A piercing scream filled the volcano's mouth. Fighting with opponents had almost rendered me paralyzed. Chase here. I can hear his anguish from where I am. He's finished it. It has been completed. Stella has been drained to death by him. Stella... My dearest friend. She's left. She was consumed by both, as I have seen many times. All of my friends were being taken away from me by fate. Sandro. Myra. Oswin. Now Stella. Tears streamed down my cheeks gradually. I really wish we had more time. Stella exudes positivity. I wish it had ended differently. This is not the case. This is not the case. Chase yelled once more. This created a powerful wave of energy. The man is in mourning. I understand your anguish. That is why his power has been increased by a factor of two. Never underestimate the strength of a bereaved soul. It is capable of destroying an entire village in its grief. Thank you very much! I raised my eyes to the doom tree's flowers once more. My heart was pounding
A strong breeze blew. Leaves, small branches, and sand fluttered in the breeze. The entire opening of that volcano was barely visible to me. Even with my glasses on, I fell asleep because my lashes are short. I leaned in close to Fabian and Stella. "Clypeus!" Mira begins to cast her spell. Then, gradually, a semitransparent, glass-like dome forms around us. Mira sat behind the sobbing Fabian, comforting his back. Many people see it as rude and hard, but there is a hint of sadness on its face. It is understanding. "She desired to live. I could see it in her eyes. She wanted to be with us, but fate had other plans." The man hugged Stella's body once more. "She's a pleasant person. I'm sorry for your loss, Fabian and Isa "Fina, who was sitting at Stella's feet, made a sad statement. Even though Fina's statement was brief, I could sense her sincerity. I was surprised to hear Mira sobbing behind Fabian. Perhaps he is sorry for what he did to Stella. Tears formed on the bridge of her ey
My mind was deluged with disturbing visuals. There appeared to be no living things. Nothing but an enormous void of darkness exists. Should we consider Tribes over at this point? Is this what my bleak visions of the future mean? So, this is it? "Chase," Mira muttered behind me. He clung to my arm, which he hadn't done in a long time because he hated me for losing Sandro. "Please tell me what you see, Isabel. Please let me know if you can see the photo of us... of Tribus." I stammered as I tried to speak. As thick black smoke gradually enveloped the entire dome, my entire system trembled. "I'm not seeing anything. I can't. Nothing is visible to me!" "This can't be happening," said Fina, who was standing behind me. The density of the dark smoke increased. None of the doom tree's limbs were visible to us. Our shared anxiety united us. Is it the end of everything? The last place I saw Chase, my eyes widened as I noticed a small light there. That is until the intensity of the storm
Chase wished for her. Because fate had decreed that he would be the one to save the Tribe when evil seeded. For a long time, almost every living thing on the planet believed that this was the ultimate goal—he who would save us all. True. I'm guessing quite frequently. But, there are those people who selected the road to their own ruin. Either temporarily or indefinitely. He could have been one of the unlucky few. Be cautious of what you hope for. The rumors have it, but he didn't pay any heed. Chase did not beg a falling star to help him keep the tribe safe on the night in question. He merely desired to be content. The desire to find true love. He thought that true love had an eternal essence. He did. Stella descended from the stars the same night. His desire. Yet, if wishes could be granted, why didn't his hope for bliss and eternal love come true? Why did it tear him to shreds? Perhaps not all of our desires are granted; perhaps a meteor's fall does not magically fulfill all of
The core, once a searing inferno, had transformed into a mesmerizing spectacle. A white dwarf, a circular tapestry of purest white, akin to ethereal smoke, emerged from the cosmic forge. Yet, within this celestial masterpiece, a profound shift unfurled. Threads of the smoky fabric darkened, becoming ebony strands woven from the fabric of death itself. As this transformation unfolded, fumes spiraled, giving birth to tendrils of smog and luminescence that waltzed in a cosmic dance. Astonishingly, I felt not only the unraveling of the universe but the essence of my very being. Energy dissipated like morning mist under the first rays of dawn. My body, my essence, my soul—all dissolved into the ephemeral tendrils of the void. A breathtaking realization washed over me. I had perished. Not unlike the countless deaths I'd endured before. This passing was but a fragment of the countless I'd faced—a normal cycle, an incessant fate I bore. Death was a well-worn garment, woven into my existenc
The rhythmic journey of the train to the southern realm of the land had stretched on for nearly a day and a half by then. Days of preparation had led to this point—a journey that would span several days itself: our migration to the fabled city of Tribus. Guided by the hands of my parents and my brother Avi, we had painstakingly readied ourselves for what lay ahead—a relocation into the heart of Tribus, a place revered and sought after. Our passage through the bureaucratic labyrinth had been lengthy, but the blessing of three powerful clans finally shone upon us. Leviste, Aragon, and Santi—the trio that held dominion—had sanctioned our ascent to the grandeur of Tribus. In this neighborhood, only the chosen few can claim residence. It's an honor of the highest order to hail from a city overseen by three influential families, their joint rule encompassing business, education, technology, military prowess, and nature's abundance. But entry is no trivial feat. Aspiring citizens must end
"Invitation, Miss?" the man in the tuxedo paired with a black bowtie asked me when I tried to enter the gate into the Arcane Circle of Baristo. I gave the invitation to him, and he examined it in great detail before accepting it. His dark eyes gave the invitation a careful examination before moving on. As he handed back the card, the smile on his face returned. The fact that the man was strikingly handsome was the clincher. He examined my entire physique in great detail. I ought to confess that despite the thick spectacle frame that matches the thickness of his eyebrows, he was pretty handsome. This is despite the fact that he had the power to stop my blood cold in its tracks. It was almost as if I'm looking at a model who's in the middle of getting her makeover when I look at his jawline since it was that perfect. I smiled back at him when he did, which he seemed to like. I was taken aback when I felt someone suddenly put their hand on my chest, which caused me to jump. It was only
He was very hot and lovely to look at. In plain view before my very eyes. Half-naked. Sweating. It's almost as if I've already met him in one of my nightmares before. Almost. Or was it all just a dream? I had the impression that we were connected in some odd way. Why do we become brighter whenever we are in each other's presence? Who is he? He was either a god or a fallen angel who had been sent from the mystery mountain of Noah to torment me by scorching the surface of my flesh. As I was still outside the Tribus, it appeared to me that the legends were true and that the gods actually resided in this location. They were not an illusion. I tried to take a small step backward, but as soon as my legs were able to lock with the rest of my body in what seemed to be an incomprehensible sensation, they stopped moving on their own and I was unable to go farther. Once more, the lights started to come on. It appeared as though we were unable to see the moon at all when we were in the bush. H