Her vision blurred and, before she could even fight it off, she was jerked back in time.
Gone now was the cold, heavy air of the mausoleum, mentally replaced by the suffocating energy in the ritual chamber. The flickering light of the torches danced in her vision, casting long irregular shadows along stone walls. The temperature dropped sharply, and skin bit at it like ice. Panic from the last vision clung to her mind, but now the room felt quieter, more desolate.
She stood at the chamber's threshold, remote, and watched the aftermath of the failed ritual play out before her. The room was filled with bodies of the Grey family of them having fallen lifeless, their forms contorted in unnatural ways. The air was heavy with the stench of burning herbs and blood. The entity—though still present—had retreated into the shadows, its shape barely visible as it lingered in the corners of the room, feeding off the residual magic.
And amidst it all, the solitary figure of Silas stood.
He was younger- much younger than the ghost she had come to know, but weariness and even hauntedness hung from his visage. His eyes were filled with the weight of what was now done with. His robe was rent and bloodstained, his hands shaking as he clutched the artifact, its glow faint and flickering as if the magic had been drained from it.
Lilly's breath caught in her throat as she watched him. Silas looked so different from the calm steady presence she had encountered in the cemetery. Now, he was just as lost and desperate as the others.
He had tried to prevent it, Lilly thought, her heart twisting with an unfamiliar ache.
Then, out of nowhere, came the reverberating sound of a voice that sent the hairs at the back of Lilly's neck standing on its end.
You failed, Silas," the voice said, echoing, full of malevolence. It seemed to issue from everywhere and nowhere all at once, surrounding them. "Your family thought they could control me. But they were wrong.
Silas winced slightly, his clench on the artifact tightening. His knuckles were white, his face pale.
"I can still bind you," he said, his voice hoarse but resolute. "I won't let you go."
A low, cruel chuckle emanated from the entity as it spoke to him: "You're too late. The ritual's broken. Your family is dead. And now, you will be too."
The weight of its words felt like a vice that clamped down on Lilly's chest. She could feel the rising of its power, swelling like a storm that waited to break. Silas was alone against a force so well beyond his control, and he could do nothing.
Then something shifted.
Silas stepped forward. His eyes seemed to narrow, his purpose now rekindled. The fear in them did not leave, but it was overpowered by something stronger—a deep, unharried resolution.
If I can't bind you, Silas said softly, then I'll stop you another way.
Bright, in the darkness, the glowing eyes of the entity suddenly flared. "What are you doing, boy?
Silas didn't reply. He simply held the artifact up in front of himself, quivering, his eyes with an edge to them as he began chanting words unfamiliar to Lilly, but she could almost feel the magic inside them, raw and powerful.
The air in the room seemed to shift, and the entity stirred, its form fluttering like a flame as the magic took hold. But Lilly could feel this wasn't the same sort of magic the Greys had used earlier. It was something other, more intimate. Silas wasn't summoning or controlling the entity at all. He was offering himself as a conduit.
The room still chanting, grew colder; the temperature dropped to an unbearable level. Her breathing exhaled fogged clouds of breath from Lilly, and a thin layer of frost began lining the fragile walls of the chamber. She could feel the magic wrapping around Silas like a cocoon, binding him to the ritual in a way that none of them had been.
I will not let you leave this place," Silas said in almost a whisper. "I'll keep you here, even if it costs me everything.".
Yet the creature roared with rage. Its form expanded, undulating writhingly as it bucked against the hold. The magic was anchoring itself already, though, pinning it in the cemetery, trapping it within the boundary the ritual had set. Silas had sacrificed himself to become the missing living conduit that the ritual demanded.
Her heart was still racing in her chest, her very body shaking with the weight of what she had just seen: Silas denying everything and freedom-to keep the entity bound to the cemetery. And even in death, he doesn't get released; he's still here, between worlds, forever bound to that magic that went so wrong.
Once more, the vision began to blur and the edges of her consciousness were fading as the past slipped away from her. The cold, harsh grip of the world of the living tugged at her, pulling her back across the thick veil separating the quick from the dead.
