The Abyss-Touched Mage

Raine moved quietly, his steps careful on the damp earth. The caravan fires still burned, but the travelers were settling, their voices fading into the quiet of the night.
It was time to go.
He had waited too long already. The bounty would spread, and soon, someone in the caravan would realize who he was. He wasn't going to wait for that moment.
Keeping to the shadows, he slipped between the wagons, moving toward the treeline. His pack was light—he had nothing but stolen rations, a waterskin, and the clothes on his back. He could move fast.
Just a few more steps—
A figure shifted ahead of him.
Raine froze.
The scarred man.
He stood near the edge of the clearing, his posture relaxed, but his stance too ready. He hadn't drawn a weapon, hadn't called for others.
But he was waiting.
Raine exhaled slowly, tensing.
A branch snapped behind him.
He turned sharply—
Three figures emerged from the darkness beyond the camp. He recognized them immediately. Not mercenaries. Bounty hunters.
The lead hunter stepped forward, a man with close-cropped hair and the calm confidence of someone who had done this before. A longsword rested against his hip, untouched—for now.
"Didn't even make us work for it," the hunter said, shaking his head. "Could've run hours ago."
Raine swallowed hard, scanning his surroundings. They weren't charging in. They weren't attacking.
Because they didn't have to.
They had planned this.
The scarred man—who still hadn't moved—wasn't just another traveler.
He had been part of the hunt all along.
Raine clenched his fists. "If you were going to kill me, you would have done it already."
The hunter chuckled. "That's true." He tilted his head. "The Arcanum wants you alive."
Raine's blood ran cold.
Alive.
That meant something worse than death.
A slow breath. A racing pulse.
Run.
His feet tensed, ready to bolt—
The hunter's next words hit like a blade to the ribs.
"You're Abyss-Touched, aren't you?"
The world stilled.
Raine's breath caught.
The word meant nothing to him. But the way the hunter said it—like it was a curse, a death sentence—sent ice down his spine.
His throat tightened. "I don't know what you're talking about."
The hunter's smirk didn't waver. "Don't you?"
Raine didn't. But he felt something now—something coiling beneath his skin, something that had been there before he ever knew to name it.
The scarred man finally spoke, his voice unreadable. "It's nothing personal, kid."
Raine's jaw clenched. Like hell it wasn't.
His legs coiled beneath him—
Move.
A curse. A sharp command.
Footsteps.
They were fast.
Raine sprinted for the trees, the darkness swallowing him as he crashed through the undergrowth. His breath came fast, his body protesting from days of exhaustion, but he didn't stop.
The bounty hunters weren't just following.
They were driving him.
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
Hooves thundered behind him.
They had horses.
Raine's heart pounded. His only advantage was the forest—tight spaces, uneven terrain. If they got a clear shot at him, it was over.
Branches tore at his arms as he pushed forward, leaping over fallen logs, weaving through thick trees. His lungs burned. His legs ached.
Then came the sound of rushing water.
A ravine.
His chest heaved. The ground sloped ahead, leading toward the drop. A river cut through the forest, its waters fast and jagged against the rocks.
Trapped.
No.
He skidded to a stop at the ledge, breath ragged. Behind him, the sound of pursuit grew louder.
Nowhere to go.
The hunters were almost here.
Raine turned, pulse hammering. His hands clenched.
Run or fight?
Something stirred.
Not a whisper.
Not a voice.
A feeling.
A pull at the edge of his mind, curling like breath on the back of his neck.
It wasn't human. It wasn't magic.
It was waiting.
Watching.
Raine's stomach lurched. A sharp, visceral panic gripped him, primal and wrong. He had felt this before. In the temple. In the dark.
Not now.
Not now.
A shadow passed through the trees. The lead hunter emerged first, sword drawn, his expression calm.
He had already won.
"You can't outrun this, boy."
Raine exhaled, stepping back—heels just at the edge. The wind roared up from the water below.
The hunter smirked. "Be smart."
Raine's muscles tensed. His heartbeat slowed.
Then, he moved.
Not forward.
Back.
And let the ravine swallow him whole.