Torn Between Destinies-Chapter 45 - Forty Five

The deeper I went, the more the forest changed.

It wasn’t just the trees—though they grew taller, darker, their bark gnarled like wrinkled skin. It wasn’t the silence—though that too thickened, muffling my breath and the crunch of twigs beneath my boots. It was something else. A weight. A pull behind my ribs.

As if I were walking into the belly of something ancient.

The Vale of Ancients.

I didn’t know when I crossed the threshold. The old stories say the veil is invisible, but it marks you. Leaves something behind. Takes something, too.

But I kept moving. The path had long disappeared, replaced by a carpet of moss that shimmered faintly under the canopy’s filtered light. Branches reached low like arms, tugging at my cloak, and the air smelled of damp earth and memory.

That’s when the whispers began.

Soft. Gentle.

Like lullabies from a time I couldn’t remember.

At first, I thought it was the wind. But the air was still. Then I thought it might be Darius—some echo of his voice in my mind. But the words weren’t his.

They were mine.

"Run faster," I heard in my own voice. "Before she sees you."

I froze. My heart slammed against my chest.

"I never wanted the crown," the whisper came again, this time from behind. "You took it."

I spun, searching the shadows. No one.

The hairs on my arms rose. My wolf stirred uneasily inside me, ears flat, tail tucked low.

"Just illusions," I muttered. "The Vale tests you." freewёbn૦νeɭ.com

Still, my steps slowed.

As the hours passed, the forest played more tricks.

I saw my mother once—Aira—standing between two trees, her red hair braided down her back, her eyes gentle but hollow. When I reached for her, she crumbled into ash.

Later, I glimpsed my younger self. The girl I was before the first shift, before the betrayals, before Thornridge. She looked so scared. So alone.

I blinked—and she was gone.

The forest had no sense of time. Sunlight dimmed but never vanished. The sky beyond the branches remained a permanent twilight, pinks and purples bleeding into indigo. I had no idea how long I’d walked.

But my legs were aching. My eyes stung. My skin prickled from unseen stares.

By nightfall—or what I thought might be night—I stumbled into a small clearing, barely large enough to stretch my arms. The moss here was softer. Almost warm.

I dropped to my knees.

My pack slid from my shoulder. My hands trembled as I unwrapped the last strip of dried meat from inside, chewing numbly, tasting nothing. Every muscle in my body screamed. My wolf whimpered inside me, anxious, coiled tight.

Then the forest spoke again.

Not with words this time.

With feeling.

Grief.

Like it remembered every soul that had ever passed through its grasp—and mourned them all at once.

I lay down slowly, curling onto my side. The carved token from Darius pressed into my palm. I gripped it tight.

For a while, I stared at the canopy above, watching the strange shimmer drift between branches, like stardust caught in invisible currents.

And then—

A breath on my neck.

I jerked upright.

Nothing.

No wind. No movement.

But the whisper was clear this time. A voice not mine.

"You’ve crossed. You cannot return the same."

I held still, throat dry. "Who’s there?"

Silence.

I looked around. Every tree looked like the next, but now their trunks seemed... wrong. Faces carved in bark. Eyes that blinked when I wasn’t watching. Mouths agape in silent screams.

My heart thundered. My wolf snarled.

The forest had teeth.

But I didn’t run.

I lay back down, forcing my limbs to still.

"This is what I came for," I whispered to no one. "Test me. Break me. But I will not turn away."

Somewhere in the distance, an owl called once. Then silence fell again.

I closed my eyes.

The last thing I saw was the moon—bloated and wrong—peering through the trees like a watching god.

And as sleep pulled me under, I didn’t know...

...I had already crossed into another world.

---

The wind was cold when I woke, sharp and thin like the air itself had been scraped raw. My fingers brushed over the rocky ground beneath me, uneven and dusted with frost. I blinked the blur from my eyes and slowly sat up.

Mountains. They rose all around me, jagged peaks piercing the low clouds like frozen fangs. I turned in a slow circle, stunned. I had fallen asleep in a forest, surrounded by shadows and voices. But now, I was somewhere else. Higher. Emptier.

The veil between worlds. I had crossed it.

I touched my chest, feeling the steady beat of my heart. Still alive. Still me. But everything felt different. Lighter and heavier all at once.

