Critic-Ishire.
*******
The eerie silence of the forest stretched on for what felt like an eternity, broken only by the troll's heavy breathing and the occasional rustling of leaves as it continued its search. Yet, it seemed Helena's magic had rendered them invisible to the creature. The atmosphere pressed down upon them like a weight, thick with tension, the foreignness of this place making Lydia's skin prickle with the chill of fear. Her mind raced with the impossibility of their situation.
At long last, the troll grunted in frustration, turning away as its interest waned. With a low, guttural sound, it crashed through the underbrush, moving deeper into the forest. The sound of its heavy footsteps grew fainter and fainter, until at last, it disappeared into nothingness.
Lydia and Helena remained utterly still, too terrified to move until the troll's presence had fully vanished. Only then did Lydia dare to open her eyes, her body trembling uncontrollably. Helena exhaled shakily, unclenching her hands as her gaze met Lydia's. In the silence they shared, the gravity of their narrow escape was understood—but there was no time to rest. They had to keep moving.
Without a word, as though their thoughts had aligned, they took off again, running in the direction they had previously chosen. Soon, they stumbled into another clearing, their breaths ragged, hearts pounding. The dense forest gave way to a more open space, a patch of land strewn with small rocks and tall, wild grass that swayed gently in the breeze.
The scent of damp earth filled the air, accompanied by the soft, almost musical sound of rushing water. The light here was different—softer, as though the trees surrounding the clearing shielded them from the harsher realities of the world outside.
For a fleeting moment, it felt safer here.
Lydia, her gown now streaked with dirt and torn in several places, glanced around in desperation. Her eyes soon fell upon a clear, flowing stream that cut through the clearing. Without thinking, she moved towards it, her feet quick over the rocks, yearning for the cool relief of the water to wash away the chaos and fear that clung to her.
"Lydia, wait!" Helena's voice sliced through the air, sharp and urgent. "No! You must not!"
Lydia froze, her foot hovering just above the water's edge. She snapped her head toward Helena, her wide eyes reflecting the alarm in her friend's voice. "What is the matter?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Is there yet another creature?"
Helena's pale face was stricken, her hands raised as though to physically stop Lydia from stepping further. "This is no ordinary stream," Helena said breathlessly, her voice tight with urgency. "It is the upper part of a waterfall. Should you proceed any further, we shall fall to our deaths."
Lydia's heart stuttered, her breath catching in her throat. She stepped back hastily, her stomach churning as she noticed the signs—the way the water seemed to disappear just beyond the edge of the clearing, the faint mist rising in the distance. A sheer drop waited beyond, with rocks and rushing water below, ready to crush them.
She backed away swiftly, rejoining Helena in the center of the clearing. They stood together, breathless, their eyes darting nervously towards the trees from which they had fled. The forest had fallen into an eerie silence once more, with only the distant roar of the waterfall filling the air, growing louder as they listened.
"What are we to do?" Lydia whispered, her voice barely audible over the rushing water. Her hands trembled at her sides, her mind racing through the rapidly dwindling options. They could not return the way they had come—the troll awaited them in the forest. But going forward meant certain death at the waterfall's edge.
Helena's wide eyes reflected her fear. "I... I do not know," she admitted, her voice quivering. "I cannot risk another teleportation, not after what transpired."
"You took the risk before," Lydia urged, her voice taut with desperation. "We can try again—together this time."
"Lydia..." Helena trailed off, shaking her head. "This is madness. I cannot."
Lydia frowned, her frustration growing. "Why? What is the true reason we cannot return?" Her hand instinctively moved to rest against her stomach as she spoke.
"There are... at least five reasons," Helena replied, her voice low as her lips thinned. Lydia's eyes widened in alarm.
"Five! My word, Helena, we are as good as dead!" Lydia clutched at her dress, her voice rising in panic.
"We are trapped," Helena corrected, though she appeared exhausted. She felt weak, but she could not abandon all hope.
"I must see Theodore! We are destined for a miserable end if you do not use your powers!" Lydia's voice broke with desperation as her plea hung in the air.
Helena shook her head, listing her concerns. "I cannot teleport when I do not even know where we are. I have never mastered such magic... and I feel faint already. If I attempt it again, we may end up in a place far worse than this—perhaps another kingdom, or another cursed forest."
Lydia's heart raced, the grim reality of their situation sinking in. Trapped between a monstrous troll and the deadly fall of the waterfall, it seemed there was no way out. Her thoughts turned to Theodore—their life together, the life they could still have if only they survived. She clenched her fists, fighting to steady her breathing.
"We must think," Lydia said, her voice shaking but resolute. "There must be a way. We cannot simply surrender to fate."
Helena nodded, though her fear was clear in her eyes. The clearing, which had offered a brief moment of respite, had now become a prison—its open space provided no protection from the dangers lurking in the shadows.
The distant roar of the waterfall seemed to grow louder, a constant reminder of the peril behind them. The two women stood side by side, backs to the water, facing the dark trees, knowing that whatever came next, they would face it together—even if it meant the end.
Helena let out a long sigh, raising her hand to run through her hair, but she froze. Her eyes widened as she stared down at her palm. "There is blood on my hands," she whispered, horror creeping into her voice.
Lydia blinked, glancing at her friend. "Yes, I had noticed it earlier. I thought you could see it yourself."
"There is blood on my hands!" Helena wailed, her terror rising as she looked at Lydia.
Lydia raised an eyebrow in confusion. The blood was obvious; they had escaped a bloodied scene back at the mansion. But Helena had been with her upstairs. "Whose blood is it?" Lydia asked, stepping closer. "Are you injured?" Panic overtook her as she gently grasped Helena's face, searching for wounds. "Where are you hurt? Do you feel any pain?"
Helena frowned, her mind racing. "No, I... I do not believe I am wounded. There is no pain." She stared at her bloodied palm, dread growing in her expression.
Lydia exhaled in relief. "Then where...?" She trailed off, realizing that Helena had gone completely still. "What is it?"
"Ebony," Helena whispered, so softly that Lydia barely caught the word.
"Ebony? Conan's horse?" Lydia asked, confusion knitting her brow.
"No," Helena replied, her voice thick with emotion. "Ebony... my cat."
"I had Ebony in my arms," Helena stammered, her voice shaking. "When I grabbed you... he was with me."
"Oh no... Ebony," Lydia whispered, understanding dawning on her.
"I believe the teleportation required a sacrifice," Helena murmured, her voice hollow.
"And it took Ebony," Lydia said solemnly.
Helena sniffed, her eyes filling with unshed tears. "He died for us."
"I am so sorry, Lena," Lydia whispered, her voice tender as she embraced her sister.
Helena began to sob, her shoulders shaking as the tears finally fell. Lydia, who found it difficult to cry, held her close, offering silent comfort.
But then, a roar echoed behind them. They froze.