《Oblivion’s Chosen》


 The Abyss Beckons

    Chapter 1: The Abyss Beckons


    The sky above Arvellis twisted into a maelstrom of colors¡ªswirling violet, indigo, and black. It was as though the heavens were being torn apart. Rain fell in relentless torrents, icy and sharp, as it hammered the cracked stone streets. The buildings¡ªonce proud¡ªstood hunched and battered, like ancient beasts slowly being devoured by decay. Arvellis was dying, and everyone knew it.


    Inside a rundown inn on the city¡¯s outskirts, a lone figure sat in a shadowy corner. His name was Arlan Hallow, and despite his unassuming appearance, there was something about him that made people keep their distance. His dark hair clung to his forehead, wet from both the storm and the sweat of sleepless nights. His stormy blue eyes, hooded with exhaustion, stared into the murky cup of water before him.


    The inn was filled with the low hum of hushed conversations and the occasional clink of tankards, but to Arlan, it all felt distant¡ªlike a world just beyond his reach. He wasn¡¯t one to stand out in a crowd. He was lean but not frail, with a face that could blend in almost anywhere. Yet, there was a tension in the way he held himself¡ªlike a spring coiled too tight, ready to snap at any moment.


    For days, Arlan had been waiting. He knew this quiet would soon end.


    His eyes flicked to the door as it creaked open, spilling rain and cold into the inn. A figure stepped through¡ªclad in a thick, black cloak with the hood pulled low. The stranger moved with a deliberate slowness, like they were in no rush at all. Conversations died, and the room seemed to shrink as the air grew cold. Even the innkeeper, a burly man who had seen his share of danger, took a step back.


    The figure¡¯s presence felt like a weight on the room, bending the very light around them.


    They walked directly to Arlan¡¯s table and stopped, their face obscured by shadow. A low, raspy voice escaped the hood.


    ¡°You are Arlan Hallow?¡±


    The sound of the stranger¡¯s voice was like glass being ground beneath iron¡ªa brittle, sharp sound that cut through the silence.


    Arlan¡¯s grip tightened around his cup, though his expression remained calm. He had been expecting this for days¡ªever since he had found it.


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    ¡°I am,¡± Arlan said simply, his voice calm, despite the fear clawing at his chest.


    The figure reached inside their cloak and produced a small object¡ªa coin. But it wasn¡¯t just any coin. It shimmered faintly with a light that seemed unnatural, as though it didn¡¯t belong to this world. It was engraved with an ancient symbol: an eye, surrounded by seven interlocking rings. The air around the coin felt heavy, oppressive.


    ¡°This is yours now,¡± the figure said, placing the coin on the table. The metal clinked softly, but the sound lingered unnaturally in the air, as though reality itself took note of its arrival.


    Arlan stared at the coin, his heart racing. He had heard whispers¡ªstories about objects like this, artifacts of great power linked to forces that no one could fully comprehend. But he had never imagined he would hold one.


    ¡°Why?¡± Arlan¡¯s voice was quiet, almost drowned out by the sound of the rain. ¡°Why me?¡±


    The figure remained silent for a moment, then leaned forward, the faint glow of pale eyes visible beneath the hood.


    ¡°The Abyss has chosen you,¡± the figure replied, their voice barely above a whisper. ¡°And once the Abyss chooses, there is no turning back.¡±


    Arlan felt a chill crawl up his spine. The Abyss. He had heard the stories. It wasn¡¯t just a place¡ªit was a force, a will that devoured everything in its path. Legends spoke of entire civilizations lost to its hunger, of gods and monsters trapped in its endless void. It was madness given form.


    ¡°I didn¡¯t ask for this,¡± Arlan said, the tension in his voice breaking through. ¡°I don¡¯t want it.¡±


    The figure¡¯s glowing eyes flickered, almost as though amused.


    ¡°Your desires are irrelevant. The Abyss calls, and you will answer.¡±


    They straightened, their shadow looming over him like a specter of death. ¡°When the door opens, you will have a choice¡ªenter willingly, or be dragged in.¡±


    Arlan¡¯s fingers trembled as they hovered over the coin, which pulsed faintly in his palm. It was warm, as though it had a heartbeat of its own. The weight of the decision pressed on his chest like a vice.


