The Other To Divinity

Theos drifted between waking and darkness, his mind tangled in shadows. He felt himself gasp for breath, the air thick and unfamiliar, each inhale scratching against his throat. What is this? His thoughts wavered, struggling to coalesce in the blackness pressing down on him. The silence weighed heavy, like an iron shroud, yet his own heartbeat thudded loudly in his ears, each beat grounding him in the present moment, pulling him out of the strange dreamlike fog.

It was just a dream, he reminded himself, though even that thought rang hollow. Theos felt the memories drifting back, yet they seemed empty, like echoes of something he should remember but couldn't quite grasp.

My name is Theos Khronus. He latched onto the thought, letting it pull him back to some semblance of self. The name steadied him, though the questions pressed harder in his mind. Where am I? What day is it? What... am I?

Theos managed to open his eyes, blinking against the harshness of daylight, and saw that he was lying in the center of a massive crater. The earth looked as if some tremendous force had carved it away, leaving him stranded on an island of scorched, cracked soil. The crater stretched out in all directions, desolate and seemingly endless, like a vast wound upon the land. It felt surreal, and yet the solidness of the dirt beneath his fingertips told him it was real.

He sat up slowly, his vision hazy, but something—or someone—caught his attention at the crater's edge. A lone figure stood there, outlined against the emptiness. She was tall and radiated an aura of quiet strength, her hair shimmering like spun gold as it caught the sunlight. Her eyes, even from this distance, gleamed like shards of ice, sharp and calculating, assessing him with an intensity he felt on his skin. She wore combat gear that seemed to meld with the landscape, its rugged texture part of the earth itself.

The woman took a few steps toward him, her movements fluid and silent, her gaze never wavering from him. As she came closer, her presence felt as solid as the earth beneath him, yet as ethereal as a dream he couldn't shake. Kneeling beside him, she lifted him with ease, her touch firm but unexpectedly gentle. Theos's mind spun with questions, but the exhaustion was too much. His vision dimmed, his consciousness slipping back into the murky depths.

When he awoke again, he was in a small, sunlit room, the walls rough and bare but bathed in golden light spilling from a window. Theos blinked, his head pounding, as his eyes adjusted to the brightness. He could hear faint noises outside—birds chirping, leaves rustling, distant footsteps—but he was distracted by a single, heavy thought that coiled in his mind: Why am I still alive?

The question gripped him as a flood of memories rushed in. He remembered a life filled with solitude, shadows of a family that felt like a distant, unreachable memory. There had been dreams once, but they had faded into the same darkness that now wrapped around his heart, and he found himself almost wishing to return to that oblivion. He squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself back into sleep, hoping the ache in his chest would dissolve. But something held him there, an invisible tether pulling him from the edge of despair.

The door creaked open quietly, and a presence entered the room, grounding him in the here and now. He opened his eyes, feeling a strange sense of relief as he saw her—the woman from the crater. Her face was kind, unfamiliar yet somehow known, and he hadn't realized just how much he craved a human connection until that moment. He reached out, acting on pure instinct, and wrapped his arms around her, clinging tightly. Emotions surged within him, raw and unguarded, and tears welled up, spilling down his cheeks as his shoulders shook.

She didn't pull away; instead, she embraced him, her hold warm and comforting, steadying him in ways he couldn't express. Their embrace felt timeless, stretching beyond the boundaries of his memory, as if he were finally anchored after drifting in a void for an eternity. Then he felt it—something strange, a soft glow enveloping her, casting a serene, green luminescence that shimmered around them like the light filtering through leaves in a forest. Fear flickered in his eyes as he started to pull back, but he found that he wasn't afraid. The light was warm and peaceful, a reminder of the pulse of life itself.

Slowly, they separated, and Theos took a shaky breath, his voice barely more than a whisper as he asked, "What…are you?"

She met his gaze with compassion and mystery glimmering in her eyes. "I'll explain," she said softly, her voice flowing like a gentle stream, calming the storm inside him.

She sat beside him, her expression thoughtful as she began to speak. "The world of Aryka is vast," she said, her tone laced with memories from a lifetime ago. "It's divided into five continents, each with its own races and histories, each land filled with tales older than most can remember." She paused, glancing out the window as if the lands she spoke of were painted in the sky beyond. "We're currently in the land where humans and elves live side by side. But even among elves, there are different kinds."

Her words seemed to open something within Theos, as if a distant memory was stirring. He listened intently, captivated by the way her words brought visions to life in his mind.

"There are the pure elves," she continued, her gaze turning distant, "the ones brimming with raw, untainted energy. And then there are the dark elves," her voice dropped to a somber note, "elves who were once pure but were corrupted after drinking the blood of a demon god. Their power is twisted, tainted with the darkness that overtook them."

Theos felt a chill run through him, imagining the horror of such corruption, the fall from grace.

"But then, there are the ancient elves," she said, her voice softening, and he could see a flicker of sadness in her eyes. "We are bound to nature itself, connected to water and earth, to the essence of life that flows through every living thing."

She looked at him then, her gaze unwavering, a steady resolve shining through. "I am one of those ancient elves. My name is Roseville."

Theos stared at her, his vision blurred with the last remnants of his tears but sharpened by something fierce within him—a resolve he hadn't felt in a lifetime. Beneath the grief in his eyes was a fire that surprised even him, a silent promise that ignited in his heart. In that instant, he knew, with a certainty that went beyond words, that he would protect her. From that moment on, he vowed that he would guard Roseville, even if it cost him everything he had to give. The gods themselves would falter in the face of his determination.

With his heart set, Theos turned to her, feeling a strength he hadn't known existed. "Will you teach me magic?" His words were heavy, carrying the weight of a thousand promises unspoken, a thousand vows yet to be fulfilled. He knew, in that moment, that he needed to become stronger, not just for himself but for the one who meant more to him than anything he had ever known.

Roseville studied him, her blue eyes piercing yet gentle. After a long silence, she finally nodded. "If that's truly what you wish, I will teach you," she said, her voice calm but filled with a subtle intensity. "But magic isn't just power, Theos. It's a bond with the world, with every element and every living thing. If you seek to protect, you must understand the strength that lies within nature itself."

He nodded, her words settling deep within him, becoming a part of the promise he had made. Roseville began to explain the nature of magic, her voice weaving stories of the elements, the spirits, and the essence of life that flowed through Aryka. She spoke of the ancient rites, of how magic was not simply summoned but shared, a communion with the world itself.

As she spoke, Theos felt the beginnings of something awakening within him. He could feel the faint stirrings of the earth beneath his skin, the whisper of wind brushing against his soul, and for the first time, he felt truly alive. Roseville's words filled the empty places within him, and he felt the ache in his chest ease, replaced by something far more profound.