The Hunt<\/h2>\n
The Shattered Wastes were a pale expanse of broken dunes and jagged obsidian cliffs, lit only by cruel twin moons in an otherwise starless sky. Sorian moved swiftly, his boots silent against the infertile ground. The same dragonhide armor he had worn at the Masque now bore faint bloodstains and ash from days of relentless travel. Overhead, the sound of distant predators\u2014phantom raptors or worse\u2014reminded him that even the air in this cursed land could kill.<\/p>\n
A trail had been carefully laid and obscured. Yet to Sorian\u2019s trained eye, the broken lines of shifted stone and a faint pattern of footprints told a different story: Darvyn was toying with him. Leading him, no doubt, into the jaws of some carefully engineered trap.<\/p>\n
The Revelation<\/h3>\n
It wasn\u2019t a trap, though. At least, not the kind Sorian expected.<\/p>\n
When he finally found Darvyn, perched atop a high hive of craggy stone, the older man wore an expression of grim determination and sorrow. The years had weathered his once-imposing frame, leaving a wiry hardness to his posture. His robes, once marked with the Circle\u2019s sigils, were tattered but still bore their iconic teal and gold hues.<\/p>\n
\u201cYou shouldn\u2019t have come, Sorian,\u201d Darvyn called, his voice wavering slightly but no less sharp. \u201cThis is bigger than you, than me, than any of them.\"<\/p>\n
\u201cBetrayal is never bigger than the blood spilled because of it,\u201d Sorian shot back, drawing his dagger\u2014a slim, gleaming shard etched with primal glyphs. Its edge seemed impossibly thin, sharp enough to sever not just flesh but spirit.<\/p>\n
Darvyn raised a hand, not to summon magic but as if to plead. \u201cYou don\u2019t understand. The Circle\u2014they command power, but they\u2019ve lost their way. I found something, Sorian. Something ancient. Something...\"<\/p>\n
\u201c...You stole something,\u201d Sorian cut him off, closing the gap between them slowly. \u201cWhat was it worth, Darvyn? What could\u2014for all the realms\u2019 gold\u2014drive you to this?\u201d<\/p>\n
The older man\u2019s expression darkened, and he reached into the satchel slung across his back. From its depths, he produced a star-shaped crystal pulsating with a pale, otherworldly light.<\/p>\n
\"This,\" Darvyn whispered. \"This has the power to unmake<\/em> everything. The Circle seeks to hoard it, to use it, to destroy entire worlds to maintain their control.\u201d He looked directly into Sorian\u2019s eyes. \u201cThey sent you, the man I trusted most, because they\u2019re afraid of the truth.\"<\/p>\n Sorian stood frozen, torn between duty and the weight of Darvyn\u2019s words. He had not survived the dark underbelly of the realms this long by being a pawn. Conflicting currents crashed through his mind as Darvyn thrust the crystal toward him, desperation etched into every line of his tired face.<\/p>\n \u201cYou have to see it, Sorian. It\u2019s not betrayal if it saves more than it destroys.\u201d<\/p>\n The dagger in Sorian\u2019s hand wavered. Memories flooded back: Darvyn teaching him to fight, to survive, to question everything. Then came the faces of the people he had eliminated on the Circle\u2019s orders\u2014the innocents, the liars, the guilty and the blameless.<\/p>\n Could this be a step too far? Was redemption not for the lost at all?<\/p>\n The Source<\/strong>...check out the great article that inspired this amazing short story: The Golden Rule is Misleading Garbage Advice for Marriage!<\/a><\/p>\nAn Impossible Choice<\/h3>\n
Genre: Dark Fantasy\/Thriller<\/h2>\n
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