Shadowborn

chapter 1: The Eclipse

Rowan sat cross-legged on his bedroom floor, staring out at the garden. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating the small, cluttered space that felt more like a sanctuary than a room. His walls were adorned with posters of old movies, and books lay scattered about, remnants of his escape from reality. But it was the view outside that captured his attention.

His family had always kept a tidy garden, but today, it felt different. The flowers swayed gently in the breeze, their colors vibrant against the backdrop of a cloudless sky. Rowan’s heart raced as he leaned closer to the window. Today was the day of the eclipse—an event that filled the townsfolk with dread and curiosity. They had warned about the dangers, tales of madness and shadows that danced in the dark.

Rowan had never been one to shy away from the unknown. As the clock ticked closer to the hour, he felt a pull, a need to witness the celestial event for himself. He rose from the floor, a mix of excitement and defiance coursing through him. Pushing open the window, he stepped out onto the porch, his heart racing in sync with the shadows growing across the land.

As he leaned against the railing, he watched the sun begin to disappear, replaced by the moon’s dark silhouette. The beauty of it all was breathtaking. But as the world around him dimmed, a strange sensation crept over him—like a whisper, urging him to look deeper. Just as he took a step forward, the world tilted. He stumbled, falling backward, and darkness engulfed him.

Five Years Later...

Sky sat at her desk, the room dimly lit by the waning afternoon light. It was a small, cramped space filled with sketches, crumpled papers, and art supplies scattered haphazardly. She thrived in this chaos, finding comfort in her solitude. The outside world felt overwhelming; the noise, the expectations, the people—it all suffocated her.

She hated school, hated the forced interactions, and the incessant chatter of classmates who couldn’t possibly understand her. To them, she was just a quiet girl in the corner, invisible. But in her art, she could express everything she felt—her frustrations, her fears, her dreams.

Today, however, was different. As the eclipse approached, an unease settled in her stomach. She had heard the whispers, the old stories that accompanied the phenomenon. But instead of fear, she felt an inexplicable pull, a curiosity that drove her to explore the woods behind her house.

Gathering her sketchbook and pencil, Sky slipped out of her room, moving quietly through the house. She stepped into the crisp air, the sun's warmth lingering before the eclipse cast everything into shadow. The woods were her sanctuary, a place where she could escape the chaos of life.

As she wandered deeper into the trees, she found a familiar spot—a secluded glade where she often came to draw. The gentle rustling of leaves above calmed her racing heart. She settled beneath a towering oak, its branches offering protection like an old friend. As she began to sketch, the darkness began to creep in, and she felt it—the world shifting around her.

The sky darkened, the sun slipping away as the moon took its place. Sky’s heart raced, not from fear, but from a sense of awakening. She looked up, captivated by the sight above her. The eclipse was mesmerizing, a dance of light and shadow that felt almost alive.

She had never believed the stories—never thought anything bad could happen. But as she focused on the eclipse, the air around her thickened. A feeling of dread washed over her, whispering that she was not alone. And before she could comprehend what was happening, she felt the ground shift beneath her.

Suddenly, she lost her footing, tripping over a gnarled root hidden in the underbrush. As she fell, darkness enveloped her, pulling her into its depths. In that instant, she felt as if she were being drawn into a different world, one that was waiting just beyond her reach.