The Betrayal of Light

The stories don’t say much about the fall. They gloss over the betrayal, the screams, the ashes. What survives in memory is the curse—the Black Wastes, the endless night over the ruins, the shadows that devour any fool stupid enough to enter.

My name is Grey, and I am that fool.

Mira was the one who pulled me into this mess. She had always carried her hope like a sword, sharp and unwavering.

“The Well of Souls is real, Gray,” she said, spreading out the map in front of me.

I leaned back in my chair, arms crossed. “Even if it is, why would we go there? To get ourselves killed?”

She fixed me with a look that burned, her green eyes fierce. “Because if we don’t, nothing changes. The curse will keep spreading, and the world will keep crumbling. Don’t you want something better?”

“Better?” I laughed bitterly. “Mira, Eldwyn’s gone. You can’t save a ghost.”

She leaned forward, her voice softening. “I don’t want to save it. I want to fix what it broke.”

I should have walked away. Instead, I said, “When do we leave?”

The Black Wastes were worse than I imagined.

The ground was cracked and lifeless, but it wasn’t just the land that felt dead. The air hummed faintly, like something alive but wrong, as if the curse itself was breathing. Every step felt heavier, as though the earth wanted to pull us down and swallow us whole.

Mira led the way, her iron staff glowing faintly with runes. She walked like she belonged there, her shoulders squared against the oppressive weight of the place. Me? I kept looking over my shoulder, certain we were being watched.

“We’re close,” Mira said, her voice steady but quiet.

“Too close,” I muttered, tightening my grip on the dagger at my side.

Then we saw them—the ruins of Eldwyn, rising like broken bones out of the blackened earth. The towers leaned at strange angles, and the streets were choked with rubble. Vines with an eerie glow crept over the stones, pulsing faintly like veins carrying poison.

And at the heart of it all was the Well of Souls.

It wasn’t grand. It wasn’t loud. It was just there, a quiet pool of shimmering light that rippled without wind.

“We’re here,” Mira whispered.

She didn’t get a chance to say anything else.

Leo appeared from the shadows, stepping into the faint light of the Well as though he belonged to it.

I knew it was him the moment I saw him. His face was pale and sharp, his eyes glowing faintly like embers. There was no mistaking his power—it radiated from him like heat from a fire, suffocating and unrelenting.

“You’ve come far,” he said, his voice calm but sharp enough to cut. “And for what? To claim a piece of something you can’t understand?”

Mira didn’t flinch. “The Well doesn’t belong to you,” she said, raising her staff. “It belongs to Eldwyn. To its people.”

Leo smiled, cold and cruel. “Eldwyn is dead,” he said simply. “Its people destroyed themselves with their greed. The Well doesn’t save. It takes.”

“You’re wrong,” Mira shot back, her voice shaking but resolute. “It can undo the curse. It can bring balance back.”

Leo’s smile faded, his eyes narrowing. “The Well reflects what is brought to it. Hope, despair, power—it amplifies until there is nothing left. Eldwyn’s greed made it a graveyard. What do you think your desperation will do?”

He raised his hand, and the shadows around him came alive, twisting into monstrous shapes with glowing eyes and razor-sharp claws.

“Run,” Mira said under her breath, gripping her staff tightly.

“Mira—”

“Run!” she shouted.

I should have stayed. I should have fought. But I ran.

She stood her ground, her staff blazing with light as she tore through the shadows. Her magic burned brighter and brighter, her figure glowing like a star against the darkness.

Then I heard her scream.

I stopped running. I turned just in time to see her fall, her staff clattering to the ground as the shadows swarmed her.

Leo stepped over her as if she were nothing.

“She believed she could change the world,” he said, his voice cold. “But all she brought was her fear.”

I didn’t think. I just ran to the Well.

The light was blinding, searing through me the moment I touched it. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t kind. It ripped through every part of me, dragging me into something vast and endless.

When it was over, the shadows were gone. Mira was gone.

Leo was gone too, but the silence left behind wasn’t comforting. It was hollow.

The Well shimmered quietly, its surface rippling as though nothing had happened.

And then I understood.

Mira had wanted to save the world. Leo had wanted to own it. And me? I just wanted to survive.

The Well gave exactly what it took. Mira’s hope. Leo’s greed. My fear. All amplified, all consuming, until nothing was left but me.

I stood there, staring into the light, and I heard her voice in my head:

“Don’t you want something better?”

I thought I did. But the truth? The truth is, I didn’t.

Because when I looked into the Well, I didn’t see salvation. I saw my own face staring back at me. And I realized I hadn’t escaped the curse.

I’d become it.