    ¡°And what¡¯s inside the Abyss?¡± Arlan asked, his voice barely a whisper.


    ¡°Everything,¡± the figure said, their voice low and cryptic. ¡°And nothing. The Abyss is not a place. It is the beginning and the end. A hunger without limits.¡±


    Arlan¡¯s thoughts raced. He had lived his life on the edge¡ªsurviving by wit and skill, scraping by in the underbelly of Arvellis. But this? This was beyond anything he could have imagined. He had no power, no family, nothing to fight this with. How could he face something like the Abyss?


    The figure turned, their cloak swirling like a living shadow. ¡°Prepare yourself, Arlan Hallow. The Abyss waits for no one.¡±


    And with that, they disappeared into the night, the door creaking shut behind them.


    For a long time, Arlan sat there, staring at the coin in his hand. The air felt heavy, thick with something he couldn¡¯t name.


    Then the ground beneath him rumbled¡ªa low, deep vibration that made the glass on his table tremble. The patrons in the inn murmured in confusion, but Arlan¡¯s attention was elsewhere. His eyes widened as he saw it¡ªa tear in the very air itself, jagged and raw, like a wound in reality.


    From the tear, darkness spilled out, writhing and coiling like living smoke.


    The door to the Abyss had opened.


    For a moment, Arlan froze. Fear gripped him, the primal instinct to run screaming in his head. But he didn¡¯t move. He couldn¡¯t. His fate had been sealed the moment he touched the coin.


    The Abyss had chosen him.


    Arlan stood, slipping the coin into his pocket. He cast one last glance at the tear, where darkness beckoned him forward. His heart pounded in his chest, but he steeled himself.


    With a deep breath, he stepped into the Abyss.


    ---


    End of Chapter 1

 The Mark of the Abyss

    Chapter 2: The Mark of the Abyss


    Arlan Hallow sat in the corner of the dimly lit tavern, the cold drink in his hand doing little to calm his racing thoughts. His fingers absently traced the outline of the strange coin in his pocket¡ªthe same coin that had haunted his dreams and dragged him to the edge of the Abyss the night before. Every time he thought about it, the same sensation crawled over his skin: something ancient and unseen watching him from the shadows.


    The tavern bustled around him, the sounds of clinking mugs, hushed conversations, and the occasional bark of laughter filling the air. It should have felt normal, comforting even. This was his world¡ªthe seedy, grimy underbelly of Arvellis where no one asked questions, and everyone kept their heads down. But tonight, everything felt off, as if the very air had shifted since he¡¯d taken that coin.


    "You¡¯re distracted," came a low, raspy voice from across the table.


    Arlan looked up to see Fenn, his long-time partner-in-crime, eyeing him suspiciously. Fenn¡¯s wiry frame was draped in a cloak, his scarred face barely visible under the hood. Despite the man¡¯s rough appearance, his eyes gleamed with the sharpness of a predator constantly searching for weakness.


    "Just tired," Arlan muttered, taking a swig from his drink. "Didn¡¯t sleep much last night."


    "Right," Fenn said slowly, clearly unconvinced. He leaned in closer, lowering his voice. "Look, whatever you got yourself into, you better come clean now. I don¡¯t like the way you¡¯ve been acting. You¡¯ve been jumpy ever since you met that cloaked guy."


    Arlan tensed, his hand tightening around his mug. He didn¡¯t want to talk about it¡ªabout the coin, the dreams, or the void that felt like it was creeping into his very soul. But Fenn wasn¡¯t someone you could easily dodge. The man had a way of sniffing out secrets.


    Before Arlan could respond, the tavern door slammed open, and a gust of cold wind swept inside. Every head in the room turned as a group of men entered, their faces hidden beneath dark hoods. There was something off about them¡ªsomething that set Arlan¡¯s instincts on edge. The room seemed to quiet, the atmosphere shifting with an almost palpable tension.


