The moon gate drew her inwards. Darkness surged forward, enveloping her and consuming everything as the world unraveled around her. Amriel's breath hitched as she found herself suspended in a vast, endless void. The pond, the moonlit clearing, Thalon—all of it had vanished as if erased by the black sea now enveloping her.
She wasn't walking anymore. Her feet no longer touched solid ground, yet she wasn't falling either. She drifted, her movements fluid, guided by some unseen force that seemed to anticipate her every thought. The air—or what passed for air—was thick and resonant, vibrating with a low, steady hum that thrummed through her chest.
The darkness wasn't empty. It breathed. It pulsed. It was alive.
Tiny pinpricks of light began to pierce through the black, faint at first, like distant stars winking into existence. They shimmered and swirled in erratic patterns, shifting just beyond her understanding. She reached out instinctively, her fingers grazing the lights. They were warm and electric, slipping through her hands like golden threads, leaving trails of heat that tickled her skin.
Then, without warning, her mind flooded with visions.
A night sky ablaze with shooting stars, blanketing a sprawling city bathed in silver light. A mountain veiled in shadow, its jagged peak cutting through dense, ancient forest. A figure standing at the edge of a storm, its silhouette cloaked in swirling darkness. The images flickered, lingering for only moments before dissolving back into the void.
"Hello, Amriel..."
The voice was soft yet impossibly vast, as if the darkness itself had spoken. Its power was palpable, vibrating in her very bones. Her heart raced as she spun around, searching for the source, but she was utterly alone.
"Who's there?" she called, her voice trembling despite the calm that seemed to emanate from the void. The question echoed, swallowed by the immense quiet.
Silence followed, but she could feel it—something moving around her, its presence brushing against the edges of her awareness like a shadow circling a flame.
The lights around her began to coalesce, drawn together by some unseen force. Their swirling became faster, tighter, until they wove themselves into a breathtaking tapestry of stars and shapes that grew vivid beneath her.
Amriel gasped as the scene took form, and suddenly she was soaring. Her perspective shifted, impossibly high, as though she were an eagle gliding silently through the vast night. Below her, a city unfurled—one unlike anything she had ever seen in the Seven Realms.
Spires of glass and stone rose from the valley floor, glowing with silvery light and etched with pulsing runes. Rooftops gleamed copper beneath an unseen source of light, while streams of liquid silver meandered through emerald meadows surrounding the city. Even the trees seemed alive with inner light, their luminous leaves shimmering at the valley's edges.
She was being drawn closer—not just to the city, but to something at its core. Something waiting.
The descent quickened, sharp and purposeful. She felt an inexplicable sensation—the ghost of wings folding tightly against her back. Faster and faster she fell, the city's brilliance rushing toward her, the hum of the runes resonating with her heartbeat.
Just as impact seemed inevitable, the vision shattered. It didn't fade—it broke apart like fragile glass struck by a hammer. Shards of light scattered around her, spinning into countless twinkling stars that spiraled into the void.
Amriel gasped, suspended once again in the vast black sea. Her body trembled, the pulse of the city still lingering in her veins like an echo. Before she could collect her thoughts, the darkness shifted again.
"Amriel..." The voice returned, deeper now, resonant and impossibly close. Not just a voice—a presence, vast and all-encompassing, pressing against her very soul.
"What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice trembling, her fists clenching as she fought to steady herself in the emptiness.
The darkness didn't answer in words. Instead, it acted. Amriel's world lurched as if the void itself had seized her, and suddenly she was hurtling through the starry expanse. The lights streaked past her in a dizzying blur, their shapes bending and twisting. Then, all at once, everything exploded in a blinding flash of white light.
Amriel gasped as her senses returned, her vision slowly adjusting to the sudden brightness. The first thing she noticed was the air—cool and crisp, carrying the earthy scent of moss and rain-soaked wood.
She was no longer in the void. Or was she?
Her pulse quickened as she turned in a slow circle, her hand rising to clasp the iron ring about her neck—a nervous habit from childhood. The forest around her thrummed with a vitality that defied explanation, brushing against her skin and filling her lungs with every breath. Grey barked trees that resembled those of the Vhengal forest she'd left behind glowed faintly from within.
"Thalon?" she called, her voice small against the vastness of the forest.
A shadow detached itself from a nearby tree. Relief flooded her chest as Thalon stepped into view, his familiar silhouette grounding her in this unfamiliar place.
"So, you made it," he said, his voice quiet but carrying an undertone of approval. Something in his emerald eyes suggested he'd been uncertain of the outcome.
Amriel's brows knit together as she recoiled slightly. "Wait... what do you mean 'I made it'?" She half asked, half demanded. "What exactly was that?" Her hand gestured back toward where they'd come from, though the moon gate was nowhere to be seen.
