Page 1 of Sundered By Fate

One

When Aric crested the familiar hill, his heart nearly stopped.

Thornhaven lay sprawled below, nestled in its valley like always, and yet?—

His knees weakened at the sight of it. After so long in the demon realms—months of darkness and labyrinthine halls, of bladed decor and throne rooms heaped with obsidian spikes—even the quaintly crooked buildings of his old human home overwhelmed him. He splayed a trembling hand against the gnarled oak's trunk and caught his breath, shoulders hunching beneath his ragged demon leathers.

It was all so normal, too normal—the marketplace stalls clogged with bartering shoppers, the temple's spire craning towards the morning sun—and Aric closed his eyes, willing himself back to this present. All around him, the amber waves of wheat rustled in a morning breeze; nearby, the lazy Trickling Brook murmured over smooth river stones.

But there was something wrong here that he couldn't place—not exactly, anyway. A niggling, maddening absence of something: No siege weaponry lined the outer rim of city gates that looked made for aesthetic and nothing else; no crenelatedwalls bristling with archers shuddered as creatures scraped at them from below.

If not for the gnawing hole where some intangible sense should have been but wasn't, he might even have believed that everything truly was peaceful here. As if, like when he'd dreamed inside that strange magic field on the other side of the portal that seemed to know his deepest longings better than he knew himself, he could return to this land as if nothing had ever happened.

Aric swallowed back bitterness as sharp as ash on his tongue and pushed away from the tree's embrace. It wasn't real—not really. But it would do.

Aric couldn't forget the mission that had brought him back here. Steeling himself, he reminded himself of all the crucial information he'd gathered in the demon realm: everything from their military strategies to secrets about their magic and technology. The humans needed to be warned about the demon invasion and change their warding protocols.

And then there was the alarming anomaly he'd witnessed, a destabilizing force at the intersection of both realms that threatened to unravel the very fabric of reality. He still didn't know exactly how the new weapon was involved, but he couldn't dispel the nagging fear that its power had far more dangerous consequences than anyone suspected.

There was also—there was also Malekith. They'd become entangled in ways Aric still struggled to comprehend. What kind of hell would Malekith face now before the Sovereign, after allowing Aric to escape? Aric had given up everything for their impossible alliance—a truce born from blood and fury and love—he couldn't accept that it had all been in vain.

Every shadow seemed to hold a threat, every shudder of the wind a reminder of what could happen if he failed. He couldn'tallow himself to wallow in fear, not now when so much was at stake.

He tugged at his tunic's collar until he no longer felt its weight against his throat and skirted around the emerald fields of wheat that surrounded Thornhaven like a fortress wall, heading for the back gate with far too little confidence or stealth. He'd have to find some way into the city. Someone here who would hear him out about the danger looming over them all.

Aric's world narrowed to a fist of ragged breaths, the bone-deep tremor of weariness that shivered through his every limb as he forced himself to move. The gatekeepers barely looked up as he trudged into Thornhaven, and the earth-smoke, jasmine and oil scent of the demons washed away under the heady perfume of salt and spices from nearby market stalls.

It was a balm and an assault all at once: from the jangle and grind of wagons careening along cobbled streets to the lively chorus of chirping songbirds fluttering overhead, the world clamored for his attention at every turn. And oh, that aching hum; he'd almost missed it, like a part of him. The constant thrum of magic that laced through his veins—a subtle current pulsing beneath the surface of everything here.

Yet it was only once the initial dissonance faded—only when he'd adjusted to these new rhythms and cadences—that he finally allowed himself to see the lurking darkness in their midst.

The scorch marks pocking storefronts like angry welts; the burnt stench hanging heavy over everything, thick as fog; buildings boarded up against some unseen foe. Aric's heart clenched with panic he had no right to feel. He couldn't see anything outright sinister here. Perhaps things truly had changed after he left. Or perhaps this was something darker in wait—an invisible specter haunting them all, even if only he could sense its presence.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to lose himself in this mundane world, Aric knew he couldn't afford to be lulled into complacency. If the demonic Sovereign's plans had advanced already . . . The thought choked him with terror.

Ignoring the curiosity in townspeople's eyes (no doubt fixed on his tattered clothing), Aric veered deeper into Thornhaven's heart.

Every shred of this normalcy around him was why he'd come so far, risked so much.

Everything he'd sacrificed in his quest to defy the Pureblade Order, who'd have put him to death rather than let him counter the demons' rising tide. Every chance he took when delving into demon magic, the rituals and wardings he'd glimpsed as he walked their realm with Malekith at his side. The hatred and distrust he'd swallowed down even as it festered inside him like poison.

He'd done it all for them—the people of Thornhaven, of Astaria, of every town like this one, so they could live unthreatened and unafraid. But now, their joy and peace seemed almost alien after everything he'd endured to safeguard them. Everything he'd given up?—

This was not where Aric was meant to be. Not anymore.

He still didn't know what Malekith wanted from him—why the demon prince had been willing to sacrifice so much to help him escape. Aric could guess some of it. Whatever allegiance Malekith swore to the Sovereign of the Demon Court, whatever promises he gave when swearing fealty to their gruesome plans—Malekith had given no small piece of himself away, either.

And whatever had drawn Malekith to Aric in the first place . . . Aric knew better than most just how consuming such needs could become.

The demons would never relent in their desire to own him, one way or another—to mold him into a weapon of their owndesign or else wipe him off this earth once they'd finished with him. In some ways, that terrified Aric more than anything he could imagine.

Even more than the ruin these humans might heap on themselves as they continued their reckoning with the demons' threat.

Doubt and fear gnawed at Aric like a gnawing itch, spreading thick through his veins and leaving dread in its wake. But those doubts didn't matter—not now. What mattered was stopping these demons before they tore apart everything Aric held dear.

Aric stopped at last before a bakery and took a shaky breath of hot bread and herbs baking in clay ovens out back.

Then let go.

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