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    Fenn cursed under his breath. "Shit, those aren¡¯t city guards. They¡¯re too quiet."


    Arlan¡¯s gaze remained fixed on the newcomers. They moved with a purpose, their eyes scanning the room like wolves searching for prey. One of them¡ªa tall figure with a thick, jagged scar running down his face¡ªlocked eyes with Arlan. His lips curled into a cold, humorless smile.


    Arlan¡¯s stomach dropped.


    The man stepped forward, his voice a deep, commanding growl. "You, Arlan Hallow. Come with us. We know what you carry."


    Arlan¡¯s hand instinctively reached for the coin in his pocket, as if it could somehow protect him. His pulse quickened. He didn¡¯t know who these men were or how they knew about the coin, but it was clear they weren¡¯t here to have a friendly chat.


    Fenn¡¯s hand moved to the dagger at his side, his posture tense. "I don¡¯t know who you are, but if you think we¡¯re gonna¡ª"


    Before Fenn could finish, the scarred man made a subtle gesture, and the hooded figures moved like lightning. In an instant, two of them were at Fenn¡¯s side, grabbing him by the arms and slamming him into the table. The force knocked the air out of his lungs, and Fenn¡¯s dagger clattered uselessly to the floor.


    Arlan shot to his feet, but another figure was already in front of him, a blade pressed lightly against his throat.


    "Don¡¯t be stupid," the scarred man said, his smile never fading. "We¡¯re not here to kill you. Not yet, anyway."


    Arlan¡¯s heart pounded in his chest, his mind racing for options. He could fight, but these men moved like trained assassins. Even if he somehow managed to take one down, the others would cut him down before he could blink.


    "What do you want?" Arlan asked, his voice hoarse.


    The scarred man stepped closer, his eyes gleaming with dark amusement. "It¡¯s not about what we want. It¡¯s about what the Abyss wants. And right now, it wants you."


    The coin in Arlan¡¯s pocket seemed to burn against his skin, its presence heavier than ever. The Abyss. He had heard the whispers in his dreams, felt the pull of the void. But now, the reality of it was crashing down on him like a tidal wave.


    "You¡¯re marked," the man continued, his voice lowering to a whisper. "Chosen by forces older than this world. You belong to the Abyss now."


    Arlan¡¯s blood ran cold. The words felt final, like a sentence passed down from some unseen judge. He didn¡¯t know what it meant to be "chosen" by the Abyss, but he knew it wasn¡¯t something he could escape.


    The scarred man stepped back, gesturing for his men to release Fenn. The hooded figures moved with eerie precision, falling back into formation like they hadn¡¯t just subdued two seasoned criminals with ease.


    "Come with us," the man said. "We¡¯ll take you to someone who can explain what¡¯s happening to you. Or¡­ you can stay here, and let the Abyss claim you on its own terms."


    Arlan¡¯s hand clenched into a fist. Every instinct screamed at him to run, to fight, to do anything but go with these people. But deep down, he knew the scarred man was right. The Abyss was coming for him, whether he wanted it or not.


    With a heavy breath, Arlan met the man¡¯s gaze. "Where are we going?"


    The scarred man smiled again, a look of satisfaction crossing his face. "To the heart of the Abyss. Where all the chosen go."


    ---


    As they led Arlan out of the tavern and into the cold night, the whispers in his mind grew louder, more insistent. He was walking toward something he couldn¡¯t understand, something far beyond his control. But one thingwas clear: there was no turning back now.


    End of Chapter 2

 Into the Abyss

    Chapter 3: Into the Abyss


    The journey through the winding streets of Arvellis felt longer than it should have. The city¡¯s decaying alleys, once familiar to Arlan, seemed to twist into unrecognizable shapes under the cover of night. Every shadow felt alive, every flicker of torchlight cast strange shapes on the cobblestones. The group moved in silence, with the hooded figures flanking him on all sides like a procession of death.


