The shadow moved again, closer this time, a deliberate shift that sent a shiver of unease down Thalria’s spine. A figure. Thalria froze, every muscle in her body tensed, her heart racing. Her breath stilled in her throat, and she gripped her knife harder.


    From the shadows emerged an old face, one etched with the marks of countless battles. A jagged scar snaked from his right cheek to his lip, a stark, crimson line that told a story of pain and resilience. He was dressed in a military uniform—tattered, worn, but still recognizable. The fabric was frayed, the buttons tarnished, yet his posture was that of a seasoned soldier, a man who had faced and stared it down.


    He raised his hands, palms open, a universal gesture of peace, yet his stance a blend of caution and quiet confidence. His eyes, though weathered, held a sharp intelligence, a keen awareness that scanned the clearing, assessing the situation.


    Their eyes met, a silent challenge, a wordless exchange of suspicion and vigilance. She tightened her grip on the knife, the rough wood biting into her skin, but didn’t move. Her heart pounded in her chest, every instinct screaming to be ready, to anticipate the next move. The fire between them flickered, casting shadows that seemed to dance across the man’s face, distorting his features into a mask of shifting light and darkness.


    “Easy,” he rumbled, his voice gravelly, “I mean no trouble.” His words were meant to soothe, but they hung in the air, heavy with unspoken questions.


    Silent, she watched him, assessing his every move, searching for any sign of deception. Was he a threat? She hadn’t seen anybody else since she woke up in this strange world. Slowly, she lowered her knife, but her grip remained firm, her senses still on high alert.


    The silence ensued, a tense, pregnant pause that amplified the cracking of the fire. The man’s eyes briefly flicked behind her towards the still-cracking fire, his gaze lingering for a moment before he turned back to her, his expression unreadable.


    “Nice fire,” he murmured, his voice low but carrying a touch of dry humor, a subtle attempt to break the tension.


    She didn’t answer right away, her gaze shifting from the flames to the man in front of her, searching his face for any hint of malice. After a long pause, she finally spoke, her voice laced with caution. “You’ve seen better fires?”


    He gave a slight grin, the scar on his cheek pulling with movement. “I’ve seen worse, too.” His eyes flicked to the beast’s remains, then back to her. “And that thing… what was it”


    She hesitated, her gaze lingering on the creature’s torn flesh. “Food.”


    The man nodded slowly, his eyes filled with understanding, a silent acknowledgement of the harsh realities of their situation . He glanced behind him, and gave a slight inviting gesture with his hand, the movement gentle but deliberate.


    “Come out,” he called, his voice softening. “It’s safe.”


    From behind the cluster of trees, a figure hesitantly stepped forward, emerging from the shadows like a timid creature. A girl, no older than thirteen or fourteen, with wide cautious eyes and a cloak too large for her frame, its folds swallowing her small figure. She glanced at the mysterious woman before her, her gaze darting between Thalria and the man, then dropped to the dropped to the ground, her feet moving hesitantly over the dirt.


    The man smiled softly, his weathered face showing a mixture of weariness and affection as he looked down at the girl. “It''s alright, Juno,” he said gently, his voice reassuring. “She’s not going to hurt you.”


    Juno didn’t answer, her gaze fixed on the ground, her small hands clutching the edges of her cloak. She stood slightly to the side of the old man, peeking out from beneath the oversized hood of her cloak. Her eyes flickered towards the half-eaten meat by the fire, a mixture of hunger and apprehension in their depths.


    “I’m Thalria,” She said, extending her hand out in greeting. Her voice was soft but firm. “Are you hungry?”


    Juno hesitated for a moment, glancing at the offered hand, then up at Thalria’s face. She looked like she wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, she slowly stepped forward, her small hand reaching out to accept the offered hand, still cautious but less guarded.


    Taking that as a yes, Thalria uncoupled their hands and gently offered her the half-eaten meat, the charred flesh a stark offering in the dim light. Juno’s fingers brushed against it, tentative at first, then more eagerly as the hunger finally overtook her caution.


    “I found her close to where I woke up.” the old man said, giving a slight nod in acknowledgment, a silent explanation. “My name is Daln.”


    Offering a nod in return. “Thalria,” she continued.  “Do you know anything about this place?”


    “Nothing more than you, I presume.” Daln replied, his voice heavy with weariness. “I woke up in a world that can only be described as a living nightmare.”


    He glanced around at the dark, silent forest. “I wandered around for a while, trying to make sense of it all,” he continued, his voice rough with memory. “Then I came across her. We found some semblance of safety together. Eventually, we saw a fire in the distance. And now… here we are”


    This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.


    “How long have you been here?” Thalria asked, her voice tinged with a mixture of curiosity and dread.


    “It’s hard to keep track of time here,” Daln answered, his gaze drifting towards the plum sky.  “But I''d say… two, maybe three days.”


    Thalia gave a slow nod, her eyes, dark and searching, flickered to Daln. "Just as long as me. We arrived together, then." The realization hung heavy in the air, a silent question echoing between them: Why?


    Daln broke the silence, his voice low. “You know, the storm... the Fellstorm… I’ve been thinking about it. It''s no coincidence we’re here. There’s something about that storm that… it feels connected to all of this.” Daln said, his voice low.


    “One minute I was in shelter,” Daln continued, his voice growing more strained. “The next... I woke up here.”


