~~~
Felicia stood frozen for a moment, staring at the door Nelson had just passed through. The lingering warmth of his final kiss still clung to her lips, but the chill in her chest wouldn't subside.
Something about this—about him facing whatever was outside those gates alone—felt deeply wrong.
She knew Nelson was strong. She'd seen him lead armies, dismantle rival families, and weather the harshest battles with a ruthless efficiency. But this wasn't just another enemy; it was something unknown, something darker than either of them had ever faced.
Her heart pounded in her chest as she stepped toward the window, looking out over the palace grounds. The fog was thickening, creeping in like a living thing, swallowing the distant shapes of guards and walls.
She could just barely make out the northern gates through the swirling mist. Beyond them, she knew, lay the force that had decimated Ryker's men. And now, Nelson was walking straight into its path.
Felicia's throat tightened as she watched him approach the gates, his figure small and alone against the vast, ominous night.
The wind howled, pushing against the windows, rattling them like fragile bones. She clenched her fists, frustration and fear bubbling up inside her. How could she just stand here, waiting, while he faced that thing?
With a surge of determination, Felicia spun on her heel and made her way toward the door. If Nelson wouldn't let her fight beside him, she would find another way to help.
She wouldn't just be some passive bystander, not after everything they'd been through.
As she rushed down the dimly lit halls of the palace, her mind raced. She remembered the stories—the whispered rumors among the old families about creatures from beyond, monsters conjured by ancient, forgotten magics.
Felicia had never paid them much attention, but tonight those stories felt all too real. She needed answers, and fast.
She reached the palace archives, her footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The room was vast, filled with rows of old, dusty tomes that stretched to the ceiling.
Somewhere in here, there had to be something—some mention of what they were facing.
Felicia grabbed a lantern and began scanning the shelves, pulling down anything that looked remotely useful. Books on legends, on the supernatural, on the old wars and their strange weapons.
She flipped through pages quickly, skimming for anything that could give her a clue.
But nothing came close to explaining what they were dealing with. No mention of the twisted figure from her vision, no explanation for the dark energy that had destroyed Ryker's forces.
It was as if whatever this was had slipped through history's cracks, erased from memory.
Felicia was about to slam the last book shut in frustration when she noticed something—a single phrase buried in an old journal, written by one of the first heads of her family's lineage: "The curse that bends men to its will has no master. Beware the night it chooses to collect its due."
Her pulse quickened as she reread the line. A curse? Could this be what had come for Nelson? Something that didn't obey the natural rules of their world, something ancient and forgotten?
Before she could ponder further, a loud, sharp noise reverberated through the palace—metal clashing against metal, followed by a distant shout. Her blood ran cold. She didn't have time to decipher the mystery. Nelson was out there.
Without another thought, Felicia grabbed her dagger, tucked it into her belt, and raced out of the archives, her heart thudding in her chest. She wasn't going to let Nelson fight alone, no matter what dark force had come for them.
The wind whipped at her face as she pushed through the heavy palace doors and stepped into the courtyard.
The mist was thicker now, swirling like a living thing, obscuring the edges of her vision. But through it, she could make out the northern gates—and the black figure looming just beyond them.
Her breath caught in her throat. The figure was even more terrifying in reality than it had been in her dream. Its hooded form seemed to ripple with the mist, as if it were part of it. Nelson stood in front of it, sword drawn, his posture rigid with defiance.
She rushed toward them, her feet pounding against the cobblestones. But before she could get close, the figure raised one twisted arm, and a wave of dark energy pulsed outwards, knocking her off her feet. Felicia hit the ground hard, her vision spinning.
"NELSON!" she screamed, trying to get to her feet, but her body felt heavy, as though the very air around her had turned into a thick, oppressive force.
Nelson didn't turn to look at her. His focus was entirely on the figure before him. "I won't let you have her," he growled, his voice steady despite the chaos. "You'll have to go through me."
The figure tilted its head slightly, as if considering Nelson's words. Then it spoke, its voice a low, guttural hiss that seemed to seep into the very ground beneath them. "You misunderstand, Nelson Bianchi. I have not come for her. I have come for you."
Felicia's heart stopped. For him?
Nelson's grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles white. "Then come and take me, if you can."
The figure's hooded face turned toward Felicia for a brief, chilling moment, and she felt a wave of terror rush through her. "He owes a debt," it said softly, its voice reverberating in her mind, "one that cannot be undone."
Felicia's mind raced. What debt? What was this thing talking about?
But before she could process it, the figure raised both arms, and the mist around them thickened, turning into a swirling vortex of darkness. Nelson lunged forward, his sword slashing through the air, but the figure was faster.
A wave of dark energy slammed into him, sending him crashing to the ground with a grunt of pain.
"NO!" Felicia screamed, struggling to her feet, but the force of the energy held her back.
Nelson lay still for a moment, his body motionless, the mist swirling around him like a predator circling its prey.
Felicia's heart pounded in her chest. She couldn't lose him. Not now. Not after everything they'd been through.
The figure began to move toward Nelson, its twisted form bending unnaturally as it reached out. "His soul is mine," it rasped, the words slicing through the air like a blade.
Felicia fought against the force holding her down, her hands gripping the hilt of her dagger. She couldn't let this happen. She wouldn't.
Just as the figure's hand hovered above Nelson, something shifted. A gust of wind swept through the courtyard, scattering the mist, and the figure froze.
From the shadows, another presence emerged—tall, cloaked in darkness but different from the creature that had attacked them. Its aura was strong, commanding, and somehow… familiar.
Felicia's breath caught in her throat as the figure stopped in its tracks, turning toward the newcomer.
The air crackled with tension as the two forces faced each other, and in the sudden stillness, Felicia realized one thing:
This battle was far from over….