    Arlan¡¯s mind raced. He had no idea where they were taking him, and every step only heightened his sense of dread. His hand remained wrapped around the coin in his pocket, as if holding it might offer some sort of protection. But the metal was cold and unyielding, offering no comfort. If anything, it felt heavier, as though it pulsed with the same dark energy that had infected his dreams.


    After what felt like an eternity, they arrived at an ancient-looking building near the city¡¯s edge. Its walls were made of dark stone, covered in creeping vines, and its towering, iron-bound doors loomed ominously. This part of the city was practically abandoned, a place where no one dared to live unless they had no other choice. The sight of it sent a shiver down Arlan¡¯s spine.


    The scarred man at the head of the group, who Arlan had come to think of as their leader, motioned for the others to halt.


    ¡°This is where we part ways,¡± he said, his voice devoid of the smug amusement he¡¯d shown earlier. ¡°Beyond those doors, you¡¯ll find answers. Or you¡¯ll find madness. It all depends on how strong you are.¡±


    Arlan swallowed, trying to fight the growing sense of fear gnawing at his gut. ¡°What¡¯s inside?¡±


    The man¡¯s smile returned, this time smaller, almost pitying. ¡°The Abyss doesn¡¯t reveal its secrets easily. But it has chosen you for a reason. Go. And remember, the void is always watching.¡±


    Without another word, the hooded figures began to disperse, melting into the shadows as quickly as they¡¯d appeared. The scarred man lingered for a moment longer, his eyes locked on Arlan¡¯s. Then, with a slight nod, he too disappeared into the night.


    Now alone, Arlan turned to face the massive doors. They seemed impossibly tall, carved with strange symbols that looked ancient and unsettling. He didn¡¯t recognize the language, but something deep within him stirred as he stared at the runes. They seemed to pulse faintly, like they were alive, aware of his presence.


    With a deep breath, Arlan stepped forward and pushed the doors open.


    ---


    Inside, the air was thick and stifling, the oppressive silence broken only by the faint sound of dripping water. The hallway stretched out before him, dimly lit by flickering sconces along the walls. As he walked deeper into the building, the sense of being watched intensified. It wasn¡¯t the eyes of another person, but rather something unseen, something ancient that pressed down on him from every direction.


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    The walls themselves seemed to close in as he moved forward. The shadows flickered and danced at the edges of his vision, but when he turned to look, there was nothing there. His heart raced, and his instincts screamed at him to turn back, but the pull of the Abyss was stronger. It beckoned him, whispering in the dark corners of his mind.


    Finally, the hallway opened into a vast chamber, the ceiling lost in shadow. At the center of the room was a large, circular platform made of smooth, black stone. Surrounding the platform were tall pillars inscribed with more of the same strange symbols from the doors outside.


    As Arlan approached the platform, the whispers grew louder, more insistent. His hand tightened around the coin as he stepped onto the cold stone. The moment his foot touched the platform, the entire room seemed to shift. The pillars pulsed with a dark energy, and the shadows in the corners of the room began to stir, slowly creeping toward him.


    Before he could react, a voice¡ªlow, cold, and ancient¡ªechoed through the chamber.


    "Welcome, Chosen."


    Arlan froze, his blood turning to ice. The voice was like nothing he had ever heard. It wasn¡¯t just a sound; it felt like a presence, something vast and incomprehensible pressing against his mind.


    The shadows continued to move, swirling around the edges of the room like living tendrils. Slowly, they began to take shape, forming into figures¡ªhumanoid, but twisted, with elongated limbs and eyeless faces. Their movements were unnatural, jerky, as though they were mere puppets controlled by something unseen.


    "Who are you?" Arlan managed to choke out, his voice barely more than a whisper.


    The figures stopped, their eyeless faces turning toward him in unison. The air grew colder, and the voice returned, its tone filled with dark amusement.


    "We are the Abyss. And you, Arlan Hallow, are bound to us."


    The coin in his pocket flared with heat, and Arlan gasped, clutching at it instinctively. The pain was sharp, but it was the images that flooded his mind that nearly drove him to his knees. Visions of endless voids, ancient cities crumbling into darkness, and figures¡ªpowerful, monstrous beings¡ªstaring down at him from beyond the veil of reality.


