasps, each one burning his lungs as he pushed himself to run faster, farther. 

Behind him, the shadows whispered and writhed, a dark presence that defied explanation, its malevolence palpable in the crisp night air.

'Who—or what—is chasing me?'

His heart pounded with a frantic rhythm, each beat a reminder of his desperation.

 He glanced over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the shifting darkness that seemed to swallow the very light of the moon. 

Panic surged through him, spurring him to tap into the only thing he knew could save him—his magic. 

With a flick of his wrist, he summoned a burst of light, a brilliant flare that cut through the gloom.

 The trees lit up like phantoms, their shadows dancing in the sudden brightness. But the light seemed not to affect the presence, as it swiftly avoid it ,its whispers growing louder, more insistent.

He stumbled, nearly falling, but his determination kept him upright. He focused his mind, drawing on the wellspring of power within him.

 His hands glowed with an ethereal energy, and he channeled it into a spell of protection.

 A shimmering bow formed around him, a thin spiral of magic that formed into an arrow ,it consumed a lot of mana, but it might buy him some time.

But time was not on his side. The presence closed in, its cold breath brushing against the nape of his neck. 

He could feel the weight of its malevolence, a darkness that threatened to consume him whole. His mind raced, searching for a way out, a plan, anything that could help him escape this nightmare.

With a burst of resolve, he gathered all his strength and unleashed the arrow, with it came a powerful blast of magic. 

The arrow seemed to have a blade at the tip, as it cut everything at a 100 meters radius. The ground trembled, the trees swayed, and the darkness recoiled for a moment. 

Seizing the opportunity, he sprinted forward, the path ahead illuminated by the fading remnants of his spell.

Hope flickered within him, fragile but alive. He knew he couldn't stop, not now, not ever.

As long as he kept running, kept fighting, there was a chance—a chance to outrun the shadows, to reclaim his freedom, and to uncover the truth behind the mysterious force that pursued him.

But then, the ground beneath him gave way. He fell, tumbling into a hidden ravine, the world spinning around him. Pain exploded through his body as he hit the bottom, his vision blurring.

 The darkness closed in, not just from the presence, but from the edges of his consciousness.

 As his eyes fluttered shut, the last thing he saw was the shadowy figure standing at the edge of the ravine, watching him with cold, unfeeling eyes.

But that figure came in closer, it's shadow creating a veil over him.

Maybe it was illusions from the pain of his broken body. He felt a warm veil covering his body and a warm embrace enveloping him. 

 The whispers grew louder, a cacophony of voices that drowned out his thoughts. And then, there was nothing but silence.

...

Gasp!

The sensation was both chilling and surreal, like being pulled from the depths of an icy lake. 

He opened his eyes, his vision blurred and unfocused. He was lying on the damp, cold ground of a cave, the rough texture of the stone pressing into his back. 

His back soaked with a strong iron smell, dying his white hair crimson red.

The air was thick with the scent of earth and decay, a heavy reminder of something he couldn't quite grasp. 

He reached up instinctively, fingers trembling as they brushed against a strange mark on his chest—a scar that seemed both old and new.

'Who am I?'

The question echoed in the chasms of his mind, met only by the deafening silence of forgotten memories. 

He glanced around, eyes catching on small details—the remnants of a fire still smoldering nearby, the shadows dancing on the cave walls, and the faint outline of the cave's entrance as if beckoning him towards an uncertain reality. 

The weight of the unknown pressed down on him, a heavy cloak shrouding any sense of self. He pushed himself up, feet touching the cold, uneven ground with a hesitant defiance. 

As he moved, he felt an eerie sensation—almost as if he had done this before. 

A small pool of water shimmered in the dim light, its surface reflecting the ghostly pallor of his face.

He approached it with a mixture of dread and curiosity, desperate for a glimpse of the face that might hold the answers he sought.

But the reflection offered no solace—only the hollow eyes of a stranger staring back at him, the eyes of someone who had lived and died and yet, somehow, returned.

'Crunch'