Amarah
Mentor of faith, bound to the Spawn’s will
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The weight of the dagger felt heavier than it should have.
Its metal was cool, reverent somehow, resting in their hands as if it belonged there, as if it had been waiting for them long before they were ever chosen. Amarah stood opposite them, composed and unwavering, their presence filling the space without movement.
They had devoted everything for it, their time, their faith, their silence, so the Spawn would grant them a second life, now facing the opportunity to claim it. They had listened when doubt was called immaturity, when fear was named resistance. They had believed. And yet. Their grip tightened. Their breath caught.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to feel. Images surfaced unbidden, laughter, shared secrets, a familiar voice that had never asked them to be anything other than human. Their best friend’s face refused to leave their mind, no matter how fervently they tried to pray it away. What would Spawn think of this hesitation? Tears started pricking at the corners of their eyes as they looked up at Amarah. Their voice trembled despite themselves.
This is the final step,Amarah said quietly.
The door you have been preparing to walk through.A second life.
They had devoted everything for it, their time, their faith, their silence, so the Spawn would grant them a second life, now facing the opportunity to claim it. They had listened when doubt was called immaturity, when fear was named resistance. They had believed. And yet. Their grip tightened. Their breath caught.
This wasn’t how it was supposed to feel. Images surfaced unbidden, laughter, shared secrets, a familiar voice that had never asked them to be anything other than human. Their best friend’s face refused to leave their mind, no matter how fervently they tried to pray it away. What would Spawn think of this hesitation? Tears started pricking at the corners of their eyes as they looked up at Amarah. Their voice trembled despite themselves.
..Is there really no other way?