Chapter 109: A Light in the Dark
The sky above churned in shades of ash and bronze as Elara and Ariella pushed forward. Each step toward the Hollow of Echoes was a battle. The forest had turned hostile.
Trees twisted unnaturally, groaning as if woken from a long, bitter sleep. Branches reached down like claws, tangling in Elara's hair and yanking at Ariella's cloak. The ground trembled beneath them, cracking open in sudden, jagged bursts. They narrowly dodged a yawning pit that opened beneath their feet, scrambling across a ledge of rock as the chasm swallowed ancient roots and debris whole.
"Elara," Ariella gasped, her hand pressed tightly against her side. Her wound, though bound, bled anew. Her skin had gone pale, sweat coating her forehead. "I… can't… hold on."
"You have to," Elara panted, catching her before she collapsed. "We're almost through. Just a little further."
But the forest wasn't done. Wind whipped through the trees, howling with a voice that wasn't human. Vines uncoiled like serpents, slashing through the air. A gnarled trunk cracked open with a sound like a scream, revealing a hollow filled with writhing shadows.
They stumbled to a small clearing—a rare gap in the chaos—falling to their knees. Elara's hands trembled as she tried to channel her magic into Ariella's wound. But her power flickered, too drained, too weak.
"I can't heal you," she said, her voice breaking. "I've tried everything."
Ariella coughed, crimson staining her lips. "My strength… it's slipping. We're not going to make it like this."
Then Elara did something she hadn't done in a long time.
She looked to the sky, and screamed, "Queens of light! Please—we need you!"
A moment passed. Nothing.
Then, the clouds above them stirred, parting slightly.
From that rupture, two distinct beams—one blue, one white—spilled into the sky like waterfalls of light. The storm seemed to pause. A calm silence descended as the lights spiraled together, forming a glowing partition high above.
A voice echoed down from the glow, warm and radiant.
"Elara. Ariella. You have called… and now we may answer."
The girls stared upward, shielding their eyes. The voices were not in their heads. They rang clearly from the sky—familiar, maternal, powerful.
"You can speak to us?" Elara whispered, awe washing over her.
"Visions no longer suffice. Your bond has grown. Now, when the clouds open, our voices will reach you."
"Please," Ariella begged, "I can't go further like this. I—"
Before she could finish, a wave of light—half blue, half white—rushed from the partition. It tumbled down like a blessing, sweeping over the clearing and engulfing the girls in gentle warmth.
Elara's eyes stung with light. Ariella let out a breathless gasp.
When the light faded, Ariella sat up. The wound on her side was gone. Her cheeks flushed with color again, and her breathing steadied. She flexed her fingers in disbelief. "I... I feel whole again."
"Let this gift carry you to the final gate," the Queens said, voices already fading. "What awaits you is not just a battle of strength, but of soul."
The clouds slowly closed, the light dimming.
The forest stilled.
The girls rose, renewed. Without hesitation, they ran.
---
As they crested the final hill before the Hollow, the air turned bitter and metallic. Ash rained like snowflakes. A faint trail of smoke curled near a crumbled tree.
"Elara," Ariella whispered, pointing.
Osric knelt at the path's edge, blood staining his robes. His limbs trembled as his body disintegrated slowly—dust and light scattering from his skin like ash in the wind.
"Osric!" Elara rushed to him, catching his arm. It faded in her grip. "No—no, hold on!"
He smiled faintly, eyes soft with acceptance.
"This time," he said, voice barely above a breath, "I choose not to watch. I choose… to fall… so you may rise."
Elara tried to hold onto him, but his hand turned to powder. The wind stole the rest. Her fingers closed around empty air.
All that remained was silence.
---
Meanwhile, deep within the Hollow of Echoes…
Seraphina knelt beside the altar, her hands trembling. The pendant glowed faintly in the mist surrounding her.
Across from her, the Shadow loomed. No longer a man, but a storm of darkness, whispering with a hundred voices.
"You have done well," it rasped. "And for your loyalty… a reward."
From the smoke, a figure began to form.
Seraphina's breath caught.
"Laxman…" she whispered.
A faint image of a man emerged. Dark curls. Gentle eyes. A smile she hadn't seen in what felt like lifetimes.
Her heart ached. Tears spilled down her cheeks as the Shadow whispered again, "One soul, restored. Your beloved. Just say the word."
She closed her eyes—and remembered.
---
Long before the darkness...
They had lain beneath a sky of stars, his hand brushing hers.
"We'll leave this place," Laxman had said. "Start again. Somewhere the war can't reach us."
They had been healers once, tending the wounded, believing the world could be better.
But war came anyway. Their village burned. Their pleas for help unanswered. They had fled into the deadlands—only to be caught by something worse.
The endless night. The agony. The bargain.
The Shadow had promised an end to the suffering… in exchange for their service.
Laxman had resisted.
Seraphina had broken.
She signed the deal to save him—only for the Shadow to tear him from her anyway.
Back in the present…
"I did it for you," she whispered. "I thought if I served long enough… if I obeyed… I could bring you back."
Laxman's image looked at her with mournful eyes. No words. Just silence.
But Seraphina understood.
If he returned now… he would not be the same. The Shadow would twist him. Control him. Use him.
"No," she whispered. "Not like this."
The image flickered.
"I want you alive," she said, weeping. "But I want you free more."
The Shadow hissed, its voice now cruel. "You spurn my gift?"
"I made a mistake once," Seraphina said. "I won't make another."
The shadows surged, furious. But she stood her ground.
"I know what I've become," she said, more to herself than to him. "But if I can stop this now… maybe that means something."
---
At the Hollow's edge…
The girls finally arrived.
The jagged altar pulsed with eerie light. Seraphina turned, facing them—eyes rimmed red, but clear for the first time in ages.
"You're here," she said softly.
Elara raised the orb Osric had given her. "And we're ending this."
Above them, thunder cracked. The altar blazed with growing power.
And beneath their feet, the ground gave a long, guttural groan — like the churning of something ancient, as if the earth itself was cooking up a rising storm.