Beyond Death: the rise of atreya

The air was cold, biting into Atreya's skin as he stumbled through the dense forest. His breath came in ragged gasps, his limbs heavy and trembling. It had been days since he escaped the waterway, and his body bore the marks of his struggle—scratches from branches, bruises from falls, and the unrelenting ache of hunger.

He clutched the black sword tightly, its weight unfamiliar yet oddly comforting. The symbols etched on its blade shimmered faintly, but no warmth came from it.

"You're mine now," he whispered to the sword, his voice hoarse. "Even if you reject me, I won't let go."

The sword remained silent, cold and unyielding.

---

Flashback to the Ambush

The memory struck him like a thunderbolt. The screams of the maids, the clash of steel, and the cold, sharp words of his father.

"Atreya, run!" his father had commanded, his voice firm but filled with urgency.

But Atreya had hesitated. He'd watched as the soldiers stormed the mansion, their blades gleaming under the torchlight. His mother had been the first to fall, her body collapsing as she shielded his younger siblings. His siblings' cries were silenced moments later.

"Father—!" Atreya had started, only to be grabbed by the collar. His father's eyes burned with a mix of anger and desperation.

"There's no time! Go!"

When Atreya had finally moved, it was too late. The enemy soldiers closed in, their blades poised to strike. His father had stepped in front of him, arms spread wide as swords pierced his body. Blood sprayed across Atreya's face.

"I… I was hard on you," his father had rasped, blood pooling in his mouth. "Not because I didn't love you… but because I did. You're stronger than you know, Atreya. Live… for all of us."

The last thing Atreya saw was his father collapsing, his body shielding him from the soldiers' final blows. He had fled, blinded by tears, his heart shattered.

---

Present Day

Atreya shook his head violently, trying to banish the memory. His father's sacrifice had saved him, but it had also left him alone.

The forest seemed endless, an oppressive maze of towering trees and thorny undergrowth. He scavenged for food, eating roots and berries he wasn't sure were safe. He drank from muddy streams and shivered through cold, sleepless nights.

One evening, as he sat huddled beneath a tree, he heard a low growl. His heart leaped as a pair of glowing yellow eyes emerged from the darkness. A wolf.

The beast lunged, and Atreya barely managed to roll out of the way. Gripping the sword, he swung clumsily, the blade heavy in his hands.

"I won't die here," he growled through gritted teeth.

The wolf circled him, its movements fluid and calculated. Atreya swung again, but the beast dodged effortlessly. As it lunged once more, something inside him snapped.

A dark purple aura flickered around his hands, spreading to the sword. The blade seemed to hum in response, its symbols glowing faintly. Atreya swung with renewed strength, and this time, the blade connected.

The wolf yelped as the dark energy coursed through it, reducing it to ash.

Atreya fell to his knees, the sword slipping from his grasp. His hands trembled as he stared at the remains of the beast.

"What… what was that?" he whispered.

The sword remained silent, its glow fading.