Chapter 107: The Fracture and the Fire
The forest trembled.
Leaves shuddered on their branches, and the wind held its breath as Seraphina lunged forward, twin blades drawn, her cloak billowing like a shadow torn from the night. There was no trace of mercy in her expression now—no flicker of doubt in her eyes. The Seraphina they once knew had vanished. In her place stood a soldier forged by pain, bound by darkness.
Elara's breath caught. The rhythm of her heartbeat rose with each swing of Seraphina's blades, and she barely managed to twist aside as steel sliced through the space she had just occupied.
"She's not holding back," Ariella hissed, ducking beneath a sweeping arc that would have opened her throat.
"She's under orders," Elara replied, her voice strained, sweat dripping down her brow. "She's not herself."
But even as she spoke, Elara wasn't sure anymore. Was this Seraphina's choice? Or simply the Shadow's command?
From beneath her tunic, the pendant pulsed—a faint but persistent warmth that defied the chaos around them. It shimmered, not with raw magic, but something deeper. Something personal. It reminded her of Mira's laughter, of moonlit nights with Albert, of the days when things weren't broken.
Seraphina's blade slashed again—this time toward Ariella.
Elara's eyes widened. "Ariella!"
Too late.
The blade kissed Ariella's side, slicing fabric and flesh. Blood bloomed instantly, spreading through her tunic like a crimson flower. Ariella staggered back with a sharp cry, her knees folding beneath her.
"No!" Elara dropped beside her, skidding in the dirt as if distance alone could protect them. She caught Ariella just before she collapsed.
Ariella grimaced, pressing a hand to the wound. "I'm okay," she breathed, though her voice trembled. "Just… don't let her get the pendant."
Elara's fingers clenched around the chain at her neck, her chest heaving.
"Mira," she whispered. "Please. Help us. Help me."
The pendant ignited.
A brilliant flare shot outward—not harsh like lightning, but warm and alive, like the rising sun spilling over mountaintops. The shockwave that followed was invisible yet undeniable. It struck Seraphina with a thundering force, hurling her backwards into the trees.
Branches cracked. Leaves trembled. The forest exhaled in awe.
Seraphina groaned, dragging herself up from the base of a tree, her limbs heavy, her breaths ragged. But she stopped, frozen mid-motion. Her eyes had gone wide.
Elara turned—and gasped.
Mira stood behind her.
No longer flesh, but flame—her figure translucent, glowing like fire trapped in glass. Her arms were spread wide, protective, her eyes shimmering with grief and strength. Not judgment. Not fury. Just sorrow.
Seraphina stared. Her grip on her blade faltered.
"Mira…" Her voice was barely audible. "That's not… possible."
Her fingers shook.
Something broke in her face—a tremor of guilt, a fracture in the mask she'd worn for too long.
But the pendant flared again.
And in the blink of an eye, the world dissolved.
Gone was the forest. In its place: a barren stone floor, cold as death. The air was still, but the silence screamed.
Elara stood in the vision, her body trembling.
Albert lay crumpled on the ground, limbs shaking. His eyes darted wildly, panicked, as though trapped inside a nightmare he couldn't escape. Shadows curled around him like a serpent, their tendrils sliding across his skin, sinking into his mind.
The Shadow. Feeding.
Whispers slithered through the air—ancient, unholy. Not words, but feelings. Fear. Hopelessness. Despair. They pressed inward, breaking him piece by piece.
Ariella appeared beside Elara in the dream. She grasped her hand tightly.
"We're losing him," she said, voice raw. "He's slipping away."
Elara stepped forward, as if proximity could reach him. "Albert…"
His eyes flicked toward them—startled, hopeful. But the light in them dimmed just as quickly. Recognition faded. Something cold filled the space behind his gaze.
Then—nothing.
The vision shattered like glass.
They were back in the forest.
Elara stumbled, her breath catching in her throat. Ariella sagged against a tree, blood still dripping from her side.
"Did you see it?" Elara whispered, her fingers trembling.
"I saw everything," Ariella replied hoarsely. "He's… he's still in there. But not for long."
Seraphina hadn't moved.
She stood where she'd fallen, eyes low, lips parted. A distant name crossed her lips like a ghost.
"Laxman…"
The name carried pain. Remorse. A memory long buried surfacing like a scar reopened.
Elara's eyes narrowed. "You remember him."
Seraphina's weapons dropped. Her arms hung useless at her sides. She looked like a child waking from a nightmare—unsure what was real, what was regret.
From the mist, a voice coiled through the trees—low, venomous.
"Don't forget who saved you."
The air thickened. The Shadow's presence poured through the branches, turning the forest colder, darker. Though it remained unseen, its control gripped tighter than any chain.
Seraphina flinched as if struck. A sob caught in her throat, but she said nothing.
Elara stepped forward, voice rising.
"Why does it want the pendant? What is it for? What does it control?"
Seraphina didn't meet her gaze. But after a long silence, her voice broke through the hush.
"It's a key," she whispered. "To something locked long ago. A seal. Not just Albert's memories—but something else. Something the Shadow wants. And fears."
Elara's grip on the pendant tightened until her knuckles whitened.
"And you still follow it?"
Seraphina shut her eyes, and for a moment, her face twisted in pain deeper than wounds. "I was broken before it found me," she said. "It gave me purpose. But now… now I wonder if I gave up too much."
Then the forest screamed.
The Shadow roared, a sound that shook the earth. Its rage surged through Seraphina, through the trees, through the soil itself.
A massive tree behind them exploded—splinters flying as bark erupted in fire. The ground lurched violently, hurling the girls off their feet.
Flames caught fast, licking at the undergrowth, devouring branches with a ravenous hunger. Smoke coiled skyward. Birds shrieked and fled the canopy, wings frantic.
Elara coughed, eyes burning. "We have to run!"
But Seraphina moved first.
In a blur of motion, her fingers snatched the pendant from Elara's neck.
"No!" Elara lunged, but the fire roared between them, driving her back with searing heat.
Seraphina's silhouette vanished into the smoke, the pendant a glowing ember clutched in her hand.
Elara screamed her name, but there was no answer—only crackling flames and the mournful hiss of burning trees.
The girls stumbled from the inferno, coughing, wounded, half-blind. Ariella's side bled steadily, and Elara supported her with one arm, fury and anguish blazing in her eyes.
"She took it," she whispered, as if speaking it aloud would undo it. "She took it…"
At the edge of the forest, the mist returned—thicker now, colder. The world quieted.
Then came the final vision.
Albert's face.
But this time, it wasn't scared.
It wasn't in pain.
It was empty.
His eyes stared forward, blank and lifeless, like glass marionette eyes. Strings moved him—but they were unseen. Puppeted by something crueler than fate. Something deeper than darkness.
Elara turned away, her fists clenched.
"We have to stop this. We have to get the pendant back."
And for the first time, even the forest seemed to weep.