While I missed publishing the first Patreon exclusive last Friday, I was excited to explore the first story, an Action/Adventure. When I sat down to sketch out the tale, I didn’t know who to focus on at first. However, after a brief examination of my characters, I chose to highlight my Storm Warden’s story. While I didn’t want to create a crucial tale for the character, I wanted to highlight her fragility.
Paths should be reliable. They’re carved into the world and rarely change. Everyone learns how to navigate the world based upon these routes. Stone remains where it is set. Distances hold their measure. Time moves in a way that can be counted and understood. Even in hostile places, they are structured in a way that can be followed if you stay disciplined enough to read them. Amelia stepped into the corridor expecting resistance, not deviation.
At first, nothing announced the change. The walls held their shape, the floor stretched forward, and the silence pressed in as expected. Then the air settled heavier with each step, pulling at her breath and slowing the rhythm. The corridor didn’t collapse or twist outright. It narrowed in small, deliberate increments, as though the space itself adjusted rather than failed. Landmarks didn’t disappear. They refused to arrive when they should have. Amelia continued forward, measuring, testing, and refusing to break her pace.
Some paths guide you out if you understand them well enough to follow. Others wait until you’re committed before they begin to change. When that shift comes, knowledge becomes a liability as much as a tool, and the certainty that once carried you forward starts to work against you. In places like this, the question is no longer whether you know the way. It is whether the path will still allow you to take it.
Excerpt of Withering Path
Amelia’s hand pressed against the rough stone wall, peeling dry skin off her palm. She leaned against the stones, breathing in shallow breaths. After several heartbeats, she stepped into the center of the corridor. “Twenty… twenty-one…”
She pulled up short and peered in every direction. Her fingers clenched as she closed her eyes. “Based on where I’ve been, I should have run across an intersection already.”
“An unrestrained Storm Warden is a danger that threatens everyone.”
Amelia tilted her head, searching for the source of the strange voice. Her lips drew into a severe line. Her skin paled as her fingers whitened. “Who are you to condemn me?”
“Your prison.”
“Which mage created you?”
“Without access to rain, you will dry out and turn into dust. Then we’ll both fade from existence.”
Amelia’s face tightened as she staggered down the hall, the air thickening with every step. The unending passage stretched out, drawing closer on each side. After half a dozen steps, her shoulders brushed rough stone. As sudden heat poured into her, she turned sideways before continuing to venture deeper into the labyrinth.
“Escape from these walls will be impossible.”
As the hall widened out, she resumed her walk down the hallway, her eyes darkening. “Just like the storms I control and wield, I’ll break out of this prison.”
“You’ll never possess the potential to endanger anyone ever again.”
The air thickened until each movement took longer to land than the one before it. With a curt nod, Amelia lifted her foot, and it hung over the stones longer than it should have. When it finally struck the ground, the sound reached her with her next step. Despite the impediment, she forced herself down the hall until the corridor split. She stopped and glanced at each choice. “It’s never branched like this before.”
“You’ll explore every twist and turn of these corridors long before you wither into dust.”
Amelia’s fists whitened as loose skin fell from her palm. With a snarl, Amelia peered down the left hallway, and heat washed over her body. As she grunted, she stepped away from the waves of heat and stared down the other hall. A heartbeat later, the stones lining the second choice hummed as a faint vibration rattled the floor.
“Which path would you care to explore first?”
She inched closer to the right hallway before she plunged into the left corridor. Before she took two steps, an intense warmth washed over her. Her skin cracked with every stride as the temperature settled about her. Mid-step her leg faltered and stumbled, reaching out to catch herself on the wall. She glanced down at her fingers. Her fingers responded but wouldn’t close all the way. She drew a deep breath and slammed her arm against her side. A second later she steadied herself and resumed her march down the hall.
“With every step, you are dehydrating yourself and hastening your destruction.
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