    “I remember the storm, too,” Thalria said, her gaze fixed on the half-eaten meat. “The last thing I remember was sleeping, then…here” she said softly, her voice trailing off.


    A scratchy cough broke their conversation, pulling Thalria’s attention to the side.


    Juno’s hand flew to her mouth as another cough seized her, her small frame wracked with the force of the spasm. Thalria noticed the girl’s eyes, wide and glassy, she was thirsty.


    Thalria walked up to the girl, her voice soft and careful, a gentle tone that sought to reassure. “Sorry, this might be a little weird…but could you open your mouth?”


    Juno blinked, a flicker of confusion crossing her face, her brows furrowed in a silent question. She hesitated for a moment, her gaze darting between Thalria’s face and Daln’s, seeking reassurance. Daln gave a slight nod, just as confused as her.


    That seemed to be enough, as Juno slightly opened her mouth, her eyes still uncertain but willing to trust. Thalria, taking a deep breath, focused her thoughts on water, a mental image of cool, clear liquid forming in her mind.


    She closed her eyes, reaching deep within herself, a journey into the wellspring of her Essentia. With a quiet, deliberate concentration, she willed water itself to form, not simply manipulating existing water, but to create it from nothing. It wasn’t a simple creation. She first had to create the elements—oxygen and hydrogen—before manipulating the forces that would bind them into water.


    Thalria’s mind began to hum with energy, each atom of oxygen and hydrogen appearing in her thoughts like tiny particles floating in the vast, dark void of her mind. She willed them into existence, calling forth the simplest building blocks of the universe, shaping them with her intent. She willed the bonds between them, guiding the atoms closer together, pulling them into alignment. The bonds between oxygen and hydrogen atoms began to form, twisting and reshaping themselves into the familiar structure.


    The creation of fundamental elements took much more energy and time than manipulating something physical, like the stick and stone earlier. It was nothing compared to the delicate work of summoning the very building blocks of the world into existence, a task that demanded precision and focus.


    The water finally took shape, shimmering in the firelight, its surface quivering as if aware of its unnatural creation. It hovered in the air for a moment, catching the light like a captured star, before dropping directly into Juno’s waiting mouth.


    Juno’s eyes widened, her body instinctively drawing back at first, but the cool, refreshing liquid slid down her throat, quenching the dry ache, replacing it with a rush of relief.


    Thalria stood there, her fingers still extended, the trembling of her hand a stark contrast to the calmness she tried to project. Thalria’s heart pounded, each beat reverberating through her chest as if the force of it could fracture her bones.


    Her fingers instinctively curled inwards, the movement sharp and decisive. A wave of dizziness hit her, and before she could stop herself, she dropped to one knee, her breath coming in shallow. She had overexerted herself, pushed herself too far. She had only summoned a cup of water—barely, but it had drained her more than she had expected.


    Juno’s eyes were wide with concern, watching her every move, her face etched with worry. Thalria, as if hearing she could hear the girl’s thoughts, put a hand up and managed a smile, though it wavered slightly “I’m alright, just need a quick second.”


    Taking a slow, deliberate breath, Thalria focused on grounding herself, feeling the cool air on her skin, the earth beneath her. ‘Just a moment,’ she repeated in her mind. ‘Just a moment to breathe. Breathe.’


    The dizziness faded, but the weakness lingered. Thalria knew it would take at least a day before she could properly use Essentia again. She raised her head, meeting the eyes of Daln and Juno.


    Juno’s gaze was filled with a mix of shock and awe, her wide eyes reflecting a sense of wonder. It was probably the first time she ever saw anything like that, a visible miracle.


    Daln, on the other hand, showed no surprise. No awe, just a deep, knowing look. It made sense, Thalria understood. Soldier''s eyes, he had probably seen hundreds, if not thousands, of people like her, wielders of Essentia, chosen for power.


    “You''re chosen.” Daln said, his voice softer now, as if speaking to himself more than Thalria. “Quite an impressive one, at that. I’ve not seen many that can manipulate water with ease, especially from nothing”


    Thalria hesitated, weighering her words, she considered revealing the full extent of her abilities. She could manipulate far more than water. She had the power to will anything into existence, as long as she understood it deeply enough and her will was strong enough, she could create, alter, and even erase. It was a special power, she had quickly realized.


    Essentia was something everyone had the potential to harness, given enough time and dedication. It was the latent energy coursing through every living being—a force waiting to be awakened. But while anyone could learn to use it, only a few manifested unique abilities, the chosen ones, those with a natural affinity.


    Some wielded fire or lightning, their power suited for war, a destructive force that could turn the tide of battle. Others had subtler gifts, like a farmer she once met, Banka, who could accelerate crop growth, turning barren fields fertile in a matter of days.


    But Thalria… she was different.


    Her power had no defined shape, no fixed limits. She could do what others could—summon flame, command water—but she could also do more. That was why she was warned never to reveal her ability, not yet—not until she was ready. If the other Houses knew what she was capable of, she would become a target, a weapon to be wielded, a prize to be captured.


    So she buried the thought, locking it away behind a wall of caution, and met Daln’s gaze. “Water’s useful,” she said, keeping her voice light, dismissive.


    She wouldn’t reveal everything. Not now. But if the time came and she had no other choice—then they would see the truth.