Beyond The Fallen

princess

Her delicate fingers trembled as she clutched the hilt of her sword, the cold metal biting into her flesh. The wind howled like a pack of starving wolves, tearing at her silken garments and exposing layers of smooth skin to the elements. Teresa gritted her teeth, squinting through rebellious strands that plastered themselves to her face, a futile attempt at shielding her from the biting chill. It was as if the very mountains themselves conspired against her.

Aresa could vividly recall the manor, with its tapestries and banners swaying in time to a tune neither she nor anyone else could comprehend. She had always despised those silken banners, their indigo hue a reminder of her royal blood—of expectations she knew she could never fully meet.

Born into House Terra, one of the most powerful and influential among the many kingdoms, her every feature was a testament to her divine ancestry. Bright eyes that seemed to glow from within, skin smooth and clear as crystal. She was even more striking than most of her royal peers, a fact she'd taken pride in once. But pride meant nothing now, in the face of death.

Her fingers inched towards the locket dangling from a fine chain around her neck—their family crest emblazoned in silver it was a hollow gesture, she knew. Calling upon her spirit would be futile; she was untalented, a failure even before she'd set foot on these accursed mountains. Father would be ashamed if he saw her cowering. She shuddered at the thought.

The spirit before her seemed to mock her with its silent presence, a shadow stretching across the dying blaze of her courage. It was an ill-defined mass, lurching and twisted in all the wrong ways. Its face was gone—just more shadow, more mist gathering at its neck, whispering in a voice only the wind could hear.

Its eyes, twin orbs of chilling light without irises or pupils, pinned her in place. They seemed loaded with optics she couldn't fathom—accusation, scorn, perhaps even a hint of curiosity. She felt violated to her core.

Rage boiled inside her. How dare this thing look at her with such condescension, such disdain? She was Aresa of House Terra, heir to the great technological marvels crafted by countless generations. She was—

Her thought froze, evaporating under the creature's implacable gaze. She was living on borrowed time. She knew this. The test—it was meant to be so wretched, so cruel, so unforgiving. Those who survived would return to their homelands as men and women reborn.

Those who did not...well. Aresa clenched her jaw, setting her stance, her sword a whisper in the gloom. She would not be another statistic. She would not be some lesson to be told around the hearths. Today, she would fight. Today, she would embrace her divinity.

The spirit lunged, spectral claws dug into the snow, its shadowed form hurtling towards her. The world seemed to expand in slow motion, everything sharpening to minute detail. The bitter cold, the burning in her lungs, the white-hot fury building in her chest.

She lunged in turn, Antonio Terra's teachings guiding her pose. Stone to Flame. So powerful, so perfect. The sword sliced through misty midair, connecting with a skeletal spine, a substance not quite flesh splitting under its length.

Tendrils of energy, thick globs of mist, erupted from the wound, cascading over her sword, down her arm, into her bones. The wave of emotion was intense as if she'd drunk pure adrenaline and honey at once. Adera seemed to cackle silently, power surging and receding in time with her heartbeat.

Something akin to triumph stirred in her chest, short-lived as the spirit-specter spun, a phantom snarl rippling through its form. Aresa danced back, heart pounding, willing muscles to relax, little by little. She'd scored a hit, but the beast was not vanquished. Not yet.

Anticipation prickled the hairs along the nape of her neck, an electric shiver making its way down her spine. Aresa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Yes. This was the moment. Here, now, in the face of death itself, she would forge a new legacy for House Terra. If she managed to survive.

Two points of light glowed in the fading gloom, one white and swirling, one gleaming and determined. The dance would continue. It had only just begun.