Volume no.1 "Lost Within Shadows"
Chapter 1: Shadow of the Past
Night pressed against the broken city, heavy and unmoving, while the ruins stretched in every direction, silent and hollow.
Peter sat on a crumbling wall and watched the place where everything had gone wrong. Towers bent like wounded giants, streets lay split open by time, and far away a few lights flickered, stubborn and weak.
He looked toward the garden. The bench was still there, surrounded by charred earth, black and empty. For a moment he did not move.
Then his gaze shifted.
A stuffed bear lay half-buried in ash, burnt, one ear torn off, stuffing exposed through a shredded leg. He looked away.
His eyes glossed over, but no tears came.
'This isn't over.'
'Not tonight.'
A man stood beside him, cloaked, silent, weathered.
Peter exhaled once.
"I'm ready."
The old man studied him for a long moment.
"Are you?"
His voice was low, rough.
"Once you cross the rift, there is no coming back. Ether doesn't forgive mistakes."
"I know."
Peter's tone did not waver.
A faint smile touched the man's lips.
"Two hundred meters north, between the river and the treeline."
Peter nodded.
"It's goodbye, then."
The man pulled him into an embrace. Peter hesitated for a fraction of a second, then returned it.
"Take care of yourself," the old man said quietly. "Find allies if you must… but don't trust too easily."
"I learned that from you."
For the first time, something warmer slipped into his voice.
"Until next time."
"Until next time."
Peter turned and walked away, leaving the man watching until he disappeared into the dark.
"Good luck… son."
***
The ground beneath Peter's steps was scorched, dry and brittle. He moved quietly as the wind shifted, brushing against him with something that did not belong.
He stopped.
To his right, a clearing opened, blackened and lifeless, with grass curled like burned paper and trees standing as hollow silhouettes. At its center, the air itself was torn open.
A jagged rift pulsed with a pale, sick light while mist coiled around it, restless and cold. Peter approached slowly, feeling the faint pull of the other side press against him.
He tilted his head, studying the fracture.
'About three meters… narrow… second category.'
The air smelled wrong, warm and acrid.
Something had passed through not long ago.
Peter stepped closer, then paused for a brief moment and looked back. The ruins stretched behind him, silent and empty.
Then he stepped forward.
"Now or never."
Darkness swallowed the light, sound fractured, smell collapsed, and the world twisted
and then it was gone.
Peter followed.