The Thorncroft estate was enveloped in an unnatural stillness, the kind that settled only when something waited in the dark. Eleanor stood in the grand hall, her lantern casting flickering shadows across the carved wood paneling and faded tapestries. The events of the last few days weighed on her shoulders like an invisible shroud, but the discovery from her mother’s journal propelled her forward. She had translated part of the Codex Umbra: “When the shadow consumes the light, the gate shall open.” The ominous phrase lingered in her mind like a splinter she couldn’t remove.
Lena appeared at the top of the staircase, her face pale and her hair slightly disheveled. She clutched a blanket tightly around her shoulders. “You’re up again,” she murmured, descending the steps.
Eleanor glanced up at her sister, the weariness clear in her dark eyes. “I can’t sleep. Every time I close my eyes, I see…” Her voice trailed off. “It doesn’t matter. What about you?”
Lena’s lips pressed into a thin line as she sank into a chair by the hearth. “I keep dreaming about that figure in the garden. The way it pointed at you.” She shivered. “Do you think it was connected to the Obelisk?”
Eleanor hesitated, her gaze falling to the journal on the table. “I don’t think it’s a question of connection. I think it’s part of something much larger. Something Mother was trying to understand before she disappeared.”
As she spoke, her fingers brushed against the pages of her mother’s journal, stopping on a drawing that had haunted her thoughts since the library incident. It depicted a gate formed of twisting shadows, its surface etched with the same symbols that adorned the Obelisk. Beneath the image were more cryptic lines: “To walk the path, one must first become the shadow.”
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Later that morning, the sisters ventured back into Blackthorn. The town square was deserted, the Obelisk standing like a dark monolith in the center. Eleanor approached it cautiously, her gloved hand tracing the faint carvings that adorned its surface. Each time she touched the stone, she felt a faint warmth, as if it was responding to her presence.
“Eleanor, stop,” Lena hissed, glancing nervously at the windows of the nearby buildings. “What if someone sees?”
“Let them,” Eleanor replied, her tone defiant. She stepped back, studying the Obelisk from a distance. “This thing is tied to our family. I can feel it. And I’m not going to let fear keep me from figuring out why.”
A low, guttural sound drew their attention. Across the square, a man stumbled out of an alley, his eyes wide with terror. He was clutching his chest, muttering incoherently as he collapsed to his knees.
Lena darted toward him, but Eleanor held her back. “Wait,” she said, her voice tense. “Something’s not right.”
The man’s muttering grew louder, his words forming a garbled chant that sent chills down Eleanor’s spine. She recognized fragments of the ancient script from the Codex Umbra, spoken with a guttural intensity that seemed to echo in her mind.
“We need to help him!” Lena protested, but Eleanor shook her head.
“Stay here,” she ordered, stepping forward cautiously. “Sir? Can you hear me?”
The man’s head snapped up, his eyes meeting hers. They were pitch black, the irises consumed by an unnatural darkness. He lunged at her with an inhuman speed, but Eleanor sidestepped, narrowly avoiding his grasp. The force of his movement sent him sprawling to the ground, where he convulsed violently before going still.
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Lena rushed to her side. “What just happened?” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Eleanor knelt beside the man, her gaze fixed on the symbols now etched into his skin, glowing faintly before fading into nothingness. “He’s dead,” she said quietly. “But I think… I think he was marked.”
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That evening, back at the estate, Eleanor locked herself in the library. She spread the Codex Umbra, her mother’s journal, and various other texts across the table, determined to find answers. Lena’s presence lingered in the doorway, her concern evident.
“You can’t keep doing this alone,” she said. “What if something happens to you? I can’t lose you too.”
Eleanor looked up, her expression softening. “I’m not doing this alone. I have you.” She gestured to a stack of notes. “If you’re serious about helping, start with these. They’re references to other artifacts that might be connected to the Obelisk.”
Lena hesitated but finally stepped into the room, taking the notes. “Fine. But if we’re doing this, we’re doing it together.”
Hours passed as the sisters worked in silence, the only sounds the rustling of paper and the occasional crackle of the fire. As the night deepened, Eleanor came across a passage in the Codex that made her blood run cold.
The Hollow One shall rise when the veil between realms is thinnest. Shadows will consume the light, and the Gate shall open, unleashing that which lies beyond.
She read the passage aloud, her voice trembling. “Lena, this isn’t just about the Obelisk. It’s about the entire town. Maybe even beyond that.”
Lena frowned, leaning over the book. “What does it mean? Shadows consuming light? The Gate?”
Eleanor shook her head. “I don’t know. But I think the Obelisk is the key. If we can understand it, we might be able to stop whatever’s coming.”
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The following day, they visited the outskirts of Blackthorn, where an ancient church stood in ruins. According to the Codex, the church’s catacombs housed a relic known as the Mirror of Ashes, said to reveal truths hidden in shadow.
The air inside the church was heavy with decay, the faint smell of mildew and earth filling their lungs. Eleanor led the way, her lantern casting long shadows against the crumbling walls. The entrance to the catacombs was hidden beneath a shattered altar, its stone slabs engraved with symbols eerily similar to those on the Obelisk.
“Do you think Mother ever came here?” Lena asked, her voice hushed.
Eleanor nodded. “She must have. These markings match her sketches.” She pushed aside the rubble, revealing a narrow staircase that descended into darkness. “Stay close.”
The catacombs were cold and silent, the air thick with the weight of centuries. They navigated the narrow passages, their footsteps echoing faintly. At last, they entered a chamber where the Mirror of Ashes rested on a pedestal, its surface tarnished and cracked.
Eleanor approached cautiously, her breath visible in the frigid air. “This is it,” she whispered, reaching out to touch the mirror.
As her fingers brushed against the surface, the room plunged into darkness. A sudden burst of light emanated from the mirror, illuminating the chamber in an eerie, otherworldly glow. Shadows danced across the walls, forming shapes and figures that seemed to watch them.
Lena clutched Eleanor’s arm. “What’s happening?”
The light coalesced into an image within the mirror. Eleanor saw herself standing before the Obelisk, her reflection distorted and shifting. Behind her loomed a massive gate, its surface writhing with shadowy tendrils.
A voice echoed in her mind, deep and resonant. “The path is set. The Hollow One calls. Will you answer?”
Eleanor staggered back, breaking the connection. The light faded, leaving them in darkness once more. She looked at Lena, her voice barely a whisper. “We have to go. Now.”
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As they emerged from the catacombs, the sky above Blackthorn was unnaturally dark, the sun obscured by swirling clouds. The town felt different, as if some unseen force had begun to seep into its very foundation.
Eleanor gripped Lena’s hand tightly. “We need to prepare. Whatever’s coming, it’s already begun.”
Lena’s eyes filled with fear, but she nodded. “What do we do?”
Eleanor looked toward the distant Obelisk, its dark surface barely visible through the fog. “We find the Gate. And we stop it.”