Lilly gasped as the vision snapped out of existence.
She was no longer inside the mausoleum. Cold, fresh night air slapped her face, and she realized she had spiraled out into the cemetery, her breathing coming in short, ragged bursts. There was uneven ground beneath her feet, the grass clammy with dew. The crumbling mausoleum loomed behind, its shadow stretching out across the tombstones like a dark reminder of what she had just escaped.
Her legs buckled under her as she staggered forward, her muscles still quivering with exhaustion. The world around her was still imbalanced, the lines between reality and the visions fuzzy within her mind. She pressed her hand against a nearby headstone, trying to steady herself, her breathing shallow.
But somehow, something wasn't right.
The headstone beneath her hand felt different and solid than it should. It was cold, but still, it seemed to pulse faintly beneath her fingers, like a heartbeat. Lilly frowned, her mind still swimming with the weight of the visions.
Slowly, she drew her hand away, her eyes fixed on her palm. The feeling continued, burning into her skin, and when she looked up, her heart skipped a beat at what she saw.
Silas just stood there, only a few feet away from her.
He was no longer fluttering, unreachable, and insubstantial. He seemed… substantial. Like the barrier between them had stretched. Like he was now closer to her world than he ever had been.
Lilly's breath caught in her throat as her fingers still tingled from the sensation of the headstone, and her mind began to race, trying to make sense of what was happening.
Silas?" she said, her voice shaking.
For a moment, he didn't respond. His expression was unreadable, his eyes locked onto hers. Then, slowly, he stepped forward, his form still hazy around the edges, but undeniably more present than before. "You can feel it, can't you?" he asked softly, his voice low.
Lilly frowned, bewildered. "Feel what?"
The link," Silas said, his eyes unyielding. "You're crossing the boundary between the living and the dead.
Lilly's heart was racing. "I don't understand.
Silas moved closer to her and, without thinking, Lilly reached out. The back of her hand grazed his arm, and she felt him this time. His form wasn't solid like a living person, yet it also wasn't that cold, removed sensation of a ghost. It was something in between, something real.
Her eyes had widened, and then she could touch him.
"I can… I can feel you," Lilly whispered, her voice barely audible. Her fingers shook while she pulled her hand back, her mind reeling with the realization.
Silas nodded, softening. "Your contact with the spirit world is becoming unprecedentedly better. You don't just see spirits anymore; you can communicate with them.
Lilly's breathing came in short gasps as the weight of his words settled over her. She had always been able to see ghosts-to feel the presence of this… this was something new, something so much more powerful.
The visions, the artifact, the entity-they all drew her closer and closer into the spirit world, closer to the veil separating the living from the dead. And now that veil was breaking down.
"I… I can touch you," Lilly stammered, not believing her eyes.
Silas gave her a small sad smile. "You're more a part of this world than you know. But that comes with a price."
Lilly's mind was racing as if her heart pounding in her chest was entreating it too. The boundary between worlds was weakening, and she was right at the center of it, her ability to interact with spirits strengthening. But what did it mean to her? What cost had Silas spoken of?
Before she could ask, Silas's form began to flicker again, that solidness she had felt slipping away as the connection weakened. Lilly reached out instinctively, but this time her hand passed through him, the sensation of solidity gone.
"Wait!" she cried out, the panic rising in her chest. Silas gave her one last, unreadable glance and then disappeared into the night air, leaving Lilly in the dark graveyard, her mind reeling from the weight of what she'd just learned. She wasn't just seeing ghosts anymore. She could touch them.
As her breathing slowed and the final remnants of the vision faded from her mind, Lilly realized that a soft glow pervaded the sky. The night was wearing off. She stood alone among the gravestones, thoughts swirling in her head about the enormity of what had happened to her—her new powers, that is—and watched as the first rays of dawn crested the horizon. Pale light spilled across the cemetery, filtering down between the tombstones, and casting long shadows across the crumbling mausoleum behind her.
With the weight of the night's events still clinging to her, in that brief moment—as the sun rose—she allowed herself to breathe. She had survived the night. But deep down, she knew this was far from the end.