Torn Between Destinies-Chapter 46 - Forty Six

The first thing I felt was the cold.

It seeped through my skin as I stirred awake, a sharp contrast to the warmth I remembered before sleep took me. The mossy bed I’d collapsed onto was damp now, the air dense and heavy, like it had rained without water. My eyes fluttered open slowly.

Gray twilight hovered in the sky, but it wasn’t the same sky I’d known.

This place was... thinner. The colors stretched and flickered like oil on water. Trees loomed taller, their trunks pale as bone and hollow at the core, whispering when the wind passed through. Light pooled unnaturally around stones and roots, as though it gathered there on purpose.

I sat up slowly, rubbing my arms. My body ached, my legs stiff from the long trek, but something else tugged at me—deeper than sore muscles. An invisible thread pulling me forward. The forest wanted me to move.

The *Vale of Ancients* had accepted me.

I had crossed.

Somehow, the knowing settled in my bones.

A part of me wondered if I was dead. But my heartbeat thumped slow and steady. My wolf stirred restlessly in my chest. Alive, then—though what version of life this was, I didn’t know.

I stood, brushing off damp leaves, and slung my pack over my shoulder. It was lighter now. The food nearly gone. The water flask half empty. But survival wasn’t my fear.

It was the task ahead.

Twenty-one days of training. Alone. Guided by forces I didn’t understand. No map. No voice. Just faith.

A flicker of movement to my left made me snap my head around.

Nothing.

But then the air shimmered, and a stone in the distance lit with a soft blue glow. Like a beacon.

I followed.

The Vale didn’t offer paths. It offered signs.

The stone led to a fallen log. The log led to a shallow stream, bubbling but silent. And just beyond the stream, the cliff.

I didn’t realize how high I’d climbed until I stood at its edge.

The land fell away in a sweeping cascade of cliffs and floating rock islands, suspended midair like they were hung from invisible strings. Between them was nothing. No trees. No wind. Just a chasm of swirling mist.

Below, darkness stretched infinitely.

And across the gap—far ahead on a jagged plateau—stood a door. A large archway carved from obsidian and bone, lit from behind by pulsing violet light.

The *threshold*.

My next trial.

I took a step back.

There was no bridge.

Just a flat expanse and the impossible.

Jump.

That was the unspoken command.

Every instinct rebelled.

"No," I whispered, fists clenched. "I can’t."

My wolf growled low inside me, uncertain. Not afraid of death, but unsure of the rules here. This place didn’t follow the laws of earth or sky. It answered only to the ancient magic buried beneath it. frёewebnoѵel.ƈo๓

"Jump," the forest whispered.

It came from behind, a breeze that carried no scent.

I turned—but no one was there.

The cliff trembled beneath my feet, subtle as a heartbeat.

Jump, and you will soar.

"I have no wings," I murmured. "I’m not like them."

My thoughts raced—Darius would be searching for me, even though he promised not to follow. Kiani would be curled up in Aira’s lap, asking where I went. Erya would cry if she didn’t smell me for too long.

I shouldn’t be here.

But I *was* here.

And I remembered the dream.

The burning of Silverglen. The howl of the cursed wolves. The voice that said, *Only you.*

The land chose me.

"Okay," I breathed.

I backed up three paces. My heartbeat pounded in my ears. My knees felt weak.

"I trust you," I whispered to the forest, to the air, to whatever force had brought me here.

Then I ran.

One step. Two. Three.

I reached the edge and pushed off, the world dropping from under me.

For a moment, there was nothing.

No sound. No wind. Just space.

And then—

I *soared*.

Not with wings. Not with magic I could name. But with belief.

The mist held me. The chasm pulled back. My body floated forward, drifting like a leaf on a summer current.

I gasped, laughter bubbling from my lips as weightlessness enveloped me. My arms flailed at first, but then stilled. The Vale had caught me. Carried me.

I was *flying*.

Below me, shapes moved in the mist—serpents made of smoke, great birds with too many wings. But they didn’t rise. They watched. Observed.

I was the guest.

I tilted forward, gaze fixed on the obsidian door ahead. It grew closer.

Closer.

And then fear came.

It struck me like a claw to the gut. Doubt. Sharp and sudden.

What if this was a trap? What if the Vale showed you miracles just to let you fall?

My faith faltered.

And so did the air.

The mist recoiled.

Gravity yanked me back like a jealous lover.

"No!" I cried.

I began to fall.

The floating stones rushed past me. The sky spun. I screamed as the cliff face soared into view, jagged and sharp. Trees clung to its side like desperate fingers.

I twisted midair, throwing my arms out, bracing for impact.

*CRACK.*

Pain exploded through my back as I slammed into a jutting ledge, rolled, and skidded down a slope of loose stone. My head struck something hard, and stars burst behind my eyes.

I tumbled once more.

Then everything went still.

The world faded.

And I surrendered to the darkness.

---

When consciousness returned, it was slow.

I felt nothing at first. Just the thrum of pain in every limb.

Then the scent of blood hit me. My own. Sharp. Metallic. Warm where it seeped down my side.

I blinked up at a sky I didn’t recognize. Not twilight anymore.

Just white.

Blank and endless.

Snow?

No. It was light.

Everywhere.

I tried to move. My legs refused. My arm twitched but couldn’t lift.

Breathing hurt.

I was still on the cliff. Still alive.

Somehow.

But the door was gone.

The flight had failed.

Or maybe I had failed.

Tears slipped from my eyes.

"I tried," I whispered.

There was no answer.

Just wind, cold and humming with power.

The trees above bent slightly, as if bowing in sympathy—or in judgment.

My vision blurred again. Not from tears this time. From exhaustion. Blood loss. Bone-deep weariness.

And yet...

Even as the world dulled again, a voice stirred inside me.

Not from the forest. Not from a god.

From me.

This is part of it. Not all flights are smooth. Some begin in falling.

The ground shifted beneath me. The stone warmed.

I wasn’t done.

Not yet.

But for now, I closed my eyes.

And let sleep claim me again.