The defiance flared to life in the blaze of Seren’s eyes. “We’re not leaving my brother!” she shouted, her voice quivering with rage.
Scarcely had she uttered the words than the earth stirred uncomfortably beneath them, the air congealing with malignant presence. Kahel’s heartbeat quickened as the shadows around them darkened, twisting unnaturally, and from that dark void a figure began to take shape.
Tall and shrouded, this figure seemed to have glowing eyes that shone a sickly green with an unnatural light. It even seemed as though the very air quivered around him, reality bent to his whim. Kahel could feel it, corruption and power pulling from him at the edges of his mind.
“I am Marakor,” the figure hissed, his voice like grinding stone. “And you have walked willingly into my domain.”
Kahel’s sword suddenly felt heavy in his grasp as Marakor stepped forward, an oppressive presence that twisted the air around him.
It became an effort to breathe as the weight of Marakor’s power seeped into the clearing, bending it to his will. There was something unnatural—terribly unnatural—about him, something as if he did not quite belong to the reality they knew.
Caius sagged back against Seren, shaking like a leaf. “He’s… using me… to bring you to him,” Caius whispered, barely able to hold his head up.
Marakor chuckled coldly and blankly, and the sound swept across the valley. “Yes. The beacon served well. You are here now, and there is no escape.”
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Kahel moved another step closer, his heart racing wildly. His grip on the hilt of the sword was firm. “We are not going to let you take him.”
“Foolish boy,” Marakor hissed. “Do you really think you can stop me?”
Before Kahel could do anything, a surge of dark energy burst from Marakor and enveloped them, sending Kahel stumbling backward. But the Viera inside flared to life and guided his movements instinctively. He dodged the brunt with quickness surprising to him.
Still, there was something darker pulsating within—a force that didn’t belong.
As Kahel steadied himself, he blinked, his vision swimming. His body felt strange, tugged two ways. The familiar warmth of Viera hummed beneath his skin, but below that, something colder, sharper—dangerous—was waking. Marakor’s eyes shone with malicious satisfaction as he locked gazes with Kahel. “You feel it, don’t you? The pull of Keryth. It’s inside you, waiting.”
Kahel’s breath caught. Keryth? How could he feel Keryth? Yet the pulse within him… that was unmistakable, strengthening with every beat.
“You don’t realize it yet,” Marakor whispered, his voice sliding through the shadows. “But you’re more like me than you know. You could use it. You could become more than you are.”
Kahel shook his head. The thought vanished. “No, I won’t use that power.”
And through the darkness, Marakor’s mocking laugh spread. “You already are.”
Twisted, writhing shadows surrounded them, from which came more grotesque, humanoid figures, horribly misshapen, moving jerkily and unnaturally as if pulled by strings of dark will.
“Prepare yourselves,” Rein muttered, his sword already out. They pounced, eyes aglow as they fixed onto the group. Kahel’s heart raced as he swung his sword, slicing through the first creature with ease. But the more that came, the stronger the dark pulse inside him grew, the more insistent it became. His body moved quicker, fluid, but it wasn’t just the Viera guiding him. It was something else.