The Higher Plain Ch 23: The Seal That Was Never Meant to Hold!

The moment my body hit the earth, the whole world shook. The forest beneath me didn't stand a chance—hundreds of trees snapped like twigs be

The moment my body hit the earth, the whole world shook.

The forest beneath me didn't stand a chance—hundreds of trees snapped like twigs beneath the weight of my falling form. My backside flattened acres of green into nothing but splinters and crushed soil, and the shockwave of my impact spread for miles. I could feel the earth crack beneath me, rolling out in every direction like thunder splitting stone.

A second earthquake. One born from me.

A great, violent wind screamed across the land as towering clouds of dust and ash erupted around me. It was chaos. I couldn't see anything. Could barely hear through the roar of my own heartbeat. But what I could feel—oh, gods—was the pain.

The black tentacle around my leg was no longer just restraining me. It was burning me.

"Ahh—gghh—!" I groaned through gritted teeth, thrashing against it as best I could. Every place that slimy, writhing thing touched turned into searing agony, like acid was etching its way into my very bones. My skin, usually so resilient, so unyielding, felt like it was being peeled back layer by layer.

And it didn't stop at my legs.

Tendrils surged forward, binding my arms, my waist, and chest. I squirmed beneath its grip, fingers clawing into the ground, leaving trenches deeper than city streets. My whole body tensed, but no matter how I writhed, the grip only tightened. I could feel my size dwindling, my strength waning, like this thing was feeding on me.

Then... I heard it.

A voice.

Not a voice of a beast, not a screech or snarl. A presence inside my head—cold, ancient, cruel.

"I know you, daughter of the bloodline. The Xylarion child born of the high King. I see your veins, I smell your flame."

My heart stopped.

"I've waited long for this. Waited beneath stone, behind seals, through centuries of silence. And now, I return—to finish what your Father began."

My mind reeled.

"No," I whispered, my voice echoing even through the thunder and wind. "No... this can't be. That name... it can't be you."

I remembered the stories.

Tales whispered by all those on my kingdom. Legends carved into the the very land of both worlds. Of the One Morvren who was never killed—only sealed. The apex predator. The Corruption Incarnate.

"Vorlith..."

That name twisted my insides. My lips trembled as I spoke it, the disbelief staining my breath. "The seal was supposed to last forever!"

"Forever?" the voice echoed, amused. "A quaint word. A lie the living tell themselves so they may sleep at night. But there is no forever. There is only delay. And now, the wait is over."

A tentacle coiled up, slithering along my neck, squeezing, choking off my air. I gasped, struggling to tear it away, but my fingers slipped across its oozing, putrid surface.

I wasn't just fighting a Morvren.

I was fighting the Morvren.

Panic gripped me tighter than any tentacle. And then—

"Hey! Over here, ugly!"

The voice shattered through the madness like a crack of lightning.

My eyes shot downward, through the blur of pain and dust. There—at the edge of a broken ledge of shattered earth—stood a tiny speck of a man.

Krelzor.

My heart nearly stopped.

He looked so small, standing there against the broken horizon. So utterly fragile. A lone figure in a ruined battlefield, waving his arms to draw the beast's attention. My breath caught in my throat—not just from the tentacle squeezing it, but from pure, unfiltered dread.

"Krelzor!" I tried to scream, but it came out as a muffled sound.

Another tentacle lashed across my face and wrapped around my mouth, silencing me. I could barely breathe. My eyes watered from the pressure, and still, I fought, tearing at the bindings, struggling with everything I had.

"Ah... you care for that one," the voice cooed, with sick satisfaction. "A mortal. So small. So breakable. Then allow me to reward your sentiment... by ending him myself."

No.

NO.

I bucked against the darkness, my whole body twisting like a wild storm. I could feel the tendrils digging deeper into me, feeding on my fear, my anger—but I didn't care. I couldn't care.

Because I saw it.

One of the monstrous tentacles peeled away from my chest and slithered toward Krelzor.

Fast.

Too fast.

He didn't run. He just stood there, jaw clenched, hands at his sides like he was ready to throw himself at it with a damn toothpick if that's what it took.

"No..." I thought. I screamed it in my mind, in my soul. My vision blurred with rage and terror.

The creature was going to kill him—because of me.

Not again. Not another life.

I won't let you take him.

I don't care what you are.

I don't care how big you are.

I don't care if you were sealed for a thousand years.

I. Will. Not. Lose. Him.

And then—something in me changed.

Just like before.

Bigger, I needed to get bigger.

I felt myself rising.

And the ground beneath me began to quake again.

***

(Krelzor) 

Okay, yeah—I should've run.

Like, really run. Like my pants on fire, legs flailing, arms windmilling, old-man-screaming-into-the-sunset kinda run. I'm not a soldier. I'm not a warrior. I'm not even particularly brave. I'm a farmer. I used to yell at squirrels for digging up my carrots and feel like I'd won a war.

And yet here I am.

Flat on my back. In the middle of a godsforsaken battlefield. Staring death in the face. My ribs hurt. My lungs are burning. And you know what? Part of me wants to just lay here and hope that this is all just one long, horrific dream. Maybe I hit my head on a low branch a week ago and none of this is real.

But I know it is. Oh, gods, I know.

I heard the voice. That awful, slithering thing in the air like poison given sound. I saw the black tentacles climbing over Faylina like vines trying to crush the sun. I saw her fall. I saw the thing—Vorlith, or whatever it calls itself—wrap its disgusting grip around her.

I should've run. I could have.

But I didn't.

Because... because it was her. Faylina.

And somehow—somehow—I couldn't leave her.

Even when my knees were shaking. Even when my mind was screaming at me to go. Even when every part of me said you can't do anything, you're just a man. I stayed.

Because that's what you do when someone matters.

So here I am. Flat on the ground, my face pressed against shattered stone and splintered roots, coughing dust out of my throat like I swallowed a chimney.

And then—everything changed.

The light around me vanished. Just gone, snuffed out like someone had taken a giant curtain and pulled it across the sky.

I opened my eyes and looked up—and what I saw wasn't the sky anymore. It was a face.

But not just any face.

Faylina's.

My breath caught in my throat.

Her head—massive, unimaginable—pushed through the thick, roiling clouds, parting them like mist, revealing the impossible scale of her. She wasn't just big now—she was mountain-sized. No, bigger. The trees below her knees looked like twigs. The forest around her ankles? A patch of moss.

Her hair whipped in the wind like rivers of silk, dark and endless. Her eyes—those same soft eyes I'd seen up close—now glowed faintly with some ancient, radiant fire. And her expression... gods, her expression. Fierce, determined, afraid.

She was looking down.

At me.

And even though she probably couldn't see me—just a little dot in the rubble—I couldn't help it.

"Faylina..." I breathed, my voice nearly lost in the wind.

The woman I once fed porridge to. The one who fell asleep by my fireplace. The one who once blushed when I caught her staring too long at a rooster (okay, that sounds weird out loud but it made sense at the time).

She was a goddess now. Or close enough to make no difference.

And I... I was still just Krelzor. Just a guy with sore knees and bad timing.

I swallowed hard and kept staring up, my heart pounding in my ears. The sheer weight of her, the presence, it was almost too much. Like trying to comprehend a living landscape that was breathing.

But still, somehow, somewhere inside me, I felt that same warmth I always did when I saw her.

She was still Faylina. Still the one who'd saved me. And still the one I refused to abandon.

Even if the world ended around us. Even if I was nothing more than a speck at her feet.

I clenched my fists, trying to summon courage from... well, thin air.

Because honestly?

I didn't know what was coming next.

But I knew who I was standing with.

And that was enough.