Lucian Nightshade walked down the empty road, the cool air brushing against his face as he kicked a pebble ahead of him. The playground lights behind him dimmed, leaving only the hum of distant traffic and the glow of streetlamps to guide his way. He walked alone, as he usually did. Loneliness wasn't new to him.
The night was quiet, the only sound that could be heard was the sound of honks far across the street. Wind blowing the darkness if the night. Sound of some people from the house he just passed. He was alone and he preferred it. Until he heard something more.
A roar of an engine cut through the silence. Headlights flared, blinding him as a truck barrelled around the corner far too fast. Tires screeched, rubber burning against asphalt. Lucian froze, caught between fear and disbelief.
Lucian's world exploded in pain. The impact hurled him into the air. Time seemed to slow—the taste of blood in his mouth, the sound of glass shattering, the crushing weight in his chest—then his vision went black, the senses fade, then everything dissolved into darkness.
He thought it was over.
But then his sight returned.
He was upright, arms and legs pinned by something rough and cold. Roots. They wrapped around his body, binding him against a pale, twisted tree. The air was thick with the scent of sap and earth. His breathing quickened as he realized he could not move.
Strange figures stood before him, half-hidden in the shadows. Small but not too short, sharp-featured women with glowing golden eyes, white hair, their faces both childlike and ancient. They stood in a half-circle, around ten of them, watching him without expression.
One stood in the centre before a fire. She was holding something in her hand like a sharp metal piece and was chanting something in whispers.
The others began to chant out loud, their voices weaving into a haunting rhythm. The words were alien not known to Lucian, yet so heavy with power that it sounded like his eardrums would explode not because of the volume but because of the intensity.
Lucian struggled, his throat straining.
"excuse me, who are you"
"W-Wait! What are you—?!"
But the woman didn't respond to his plea. She kept her cold compose, unaffected by the cries of the man in front of her.
"Please don't. Stop I don't want this."
But the woman was untouched by his fear. She showed no sign of any mercy. Each step she took towards him was focused, measured and deliberate.
The chanting of the other women grew drowning him in the intense voices.
Lucian's breath was fast and breathing in harsh gasps. Heartbeat bounding against the flow of blood in veins.
Soon the fear took him, and his breathing became harder. He was gasping for air while looking at something he still could not process. He was looking at death for second time in his life. First a few moments ago when he was hit by a truck.
Now when he woke up to think he somehow survived that accident but then he was about to be a sacrifice in some very evil plot of these strange looking women chanting unknown chants. And soon his struggle died in vain.
His voice began to fade. No sound left his lips. His voice was swallowed before it even touched the air.
Panic set in. He thrashed against the roots, trying to free himself, but his efforts were useless, as the roots only tightened further. His pulse thundered in his ears as the woman approached, her gaze calm, unyielding.
"No! Stop!" he screamed, though only silence answered.
She raised the shard. The black crystal caught the faint light of the weirwood fire, its jagged edges glinting like the teeth of some ancient beast. For a heartbeat, Lucian saw his reflection in its surface—wide, terrified eyes staring back. Then she pressed it to his chest.
Agony flared white-hot as the shard pierced flesh and bone, sliding slowly, deliberately, into his heart. He arched against the tree, a strangled cry tearing from his throat though the world refused to hear it. The chanting rose, echoing in his skull, drowning him in sound and pain.
His vision blurred. Darkness swirled at the edges of his sight.
Lucian's body convulsed. His scream faded into silence. His eyes rolled back as the last of his strength fled, and the world vanished once more.
He fainted.
After some time, Lucian's returns to his senses and starts to open his eyes and found himself still tied to the tree in upright position. When his vision became clear he saw the strange women still there but this time they were sitting on group. The woman who stabbed him was standing in the middle and was telling them something which was not audible to Lucian.
He looked around to see himself in the middle of trees, so he concluded it was some kind of forest or jungle. He still felt pain in the place where he was stabbed so he looked down to check but to his surprise there was no sharp object stabbed to his chest.
There wasn't even any trace of stabbing or any kind of wound on his body. But he still felt the pain.
Then he suddenly caught something. He saw his feet and knew how they were but now the feet he was looking at was not of his.
Pale. Elongated. Almost lifeless, like carved stone. He wiggled his toes—slow, unnatural, as though they weren't truly his to command. Panic rushed through him. His legs felt heavier, longer, each joint stiff, alien. Even his skin shimmered faintly in the dim light, veins glowing with a faint blue hue that pulsed in time with his heart.
Lucian twisted, struggling against the bonds, but even the way his muscles strained felt wrong—like power coiled beneath the surface, too cold, too sharp. His chest burned where the shard had pierced him, and every heartbeat echoed like thunder through this unfamiliar body.
Then he looked towards the strange women and saw the woman who was standing noticed him.
She walked around the circle of other women and came towards him. he thought that he should fear again but surprisingly he didn't feel it this time as though he knew this time she won't stab him.
As she neared and reached him, he decided to wait for her to speak.
"You are awake. You shall be the weapon of the Wild. Sword of the forest and protect us from the men in the south."