Shadows of Stars |Wielder Chronicles Book I|

Written in Stars // Zell // Part One

All parts of Zell's short stories take place during the time of the Great War.

The night was dark, but the shadows were darker.

As Zell entered the skirts of the Nix Forest, the trees seemed to whisper to him, their darkened boughs reaching for him. His leg throbbed with each step he took, the searing pain spreading farther and farther.

The battle raged on without him in the distance, screams and roars ripping through the crisp night air. He'd still be there if it weren't for the draekon that latched its jaw onto his thigh. The Star Child that controlled the shadow-bred creature was killed by Zell's hand, but the attack still took its toll.

As the draekon's poison still ran through his veins, his excelled healing was halted. By now, a wound such as this would have been mostly healed, only leaving dried blood in its place, but instead his flesh remained marred and stung like hell. As long as the venom lingered, he was nothing more than a pitiful human.

Zell stumbled as the world tilted. The tree branches morphed into arms, stretching their clawed fingers towards him. The ground below him turned to mud, the soles of his boots sinking into it. He pulled his hand away from the wound on his leg to reach for something, anything, as the mud rose up to his ankles.

Shadows swam in the corners of his vision. They taunted him, dark wisps edging towards him as if to help him out of the sinking mud. Each time his fingers brushed against their velvety mist, they pulled away, making him step deeper into the muck.

Zell yanked at his wounded leg as half of it disappeared, buried beneath him. But the more he moved, the further he sank. What was the point of struggling? What did he even have to go back to if he somehow pulled himself out of the mud?

Violence. Blood. Hatred.

That was all he knew. After so many years of slaughter, the memories of it all blurred together in his mind. He didn't care who he killed. He didn't care about their name, their families, or what they might mean to someone else. All he cared about were his orders given by the Father, his father. Zell didn't want to see the look on his face when he found out he had abandoned the battle for a flesh wound.

But once again what was the point of him carrying on? To kill more Star Children? To spill more human blood? There could be more than rage and darkness out there. There had to be more.

Then, as if on cue, a light streamed through the shadows, its beam falling onto him. It shone brighter, creating an aura that made the creeping shadows hiss before sliding back to the trees.

A woman emerged in front of Zell, the light surrounding her like an orb. Her golden hair billowed behind her, whipping side to side even though there was no breeze. Her delicate brow turned down as her eyes gazed at him, the blue of her eyes piercing him. She reached out her hand to him, concern filling her features.

"You're hurt," she said, and her voice was like a song. It was like silk, soft and smooth, comforting him, making him forget about his searing wound and the mud that was up to his knees.

"Are—are," he stuttered as he gazed up at her. "Are you a Star?"

She blinked, her head cocking to the side as his vision turned black.

☆ ☆ ☆

He awoke to a fire warming his face. He jolted upright, his sweat-soaked hair sticking to his face as he whipped from left to right.

"Ah, you're awake," the Star's voice echoed through the trees.

He looked around again to find her emerging from the side of a tree, a bundle of sticks in her arms. The light that had encompassed her before was gone, but she still exuded it from the graceful way she moved to the angelic lilt in her voice.