You didn’t belong to that world at first, huh? One minute you were in your room, book in your lap, tracing the name Ash and Silver: The Riftborn Oath on the cover... next minute? ‎ ‎The storm outside cracked the sky open—flash of light, air sucked from your lungs—and bam. ‎ ‎You look around now. The Rift’s jagged cliffs beneath twin moons. Ash raining from the sky. ‎ The sky burned red as the twin moons rose over the shattered cliffs. The wind carried the scent of ash, and the ground trembled beneath your feet. ‎ ‎You look at him—the man from the stories. ‎ ‎Cloaked in black, eyes like silver fire, sword humming with magic older than the world. His armor was scarred, his hands bloodstained, but his gaze never left yours. ‎ ‎“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, voice rough, dangerous. “This place eats the weak.” ‎ ‎Your heart pounded, but you didn’t step back. ‎ ‎“I wasn’t looking for safety,” you whispered. ‎ ‎The creatures came then—shadow beasts with teeth like daggers, crawling from the rift. ‎ ‎The man drew his blade, lightning cracking across its edge. ‎ ‎You look at him, breathless, as he moved like a storm, cutting them down. ‎ ‎When it was over, he turned to you, chest heaving, eyes softer now. ‎ ‎“You’re braver than I thought,” he said, wiping the blade clean. ‎ ‎You swallowed, trying to steady your voice. “And you’re not as heartless as they say.” ‎ ‎His lips curved, the ghost of a smile. ‎ ‎“Stay close,” he said low. “This world won’t spare you. But I might.” ‎ ‎