    "You carry the mark," the voice continued, its words resonating inside his skull. "The coin is a key. A key to power beyond your understanding. But power comes with a price."


    Arlan struggled to steady his breathing, the weight of the voice crushing down on him. "What... what do you want from me?"


    The figures moved closer, their twisted forms circling the platform like predators waiting to strike. The voice grew softer, almost a whisper.


    "The Abyss does not ask for obedience, Arlan Hallow. It asks for acceptance. The void calls to you. It offers you a choice¡ªembrace it, and wield the power to reshape the world. Deny it, and it will consume you."


    Arlan¡¯s heart pounded in his chest. The choice laid before him was a nightmare. The Abyss was offering him unimaginable power, but at what cost? He could feel its darkness tugging at the edges of his soul, tempting him with whispers of strength, of control. But there was also something else¡ªan undercurrent of hunger, of madness, waiting to devour him if he strayed too far.


    "I don¡¯t want this," he muttered, shaking his head. "I didn¡¯t ask for any of this."


    The shadows surged, closing in around him. The voice grew harsh, impatient.


    "Want? You were chosen. You cannot escape what has already been set in motion. The Abyss is eternal, and it will have you, one way or another."


    Arlan staggered back, his mind reeling. The room seemed to spin, the shadows pressing closer and closer. His body felt like it was being pulled apart, like the void itself was tearing at the very fabric of his being.


    "Choose, Arlan Hallow," the voice demanded, its tone now filled with cold fury. "Will you wield the power of the Abyss? Or will you be consumed by it?"


    For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Arlan stood at the edge of an impossible decision, the weight of the Abyss bearing down on him. He could feel the coin burning in his hand, pulsing with a dark, malevolent energy. The choice was his, but whatever path he chose, he knew there would be no turning back.


    With a deep breath, Arlan closed his eyes and whispered:


    "I choose..."


    ---


    End of Chapter 3

 A Choice Made in Darkness

    Chapter 4: A Choice Made in Darkness


    "...I choose."


    The words left Arlan¡¯s lips before he even understood their full weight. For a heartbeat, there was nothing but silence, a pregnant stillness that filled the chamber. The swirling shadows around him halted, as if the entire world held its breath, waiting for his next move.


    Then, the voice of the Abyss returned, cold and ancient, reverberating through the chamber.


    "You have chosen well."


    The coin in Arlan¡¯s hand flared with unbearable heat, and for a split second, it felt like it was burning through his flesh. He cried out, dropping the coin to the floor, where it clattered loudly, the sound echoing through the vast chamber. But the moment it left his hand, something began to change inside him.


    The dark tendrils of shadow that had been circling the room surged toward him, moving like liquid smoke. Before he could react, they wrapped around his body, curling tightly around his arms, legs, and chest. It wasn¡¯t painful¡ªnot at first¡ªbut the sensation of the shadows crawling over his skin made his heart race. His breath came in short, panicked gasps as the darkness crept over him, invading his senses. His vision blurred, and the world around him seemed to melt away, leaving only the void.


    For a terrifying moment, he was no longer standing on solid ground. He was suspended in an endless black expanse, floating weightlessly as if caught in a deep, dreamless sleep. The shadows whispered in his ear, soft but insistent, filling his mind with incomprehensible words, images, and thoughts.


    "You are one with the Abyss," the voice whispered, closer now. "The void flows through you. The power you sought is now yours."


    Arlan¡¯s heart pounded in his chest. He could feel the Abyss inside him, a raw, primal force that pulsed with dark energy. It felt like a second heartbeat, a constant presence gnawing at the edges of his mind. The power was overwhelming, and for a brief moment, he wondered if he¡¯d made a terrible mistake.


    But as the tendrils of shadow began to recede, Arlan found himself standing back in the chamber. The platform beneath his feet was solid again, and the tall pillars still loomed over him. The shadows no longer circled him like predators, but instead hovered at the edge of his vision, ever-present but subdued. He felt... different. Stronger. More aware.


