The sky above the Dark God's Keep seethed, a maddened swirl of blackened clouds veined with crimson lightning. Daine watched it through the window, its silent fury a mirror to the storm inside her. Every now and again, jagged shards of electricity would spew out to strike the ground surrounding the keep and spires of obsidian would jut upwards in response, looking nothing so much like the grasping fingers of some ancient giant clawing its way from the abyss.

Behind her, the arguing pressed in, voices loud and angry, but Eliud's stood out—flat, as though the weight of his own words crushed the life from them. He looked sick, his face ashen, eyes sunken from too many sleepless nights and too much magic drained into this cursed land.

"I'm sorry, but we're running out of time," he said, and it sounded like a death knell. "Genoes must summon the portal."

Kirstin's grip tightened on Shadowstrike, and the bow seemed to curl around the increased pressure. "No. That's not fair! I won't allow it," she said. "You're asking him to condemn himself to stay here forever! Alone! He's just a child, and he needs to come back with us." Savage prowled around her legs, her form shifting subtly as shadows clung to her fur like tar. Her eyes glinted with an otherworldly intelligence, and her tail flicked with agitation. Josul stood sentinel beside Genoes, his hackles raised and a low growl emanating from deep within his chest.

Donal shook his head, hollow-eyed, as if the very thought was draining what little strength remained. "Eliud, you know that what you suggest is not right. We did not come all this way just to sacrifice him to save our own skins." His voice echoed like something lost in the depths of a cave, far removed from the intimidating fighter he'd evolved into.

But Eliud stood there, motionless. It was in his silence, in his stillness, that his torment was most obvious. Each word that left his mouth was destroying him, piece by piece, as if the mere act of suggesting this damned them all. He had always been the one with answers, the one who could find a path through the most complex of magic, but now, there was only desperation.

They all knew Eliud was right. She knew it, too. But that didn’t make the choice easier.

Daine’s head throbbed under the weight of the realm’s whispers—ancient, shadowy things pressing against her thoughts. This was not a place for the living. Even the short time she had been in the Dark God's realm felt like an abomination. Like they were intruding into a world that would devour them whole if they lingered too long. The others were locked in their fears, in their anger, but Daine could sense the truth creeping through the walls, through their souls.

They’re right to fear, the Goddess whispered into her mind, threading through her thoughts like poisoned honey. The longer you tarry, the stronger the Dark God's hold upon you becomes. Soon, not even a portal generated by the Shadowbound will be available to you. You must make the difficult choice.

Daine closed her eyes, trying to block out the noise, to find some stillness in the storm. But there was no escaping it. The darkness here was not just external—it clawed at her, gnawing at the edges of her soul. She had never felt so weak, so uncertain. How could Eliud ask this of them? How could they even be here?

And Genoes, standing silent amidst the storm, already Shadowbound? She did not know whether she believed that. The boy in front of her did not strike her as kin to those monsters Donal and she had fought in the Bloodspires. Was his soul becoming twisted and tainted by the evil that filled this place? Or did he yet somehow still resist . . .

But Eliud had nothing left to give but cruelty wrapped in logic. The cost of being the one who always knows the way out. She knew that feeling well enough herself.

The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.

Kirstin’s voice rang out again, sharp and defiant, but beneath the anger was something more vulnerable—a desperation not to lose someone else, not after all they had lost already. And the others, even Donal, their resistance was more than fear. It was grief. They were mourning Genoes before the choice had even been made.

And with that, Daine’s mind drifted back to her training, to Old Gant standing over her, his voice a gruff snarl but the words biting deep. "The hardest battles are the ones you fight in your own head, girl. And you're not ready for them. Not yet."

Daine thought she’d learned, thought she’d grown beyond the teachings of that man. She had faced battlefields, watched comrades fall, made decisions that had left her sleepless for nights on end. But this… this was different. There was no courage in this, no defiance. Only necessity.

A young Daine - had she ever truly been that young? - bruised and exhausted, had looked up at Old Gant with defiance. "I'm not afraid of you."

He'd knelt down, bringing himself to her eye level. "Courage isn't an absence of fear, my little Darkhelm", he had said, placing a calloused hand on her shoulder. "It's standing your ground when fear consumes you."

The storm outside flashed again, crimson lightning snaking down to the ground, pulling the earth upwards in grotesque formations. Eliud's face was etched with fatigue, shadows under his eyes betraying the cost of maintaining his magic in this accursed place. Kirstin's positive energy was dimmed, the subtle glow of her Class flickering like a candle in a gale. Donal's most recent transformation seemed almost too fitting here, the darkness amplifying the grim aspects of his form.

Genoes, huddled in on himself, was still, but the darkness at his feet writhed, whispering, beckoning. And still, he resisted—a boy, barely grown, holding back forces that would break any of them.

Daine moved toward him. "Genoes," she said, barely more than a whisper.

His eyes lifted to hers, hollowed by exhaustion, darkened by the shadows he held at bay. "I can hear them," he said, his voice cracked. "The voices... they’re calling me."

She didn’t ask what they were saying. She knew.

"You do not belong to them," she said, though the words felt brittle, empty. How many times had she told herself the same? How many times had she wanted to believe it?

He gave a bitter laugh, a sound so hollow it made her heart twist. "I’m already theirs, Daine. Look at me."

She touched his cheek, letting a sliver of her healing light break through her fingertips. The shadows recoiled, but only slightly. Even the light seemed fragile here. "You're stronger than this. You always have been."

Behind them, the argument raged on. Kirstin, her fury near tears, and Eliud, pleading with a voice that had nothing left to give. Both knowing what had to be done, but unable to face it.

"I don’t know if I am," Genoes whispered, the doubt in his voice so raw that it stung more than the darkness.

"You are," Daine said, forcing the words, forcing herself to believe it for him, if not for herself.

And then Eliud's voice rose above them all, the cracks in it deeper than the abyss outside. "We have no other choice," he said, not as an argument but as a surrender.

There was no triumph in it. No finality. Just an aching emptiness that stretched between them, a hollow chasm that threatened to swallow them all whole.

But it was the truth.

Daine’s heart weighed heavy in her chest. The boy was already lost. And they were running out of time.

She turned to the others, her voice quiet, but the finality in it clear. "We can't leave him. But we can't save him either. Not as he is."

The room fell silent. Even the shadows seemed to pause, listening.

And Genoes, for the first time since they had entered this place, did not flinch. "Then let me use it," he said, the steel in his voice unexpected, sharp. "If I’m already gone... let me take them down with me."

Kirstin recoiled, her hands shaking with the force of her denial. "No. We can’t just let him give up. We have to find another way."

Eliud’s face had paled further, eyes dark pits of weariness. "There isn’t another way. The longer we wait, the closer we all are to becoming shadowbound like him."

Donal’s eyes gleamed in the half-light, his predatory gaze cutting through the silence. "The shadows don’t fight fair. Why should we?"

And that resonated with Daine. The Dark God had ever shown himself to be an unfair foe. Why should they continue to battle him by his rules? She clenched her fists, the cold weight of her sword at her side an all-too-familiar reminder of how few options remained. "That's right. Why should we? There’s always another way. We just need to find it."