Lysandra's pulse thundered in her ears as the god's words sank in.
"You will become the hunter."
The cavern's walls trembled as if the very earth itself responded to his voice. Shadows coiled at the edges of her vision, flickering with an eerie life of their own.
She forced herself to breathe through the pain in her side. "And if I refuse?"
The god's expression didn't change, but the air around him grew heavier.
"Then you will die as prey."
Lysandra's fingers twitched. His presence was suffocating, pressing into her bones, into the raw wound in her side. But there was something else—a pull.
A whisper of power.
She had spent her whole life running. Hiding. Fighting battles she couldn't win.
Now, she had a choice.
And she was tired of being hunted.
Slowly, she pushed herself to her feet, ignoring the sharp pain. "What do you want from me?"
The god watched her, his form shifting, melting between shapes.
"Blood."
The Trial of the Forgotten
The cavern seemed to breathe around her, expanding into endless darkness.
Then—the ground cracked beneath her feet.
She barely had time to react before she was falling.
The air rushed past her ears, the cavern walls disappearing as she plunged into a void with no end.
Then—impact.
She landed hard on a solid surface, pain jolting up her spine. The world around her had changed.
No longer a cavern.
She was standing in a ruined temple.
Columns of black stone loomed around her, cracked and broken, tangled with vines that pulsed like veins. The sky above was endless twilight, swirling with clouds that flickered between silver and gold.
A place lost to time.
The god's voice echoed, distant yet everywhere.
"This is your trial."
Lysandra's breath hitched. She turned—and froze.
A figure stood at the temple's altar.
At first, it looked human—tall, cloaked in black, unmoving. But then it shifted, and Lysandra saw its true form.
A beast.
Its body was long and serpentine, covered in obsidian-like scales that shimmered as it moved. Its eyes burned with gold, and from its back, shadowed wings unfurled.
A forgotten creature. A guardian of the lost god.
And it was looking straight at her.
The First Kill
Lysandra's heartbeat pounded in her skull.
This wasn't a normal fight. This was a test.
She could feel it—the god was watching, waiting.
The beast lunged.
Lysandra barely had time to react before claws slashed toward her. She rolled, pain flaring through her wounded side, but she ignored it. She reached for her dagger—only to find her hands empty.
No weapons.
The god's voice whispered through the air.
"You are the weapon."
Lysandra grit her teeth. Fine.
Shadows curled around her fingertips. The darkness inside her stirred, cold and hungry.
The beast attacked again, faster this time.
Lysandra didn't dodge.
Instead, she stepped toward it.
And when its claws came down—she caught them.
A shock of power rushed through her veins. The beast snarled, golden eyes widening in recognition—or fear.
And Lysandra tore the shadows from its body.
The beast screamed.
Its body shattered into wisps of darkness, dissolving into the air.
Silence followed.
Then—the god spoke.
"Good."
Lysandra exhaled, her body trembling. The temple around her faded, shifting back into the cavern.
She was standing before the god once more.
And this time, he smiled.
The Price of Power
"You have passed," he said, stepping toward her. "But power has a price, little hunter."
Lysandra felt different. The wound on her side was gone. Her breathing was steady.
But something inside her had changed.
She could feel the shadows—more than ever. They were no longer just whispers.
They were hers.
The god lifted a hand, tracing a finger through the air. A mark burned against her skin—an ancient sigil, dark and curling, just above her heart.
"A gift," he murmured. "A reminder."
Lysandra swallowed. She had just made a deal with something far older than she could comprehend.
But for the first time in her life—
She wasn't afraid.
She met the god's gaze. "What happens now?"
His golden eyes gleamed.
"Now, the hunt begins."