Note: This is a sequel to Shattered Line. Otherwise, enjoy!

https://www.wattpad.com/story/52953791-shattered-line

Darkness shrouded an endless abyss. A center point abandoned by light and forgotten by time. Even her naked eyes that adjusted to the gloom, fought a vain, unbearable war to grasp traces unknown to her.

The shadows cloaked everything and anything with perfection. They obscured her senses, proving unyielding and exceedingly punishable as she gasped for hope.

Yes, Isla hoped.

At first, she dreamed of light piercing the desolate hold chaining her down. How the warmth would spread like a warm summer's day alleviating the burden clamping her mouth shut. Yet, her shallow dreams were shattered and severed to pieces. Not because time betrayed her stubbornness, but because she knew, she'd been here before.

When had this been? Was this a nightmare of her own creation? The spatial void devoured her movements but neglected the removal of her thoughts. Did this mean she lived?

Rather than think, she also remembered.

Each minuscule fragment she collected from the afterlife, together they merged, melding into one. A single entity, strong and vibrant. The surface reflected her past, traversing to moments before her death.

She felt her story's chaotic emotions whirl to existence. The pain. The anger and hate. An unapproachable sadness swelled inside her from the last image of her father. His transformation from crazed to sane overwhelmed the profound hostility his presence incited. How could she forget the resurrection of his heart-wrenching light? The birth of parental love gleaming like undiscovered gems within the depths of his multi-toned irises.

Yet, he was dead. The truth rang hollow.

The single gift he bestowed her—besides life—was the memory of triumph. She won. Isla watched his essence seep from his bones and drain from his eyes. His soul vanished into the streams of death, leaving an empty vessel to wither and mourn.

Still, the craved victory wrought boundless emptiness. She yearned for this end, but now what?

Did the absence of desire shackle her mind? Was this awkward bleakness destroying her perception of reality? Perhaps death truly engulfed her being.

Though the darkness was infinite, her instincts appealed to her better senses. She lived.

This entrapment had a purpose, small but redundant. She'd been here before, the thought repeated. Finally, a part of her mind apprehended this essential truth. She secured her footing, and reality blossomed forth like a phoenix's rebirth. Her escape was destined. The restraints barring her release were destroyed, and the impenetrable tomb blocking her vision cracked. Light breached the confines, coalescing and dissolving her isolation.

The rays purified the desolate hold, invigorating warmth throughout her body. A surge of excitement to her senses sparked her existence. The connection from mind to muscle and the voluntary thought of movement were natural. Yet, like a newborn, the interplay for Isla was unfamiliar but adventurous.

Her surroundings transformed to a myriad strew of luminescent colors. Golden light diverged into fiery crimson counterbalanced by rich lavender. A short-lived remarkable sight, for the arrangement mutated into unrivaled cacophony.

Isla watched, static and unflinching at the color's evolution. Their disorder became harmonic as structure instituted itself amongst her vivid escape. Round transparent apparitions spluttered to life, floating an aimless routine. Isla reached for the enchanting illusion, her fingers dabbed the droplets. Her touch popped the bubble into countless miniature replicas. The wet bodies cold against her skin.

She sighed, relishing the moment. Yet, paradise was brief, her lungs drowned and broiled. She snapped her mouth shut and kicked against the force stifling her life.

With a fervent drive, she burst through the placid water surface, spraying the land with crystal dew. She heaved herself onto land. The tall blades of grass slicked against her face and dirt matted to her palms. She gasped for air, her body toiling to fill the emptiness.

Her muscles twitched and spasmed. How long had she been underwater? When did she fall into the pond? Her head pounded from the search. Each cell constituting her body resisted her collection, flinging her body into paranoia.

"How much time do you plan to waste?" a voice cajoled.

Isla growled, her head jolting upwards with pain ransacking her body. Her gaze latched onto the source—Skye. He strolled towards her through an opening in the forest's shroud. The man her father had favored and manipulated to enact his plans. Straight snow-white hair tumbled down his back paired with golden halos. His unique appearance was embellished by a strong frame. Heavenly, if one veered past the thorn riddled path of suffering he bestowed upon her.

"You." Isla coughed as the word ignited an inferno and constriction within her throat.

Skye stood above her, his shadow thwarting the sunlight's appearance.

Isla rolled over, staring up at him with a straightforward and unyielding gaze. "Where are we?" Her voice hitched, followed by another cough.

"Outside Bartez. Do you not remember dying?" His brow creased and he crossed his arms.

Unlike her father, her death had been swift. The magic drain had exhausted her body further reducing her torment as she met the water underside of Elysium.

"That doesn't explain how I got here." She motioned to the pond with her head. "Elysium and Bartez are on opposite sides of the Mortal realm. And I don't remember gaining a new body. Care to explain?" she sniped.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the forest behind him. Skye's outlook hovered in search, but of what Isla couldn't fathom.

He returned his attention to her, his bearing unperturbed by his prior action. "You created it yourself."

Laughter erupted from Isla's breast but soon transitioned into an uncontrollable hack. She rolled onto her side, hugging her chest. What the hell was wrong? Each cough squeezed her lungs to shambles, the strength akin to thunderbolts electrifying her body. The surge delivered a moment's paralysis, enough to stimulate concern.

"Impossible," she heaved out. How could she create a body for her soul?

"Is it? Or would it explain your pathetic state."

"If you came here to mock me then leave. Your King is dead. You have no reason to chase and torment the living daylights out of me." She gasped for air, using the pause to soften her next words. "Don't come near me. Death follows in your wake."

"You're afraid?"

Isla subdued the snarl reverberating in her throat. How dare he. If she weren't stitched to the ground, her aura would be morphing the earth into pikes. Yet, a subtle part of her being regretted the idea. She rejected the notion that she cared. Skye was a threat, much like her father. But, unlike her father, Skye spared her life. Where did she draw the line damning them together?

She returned his sundering gaze, cooling the scorching heat the connection provoked. Isla observed his stone mask, could her words crack the mold he forged for himself?

"Get lost," she spoke, collective and loud. "We share nothing but a troubled past. One better off forgotten."

His brow creased and his tone grew harsh. "Except, that's where you're wrong. Killing your father was just the beginning. Thanks to your efforts, the Gods are now split and searching for a new leader. He might have been a monster, but at least he kept the horde in check."

"Oh, please," Isla mocked. "He never kept you fools in check. You pillaged, killed and raped at his pleasure. Don't act like it was better before his death."

He sighed, long and heavy. "You've only seen the surface. Do you think age has made you wise and all-knowing?"

Isla sat up, cringing from the fire exploding in her chest. "So you expect me to believe there's something worse than him?"

"Yes, you distracted him, much like your mother."

"Enough. What do you really want? I want nothing to do with the Gods."

His gaze intensified, the gold becoming vibrant and glistening. Skye's lips parted, but no sound formed. After a pause, his voice broke the silence. "Become our leader. Become the King of Gods."