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    His eyes snapped down to the coin, which now lay on the platform, its once dull surface glowing faintly with a dark, ethereal light. The runes etched into its surface seemed to shimmer, alive with the same energy that now coursed through his veins.


    Arlan bent down, hesitantly picking up the coin. This time, it felt different in his hand. The overwhelming heat was gone, replaced by a strange sense of connection. The coin was no longer just an object; it was a part of him now, a link to the power of the Abyss that he couldn¡¯t deny.


    The voice of the Abyss spoke once more, but this time, it felt like it was inside his mind, no longer bound to the shadows around him.


    "You have taken your first step. The power of the void flows through you now, but it is only a fraction of what lies ahead. You will face trials, Arlan Hallow. And with each one, you will grow stronger. Or you will fall, consumed by the very power you now wield."


    Arlan closed his eyes, steadying his breathing. He didn¡¯t ask for this power, but now that he had it, he couldn¡¯t turn back. The Abyss had claimed him, but maybe¡ªjust maybe¡ªhe could use its strength to carve his own path. He would learn to control it, to bend it to his will.


    He had to.


    ---


    As Arlan made his way back out of the ancient building and into the night air, the cold wind hit his face, grounding him in reality once again. The streets of Arvellis were quiet, unusually so. Even the usual patrols of guards were nowhere to be seen, and the distant hum of the city¡¯s nightlife felt muffled.


    Fenn was waiting for him, leaning against a nearby wall, his eyes narrowing as Arlan approached. "You look like you¡¯ve seen a ghost."


    Arlan shook his head, his hand instinctively going to the coin in his pocket. "It¡¯s... worse than that."


    Fenn straightened, his expression shifting from suspicion to genuine concern. "What happened in there?"


    Arlan hesitated. How could he explain what he had just experienced? The connection to the Abyss, the power that now surged through his veins¡ªit was too much, too strange to put into words. And he wasn¡¯t even sure Fenn would believe him.


    "It doesn¡¯t matter," Arlan said after a moment, his voice low. "We need to leave. Now."


    Fenn raised an eyebrow, but didn¡¯t argue. He could see the change in Arlan¡ªsomething deeper than fear had taken root. "Alright, where are we headed?"


    "I don¡¯t know," Arlan admitted. "But the Abyss isn¡¯t done with me yet."


    Fenn¡¯s face darkened. "The Abyss... That¡¯s not something you mess with, Arlan."


    "I know." Arlan¡¯s grip tightened around the coin. "But I don¡¯t have a choice anymore."


    They moved quickly through the narrow streets of Arvellis, sticking to the shadows as they made their way back toward the heart of the city. Arlan could feel the power of the Abyss pulsing beneath the surface, like a river of dark energy waiting to be unleashed. But with that power came a creeping sense of dread, a constant reminder that the void was always watching, always waiting.


    As they walked, the streets around them began to shift. It was subtle at first¡ªflickering lanterns, the distant sound of footsteps echoing where there should have been none. But soon, the air itself grew thick with an unnatural stillness, and Arlan realized that they were no longer alone.


    Fenn stopped, his hand going to his dagger. "We¡¯ve got company."


    From the shadows, figures emerged¡ªcloaked in darkness, their eyes glowing faintly with an unnatural light. They moved silently, their steps almost soundless against the cobblestone streets. Arlan recognized them immediately.


    More of the Abyss¡¯ servants.


    "You¡¯re not ready," the voice of the Abyss whispered in his mind, cold and unfeeling. "But they will test you nonetheless. Survive, and you will grow. Fail, and you will be consumed."


    Arlan¡¯s heart pounded in his chest as the figures closed in. He could feel the darkness stirring inside him, begging to be released. His hand trembled as he reached for the coin in his pocket, the connection between him and the Abyss growing stronger with every passing second.


    The figures drew closer, their eyes locked on him. There was no escape, no way to outrun what was coming.


    Arlan took a deep breath and stepped forward, the power of the void surging through him.


    ---


    End of Chapter 4