Fourth Wing AU's, Headcannons, Oneshots, Etc.

"Afterrealm" Liam is Dead... But Not?

"May your soul be commended to Malek."

Liam awoke, groggy, rising from his position on the floor. He glanced around, scanning the room for threats or intruders. The last thing he remembered was clutching his beloved, dying dragon, Deigh. Speaking of which, where was his red daggertail?

The room was clean white, with speckles of gold flecking the marble. The air had a crisp feeling about it, more cold and medical than a healer's infirmary.

"Violet?" He called, his voice echoing. Where was his best friend? "Xaden? Anyone?"

Standing, he felt his legs grow shaky. Liam's hand went to his pocket, searching for a weapon, only to find it empty. Heart dropping, he narrowed his eyes. In the distance, a dark black cloud could be seen, but what it was he did not know. Was he dead? He must be, but his memory was foggy. And if he was dead, where was Deigh? Sorrow coursed through his veins, he'd never see Sloane grow-up. He'd never complete his training and become an official rider. He'd never be anything more than a cadet.

But the blonde wasn't ready to give up hope quite yet. Perhaps this was all a dream, perhaps there would be a way back.

And if not, perhaps he would see his parents and his dragon again.

With newfound determination, he headed towards the mysterious cloud in the distance, trying to jog his memory. With a start, he realized that it must be Malek.

"May your soul be commended to Malek."

Would he be meeting a God? Would he be accepted into a place with family and friends, or would he end-up traversing this lonely realm mindlessly?

Liam's mind raced as he moved closer to the dark cloud, each step feeling heavier than the last. The landscape around him remained eerily still, as if time itself had frozen. His breath came out in shaky puffs, visible in the cold air. Yet, he didn't feel chilly or the need to shiver.

As he approached the edge of the cloud, it began to shift and swirl, revealing a pathway made of dark, shimmering stones. He pressed on, the thought of seeing his parents, of finding Deigh again, was enough to push him forward.

"Liam Mairi," a deep, voice echoed from within the cloud. It was neither welcoming nor hostile, but it carried a weight that made Liam's heart pound in his chest. It surrounded him. "You stand at the crossroads of life and death."

Liam swallowed hard, forcing himself to stand tall. "I don't understand. Am I dead? Is Deigh...?"

The cloud shifted again, revealing a figure cloaked in black, with eyes that seemed to pierce through to his very soul. "You are neither living nor dead, Liam. Not yet. This is the Afterrealm, a place between worlds. Your fate has yet to be decided."

"Decided by who?" Liam demanded, though his voice betrayed the fear bubbling beneath the surface.

"By Malek," the figure responded, stepping closer. It began taking a vague human form. "By your own will. By the memories that you hold dear, and the choices you make here. Although, chances of you being revived are... slim. You will plead his case to him in fifty days."

Liam's mind raced, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. "What do I have to do?"

"Remember who you are, and what you fight for," the figure said, voice softer now, almost compassionate. "If your will is strong enough, you may find your way back."

Liam clenched his fists, determination hardening in his chest. He couldn't give up—not now, not after everything he'd fought for. "I'll do whatever it takes." But fifty days is going to seem like an eternity with no one but myself. He thought miserably. Although, the challenge may be to plead your case before losing your mind.

"How many people have been revived? Who are you?" He has so many questions.

"Four people have been revived. I am a servant of Malek."

"Where is my dragon?"

"She exists in a different realm than this one."

"My parents?"

"I do not know. You will have to find out for yourself, when you manage your way to the final place."

"Wait, wait where are you going? Those answers aren't good enough!" He shouted as the figure began to disappear.

And suddenly, everything began to feel hopeless.

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Word Count: 703

Thanks for reading! This took a different turn then what I expected, actually, lol. I hope you enjoy. Fear not there will be a part 2 and probably a part 3 and (maybe) 4 too.