Thalon stepped closer, his presence somehow amplified in this strange place. The faint glow of the moonlight piercing through the canopy caught in his sharp features, giving him an otherworldly appearance as he inspected her.
"That was the gate," he said evenly. "And yes, you made it through. Not everyone does."
His words carried weight—an implication that made her stomach tighten. "You're telling me the Gate to the Vale could have rejected me? And you didn't think to mention this before I stepped through a magical doorway?" She demanded.
Thalon's lips pressed into a thin line as he considered her. "The Vale is more than just a place, Amriel. It's... selective." He glanced at the glowing forest around them. "It chooses who may enter."
"And if it hadn't chosen me?" she pressed, her voice sharpening.
"The Vale doesn't reject," Thalon said as he turned from her and slung his pack back over his shoulder. "From what I understand, it erases."
A chill ran down her spine. "It erases?" she echoed, her voice barely audible, "What does that mean?"
There was a moment of heavy silence—then, unexpectedly, the corner of Thalon's mouth quirked upward. Something gleamed in his eyes that she hadn't seen before.
"Well, no one knows for certain," he said, his tone lightening a fraction. "Since the erased can't exactly report back on the experience."
Amriel stared at him, dumbfounded. After all the terror of the void, after the sensation of being torn apart and reassembled, he was... joking?
Seeing her expression, Thalon let out a soft chuckle. "I'm sorry," he said, his smile becoming more pronounced. "If the Vale had rejected you—which was unlikely given what I know of you—you would have simply found yourself back at the pond where we started."
"You think this is funny?" she demanded, though her anger was already beginning to subside, replaced by something like bewilderment. This was a side of her guide she hadn't glimpsed before.
"No?" he said hesitantly, instantly sobering at the look in her cobalt eyes. "I thought the tension needed breaking.
"And that is how you do it? By telling me I could have been erased?" Amriel asked, flabbergasted that he'd thought to joke about something that had been borderline terrifying.
"Your face when you arrived—" He gestured vaguely at her, but the look in the cobalt eyes that glared back at him stopped Thalon short, "Right, not funny. Forgive me."
Amriel took a deep breath, trying to process this unexpected shift. "Alright," she sighed softly, "So I'll take it this is the Vale?" She looked to the forest around them.
Thalon nodded. "Indeed, it is." He gestured toward a faint path winding between the luminous trees. "We should move. The border lands aren't always stable for newcomers."
As he turned to lead the way, Amriel caught the ghost of his smile again. There was more to her mysterious guide than she'd initially thought—layers she hadn't expected beneath his serious exterior.
Together, they ventured deeper into the sentient forest that had, for reasons still unknown to Amriel, deemed her worthy of entry.
After twenty minutes or so of traveling single file through the dense trees and underbrush gave way to a wider, more well travelled path. Here rut lines from the passage of wagons had left their marks in the forest floor.
"So," she said, falling into step beside, her curiosity temporarily overriding her lingering unease, "Where are we headed?"
Thalon kept his eyes fixed ahead, "This road will eventually lead us to An'Shal, the Great Mountain. But first, we're going to pay a visit to some," He hesitated a moment, "...friends of mine. They are on the way, about another hour's journey."
Amriel studied Thalon's profile as they walked. The mention of friends had piqued her interest—it was the first hint that her mysterious guide wasn't completely isolated in this strange realm.
"Friends?" she echoed, carefully picking her way around a gnarled root that seemed to pulse with a faint blue light. "I didn't realize you were the type to have those."
Thalon glanced at her, one eyebrow raised. "I suspect there are many things you don't realize about me," he replied, but there was no edge to his words. Instead, that same hint of amusement lingered in his voice.
"Clearly," Amriel muttered. "Like your penchant for leading people through reality-bending gateways without proper warning."
The path widened further as they walked, the forest canopy thinning enough to allow dappled silver light to illuminate their way. Unlike the moonlight of the Vhengal forest, this light seemed to emanate from the sky itself—a luminescence without a visible source.
"What is An'Shal?" Amriel asked after a comfortable silence had fallen between them. "You called it the Great Mountain."
Thalon nodded, his steps sure and purposeful on the rutted road. "An'Shal is the heart of the Vale," he explained. "Some say it was the first thing to exist here, before the forest, before the rivers. It's where the Keepers reside."
"Keepers?"
"The Keepers of the three realms," Thalon said, his voice taking on a reverent tone she hadn't heard from him before. "They maintain the balance."
Amriel's mind reeled as she absorbed this information, trying to fit it into the fragmented understanding she was building of this place. "The three realms?"
Thalon nodded, "There are three realms in existence; The Mortal Realm, the Realm of Dreams, and the Realm of Nightmares." He said it so easily, as if it was something she should always have known, "The Vale is where all three realms overlap."