A soft rush of wings caught my ear.

I looked up, and my breath hitched.

Descending from the sky like a flame of living color was the most magnificent bird I had ever seen. Its feathers shimmered in shades of sapphire and violet, glowing faintly with an inner light. It circled once, twice, then landed soundlessly before me.

Its eyes met mine—deep pools of silver. And I heard it.

Not with my ears.

But in my mind.

*Luciana of Thornridge. Chosen by land and moon. You seek to mend what was broken. Then you must rise above what holds you.*

I froze. My lips parted but no words came out. The bird stepped forward, tall as my waist, regal and unafraid. Its feathers rippled in the wind, and with one elegant motion, it extended a wing and pressed it lightly to my shoulder.

Images exploded behind my eyes.

A mountain peak. Wind screaming. Empty air beneath my feet. And then—flight.

"No," I gasped aloud. "I can’t fly. I’m not like you."

*You carry the blood of wolves, the soul of a woman, and now the weight of prophecy. This realm will not train your body. It will test your spirit. Fly, and you will find your path.*

I shook my head. "But I don’t have wings. I can barely shift fully when I’m scared. How can I fly?"

The bird turned, spreading its wings wide. The wind roared around us, tugging at my hair, stinging my eyes. I felt small beneath its wingspan, no bigger than a pup.

*Not all flight is of the body, Luciana. Leap, and the sky will answer.*

It started to take off again. My breath caught. "Wait! Please! What happens if I fall?"

*Then rise again. Or be forgotten.*

And with that, it launched into the sky.

I stood there, stunned and shaking. Forgotten?

I turned toward the slope ahead. A narrow ledge led higher up the mountain. The path was slick with ice, but I took a step. Then another.

Each footfall echoed in my chest like a drumbeat.

As I climbed, the wind howled louder. The world below shrank. Memories of Silverglen, of Darius and Erya, flickered in my mind like distant stars.

I wanted to go back. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

The path ended at the edge of a cliff. I looked down. The drop was endless. The clouds swirled beneath me, hiding the earth like secrets.

And across from the cliff, far beyond the gap, was another ledge. Another path. And beside it, a stone gate carved with ancient runes.

The next step.

But the only way to reach it—

Was to fly.

Or fall.

I stared at the gap. My knees trembled. The bird had said the sky would answer. What if it didn’t?

I closed my eyes and tried to remember the feeling from the vision it gave me. Wind under my body. The sensation of rising. Trusting.

I spread my arms.

My wolf stirred inside me, restless. Wild. Terrified.

"Just one step," I whispered. "For Erya. For Darius. For everyone."

And I jumped.

The air tore at me. My heart slammed in my chest. I was falling. Falling.

Then something shifted.

Warmth surged through me. My body tingled. I screamed—not in fear, but in release. Light wrapped around me. I didn’t know what I was becoming, but it wasn’t just a wolf or a woman.

I felt wings.

Not physical ones, but something deeper. My spirit stretched. My essence soared.

The fall slowed. Then stopped. I hovered, weightless, drifting across the gap.

I reached the other side. My feet touched the ledge gently. I sank to my knees, gasping.

The skybird landed beside me.

You did not fall. Remember this.

I laughed through tears. "But I didn’t fly either. Not really."

Flying is not always soaring. Sometimes, it is surviving the fall.

It turned its head, then looked at the stone gate. The runes glowed faintly.

*You have passed the first challenge. The Vale awaits. Prepare yourself, Luciana. You are not the only soul who heard the curse. Others have come. Not all with good in their hearts.*

I swallowed hard. "What do I do now?"

*You walk through that gate. For twenty-one days, you will be tested. Each day harder than the last. You will be offered power. You will be shown your fears. But only you can choose what to take and what to leave behind.*

I stood slowly, wiping my eyes. "Will I see you again?"

When you need me most, I will return. Remember, the sky holds more than stars. It holds memory. And promise.

The skybird beat its wings once and vanished into the clouds.

I turned to the gate.

My hands trembled as I placed them against the stone.

The runes pulsed. A wind swept out, warm and smelling of jasmine and something older—something primal.

The gate opened.

I stepped through.

And the world changed again.