The silence after the battle was suffocating.
Kaelen could still feel the cold weight of those words pressing into his mind—"You are marked."
It wasn't just a threat.
It was a fact.
He had been noticed by something far beyond his understanding.
Something that didn't hate or rage.
Something that simply ended things—as naturally as breathing.
Lyria's hand was firm on his shoulder. "Kaelen, talk to me."
He forced himself to meet her eyes.
"I saw it." His voice came out hoarse.
Lyria frowned. "Saw what?"
Kaelen swallowed hard. "The End."
At those words, Umbra stiffened. Thorne, who had been dusting himself off, froze.
Lyria's expression darkened. "…What did it look like?"
Kaelen shook his head. "It wasn't something I could see. It was just… absence. Like everything was supposed to be gone, and existence itself was the mistake."
Thorne let out a low whistle. "Yeah. That's deeply unpleasant."
Umbra crossed his arms. "And the 'marked' part? What does that mean?"
Kaelen exhaled. "I don't know."
But he could feel it—a strange sensation at the center of his chest. Like a second heartbeat, but colder.
Lyria studied him, her expression unreadable. "We need to get back to the Arcane Keepers."
Kaelen nodded. "Agreed."
The Arcane Keepers—a secretive order of scholars and spellcasters—had been watching over the balance of magic for centuries. If anyone knew about this… thing, it would be them.
But before they could move—
The sky cracked.
A jagged tear split through the heavens, not like lightning, but like glass shattering.
And from it, something stepped through.
Kaelen's blood turned to ice.
The Emissary of the End
It was humanoid in shape, but wrong.
Its body was cloaked in shifting darkness, like it was made from the void itself.
And its face—
It had no face.
Just a vast, empty space, a hole where a face should be.
It didn't speak.
It simply moved.
And with each step, the ground beneath it vanished.
Not burned.
Not destroyed.
Just gone.
Reality itself ceased to exist wherever it walked.
Kaelen's breath caught in his throat.
This thing wasn't a soldier.
It wasn't an enemy to be fought.
It was an announcement.
A messenger of the End.
And it was coming for him.
Thorne drew his sword, the flames flaring wildly. "Okay. I don't know what that is, but I hate it."
Lyria pulled an arrow, her hands steady. "Kaelen?"
Kaelen clenched his fists.
He knew he couldn't fight this thing.
But he wasn't about to just let it take him.
Magic surged around him, golden light crackling at his fingertips.
The Emissary tilted its head, as if studying him.
Then—
It raised a hand.
And Kaelen felt his entire being unravel.
A cold, suffocating sensation wrapped around his soul, pulling him toward nothingness.
The world blurred—
And suddenly, he was somewhere else.
The Void Between Worlds
Kaelen gasped as he found himself standing on nothing.
No sky.
No ground.
Just an endless black abyss stretching in all directions.
He turned—
And the Emissary was there, standing too close.
Its presence was like a crushing weight against his soul.
And then—
It spoke.
Not with sound.
Not with words.
But directly into his mind.
"You are not meant to exist."
Kaelen's breath hitched. "Excuse me?"
The Emissary didn't move.
"You have walked too far. Touched too much. The End has noticed."
Kaelen clenched his fists. "Well, that's not my fault, is it?"
The Emissary tilted its head. "You are an anomaly."
Kaelen's magic flared. "That's a fancy word for 'person who refuses to die.'"
The Emissary didn't react.
"You should not be."
Kaelen gritted his teeth. "Yeah? Well, neither should taxes, and yet here we are."
The void rippled—not from anger, not from emotion, but from something deeper.
Kaelen felt it—an inevitable force, like gravity.
This thing wasn't arguing.
It wasn't threatening him.
It was simply stating a fact.
Like a storm announcing the rain.
Kaelen's muscles tensed.
He didn't know how to fight something like this.
But he wasn't going to just accept it.
His magic blazed—light bursting from his hands, golden energy crackling through the void.
The Emissary simply watched.
Then—
It moved.
And Kaelen's magic shattered.
It was like his very existence flickered, his body phasing in and out of reality.
And in that moment—
He felt himself slipping.
The void was pulling him in.
His soul teetered on the edge of being erased.
And then—
A hand grabbed his wrist.
Kaelen gasped, his vision snapping back.
He turned—
And saw Lyria.
Her eyes burned with determination, her magic clashing against the void itself.
"Not today," she snarled.
With a fierce pull, she yanked him back into reality.
Back to the Battlefield
Kaelen gasped for air, collapsing onto the cracked earth.
The Emissary was still there, its hollow face tilting slightly, as if considering what had just happened.
Then, it turned away.
And in an instant—
It was gone.
Like it had never been there.
Kaelen clutched his chest, his heart racing.
Lyria was crouched beside him, her hands still trembling from the magic surge.
Thorne and Umbra stood nearby, weapons ready—though it was clear they had no idea what had just happened.
Kaelen's breaths came in ragged gasps. "That thing—"
Lyria's grip on his arm tightened. "It almost took you."
Kaelen nodded, swallowing hard. "Yeah."
Umbra's voice was low. "But it didn't."
Thorne huffed. "That's a first."
Kaelen let out a weak laugh. "Yeah. Guess I owe you one, Lyria."
She smirked. "You owe me several."
Kaelen pushed himself up, his legs still shaky.
But even as he stood, he couldn't shake the feeling.
The Emissary hadn't retreated.
It had simply delivered its message.
And he knew, deep in his soul—
This was just the beginning.
TO BE CONTINUED…