Chapter 58: Chapter 58: I see light Rhian had a pale face now, not just because of his skin tone, but from exhaustion.
His arms ached from carrying Nia for so long, and his legs felt like they had been running through mud.
He had been walking for what felt like hours. But walking alone would have been fine.
The real issue was the constant attacks.
Those phasing monsters hadn’t let up. Every few minutes, another group would slip out from the walls, floors, even the ceiling.
Always the same. Same attacks, same movements. They weren’t hard to kill anymore. But it was getting harder to lift his arms, harder to stay focused.
At first, he killed them all.
Every one that came, he cut down. He took their cores, adding them to the small pouch hanging loosely at his side.
But after a while, it stopped being worth the effort. He started moving faster, trying to ignore them, hoping they’d back off if he didn’t engage.
They didn’t.
When he tried to run, they’d phase in and trip him. Every time. He hit the ground more times than he could count. Once, he nearly dropped Nia, barely catching her before her head hit the stone.
So he was forced to fight. Again and again.
He killed every single one. Until he couldn’t even bend down to pick up their cores anymore.
Until his arms were too tired to dig them out. Until the only thing left to do was walk. Move forward. Just keep going.
His breaths were rough now. Dry. His throat stung. Every step was slow. Unstable.
Then his eyes caught it.
A faint shimmer ahead. Not another portal, not more mist. Light.
Actual light.
He blinked, not trusting what he saw. But it was there, growing brighter, cutting through the long dark tunnel ahead like a doorway cracking open.
He froze, staring at it, wide-eyed.
Then he looked down at Nia in his arms.
A weak smile formed across his face, and his voice rasped low.
"We did it."
He moved as the light drew closer. Every step felt heavier than the last. His legs were shaking now, his grip on Nia starting to loosen.
’No... no, don’t fall yet,’ he told himself.
He pushed forward, step by step, until he crossed the threshold. The tunnel behind him gave way to open air. His skin met the light.
And then his body gave out.
His knees buckled. His arms lost their strength. Nia slipped from his grasp as they both fell forward.
His face dropped straight onto her stomach. His arms stayed locked around her, still cradling her back and legs, but without any tension.
He didn’t even grunt.
His vision simply went black.
Rhian’s vision stayed black. He clenched his fists weakly, trying to lift his head, but nothing answered. His body was stone. His breath caught in his throat.
Footsteps echoed nearby. Slow, deliberate.
Panic rose up inside him, but he couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. His muscles refused him.
Then he felt it—warmth. A soft heat, not from the ground or the air, but from something standing close.
A voice followed.
Gentle, feminine, yet threaded with an authority that sank into his bones.
"To think I left you with that trickster... and this is what happens."
The words brushed over him like a whisper inside his skull.
’Trickster? Who the hell is that?’ Rhian thought, confusion stabbing through the haze.
The voice didn’t pause.
"Your seals are buried too deep, my dear son. Let your mother help you... I know you can hear me. I am not truly here, but this will do."
The warmth grew stronger, blooming along his back, seeping into his skin.
"Listen closely. Beware those you surround yourself with. And beware those nosy ravens... if you see one, kill it without hesitation... and prepare as it means trouble is there."
Rhian’s heart pounded, but his body stayed limp.
The voice softened, almost affectionate.
"I hate to leave you with unending questions... but I cannot interfere more than this. Go to the World Tree. Once you reach it, everything will be revealed to you."
A pause. The air thickened, as if the world itself held its breath.
"And one more thing..."
He felt a touch brush his bare back, tender, almost motherly.
"I do hope you like wings."
The contact burned, not painfully, but sharp and deep, like something was searing itself into his spine.
Rhian tried to cry out, but no sound escaped.
The world tilted. Darkness folded tighter around him, pulling him under. His last thought, before slipping out of consciousness, was the strange itching spread between his shoulder blades.
.
.
.
.
In a dead realm where the grass rotted underfoot and the trees stretched gnarled and black toward a colorless sky, only one tree remained alive.
It stood tall at the center of the wasteland, its bark still vibrant, its leaves untouched by decay.
Wrapped in the thick, living roots of that tree was a woman.
She was breathtaking in a way no poet’s verse or artist’s brush could capture. Golden hair spilled down her shoulders, shining even in the bleakness.
Around her neck hung a golden necklace that wrapped around her fragile–looking neck, pulsing faintly with light.
Her emerald eyes stared forward, distant yet burning with stubborn life.
The roots bound her tightly, weaving into her limbs, her waist, her throat.
She seemed part of the tree, as if her body was a fragment of it—alive but imprisoned.
Despite her condition, her beauty remained untouched.
But then suddenly, she coughed heavily. Blood spilled from her mouth, dribbling down her chin and staining the roots that held her.
A low, rumbling sound broke the heavy silence.
Skrrhhh... skkkrrrrhhk...
The heavy stomp of hooves followed, shaking the dead ground. Out from the mist lumbered a massive boar, its tusks inscribed with glowing runes. Its hide was thick and scarred, its eyes dark but sharp.
The boar halted before the woman.
Though it had no human face, the feeling it radiated was clear. Worry.
The woman tilted her head weakly, her lips twitching into a faint smile.
"I’m fine, Hildis," she said, her voice cracked but still holding strength. "He got the cloak. And I managed to put the rune on him."
She coughed again, more blood staining her chin.
"Hopefully that... treacherous spawn of filth..." Her eyes narrowed briefly, the insult aimed far away, at a certain god of chaos.
"...can keep his promise. And make sure the boy reaches the World Tree."
The boar pawed the ground with one heavy hoof, the runes along its tusks flickering like embers.
The woman leaned her head back against the living trunk behind her. Her gaze turned upward, staring into the gray sky beyond the black branches.
"Just hold on a little longer..." she whispered. "Please."
The roots tightened gently around her, almost like a cradle.
And then all was still once more.