“Elyssara!” Kael’s voice cuts through the haze, dragging me back to the present. My head jerks up, the image of my parents fading in fractured pieces, but the weight of the memory still claws at my chest.
Around me, the others are locked in their own battles against the illusions. Therion’s axe swings wildly, his breaths coming in ragged gasps, while Seren has collapsed to her knees, her trembling hands clutching at her temples. Ronyn is the only one who seems unshaken, his bow drawn, his sharp gaze scanning the chamber.
And then, the air shifts. It thickens, grows colder, like the breath of something ancient brushing against the back of my neck.
A low growl echoes through the chamber, guttural and resonant, making the stone walls tremble. Shadows, once clinging to the edges of the room, begin to coalesce. They twist and churn like ink spilled in water, pooling together into vague, shifting shapes. At first, they are formless, their edges rippling and unstable. But then they solidify.
Figures step out of the darkness, human but wrong. Their faces are blank voids, smooth and featureless, yet they exude a menace that sends a chill down my spine. Their limbs are elongated, their movements unnervingly fluid as they advance. Some wield weapons—swords, spears, axes—while others simply flex clawed hands, their sharp tips glinting in the faint light of the runes.
“They’re forming! Strike!” Therion growls, his voice edged with fury. He spins, his axe cleaving through one of the shapes. It shatters like glass, dark shards scattering before evaporating into nothing. But for every one he destroys, two more seem to rise from the shadows in its place.
Kael is already moving, his twin swords a blur of silver as they slice through the encroaching figures. His movements are deadly and precise, his strikes surgical. One of the figures lunges at him with a spear, but Kael sidesteps with predatory grace, his sword slashing through its torso in one smooth arc. The figure dissolves into shadow, but Kael doesn’t pause, already pivoting to face the next threat.
“Stay close to me!” he shouts, his voice cutting through the chaos.
Seren lets out a strangled cry as one of the figures closes in on her. Her wide, tear-streaked eyes dart around frantically, her breath shallow and panicked. The creature lunges, claws outstretched, slicing into Seren’s flesh above her knee but Ronyn’s arrow finds its mark immediately, piercing through its head. The shadowy form collapses, writhing for a moment before shattering.
“Get up, Seren!” Ronyn calls, his tone sharp but not unkind. “Keep moving!”
Seren, clutching at her leg, stands on shaky feet and seeks safety behind Ronyn.
Therion is surrounded now, three of the figures circling him like wolves around wounded prey. He swings his axe in a broad arc, keeping them at bay, but one manages to slip through his defense. Its clawed hand rakes across his arm, drawing a thin line of blood. Therion snarls, turning on it with a vicious strike that obliterates the creature, but the effort leaves him open.
Another figure lunges, its jagged blade aimed directly at his chest.
Ronyn moves before I can even shout a warning. He leaps into the fray, his dagger flashing as it intercepts the shadow’s blade mere inches from Therion’s chest. With a deft twist, Ronyn plunges his dagger into the creature’s neck, and it collapses into smoke.
Therion stumbles back, his breathing heavy, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and something softer—gratitude. He nods at Ronyn, a silent acknowledgment, before turning back to the fight.
I barely register the moment as another figure barrels toward me, its clawed hand swiping for my throat. I duck, my daggers flashing as I drive them upward into its midsection. The creature lets out a piercing screech before disintegrating, but I don’t have time to catch my breath. More are coming, their movements relentless and unyielding.
Kael is a whirlwind of destruction, his swords carving through the shadows like they’re nothing more than mist. Yet even he begins to falter, the endless tide of enemies wearing him down. His chest heaves with exertion, sweat slicking his brow, but his movements remain precise, calculated. He’s fighting for all of us, and he knows it.
The blade’s pull grows stronger, a burning urgency in my chest that drives me forward despite the chaos. I dodge another swipe, my heart pounding as the tug leads me toward the center of the chamber. The shadows press in from all sides, their guttural growls filling the air, but I don’t stop. I can’t stop.
“Elyssara!” Kael shouts again, his voice raw with desperation. He’s fighting to reach me, cutting down everything in his path, but the creatures are relentless.
“I’m going for the blade!” I yell back, my voice barely audibleover the cacophony. The blade’s presence is undeniable now, a beacon of light in the overwhelming darkness. It’s close. So close.
The shadows seem to understand my intent, their movements growing more frenzied, more violent. They’re trying to stop me, to keep me from the blade.My blade. But their desperation only fuels my resolve. Vengeance is my battle cry.
The blade calls to me, its song resonating through my very bones, and I know—this is my destiny.
The pull only grows stronger with every step, an unrelenting force that feels as though it’s tugging at my very soul. The illusions press harder, the shadowed forms converging like a tide determined to drown me before I can reach it. My breaths come fast and shallow, my arms trembling from the endless swings of my daggers, but I keep moving.
I’m so close.
Kael’s voice cuts through the chaos again, raw and desperate. “Elyssara, move!” He’s still cutting through the shadowed forms with relentless precision, but even he looks like he’s beginning to tire.
The blade’s call strengthens, drowning out everything else. My vision narrows, the chamber blurring at the edges as I lock on to the pedestal. It’s there. Gleaming. Perfect.Mine.
A figure lunges at me, its jagged blade glinting in the eerie light, but I sidestep at the last second, driving my dagger into its side. The shadow screeches, its form shattering into shards, but another takes its place almost instantly.
I’m enveloped in ink-black shadows, surrounding me without touching me—there is a clear tunnel void of shadows between me and my blade. A clear path.Kael’s magic.I start moving forward and realize the otherworldly howls and screeches of the overwhelming number of attackers in the underground chamber go completely silent.
“Go, El!” Ronyn yells. “We’ve got this!”
“Touch the blade, El—everything will stop,” Seren shouts to me through the shadow magic blocking my view of the others.
