The cold, damp air wrapped around Seraphina like a suffocating shroud as she and Azrael stepped into the hidden chamber. Flickering torchlight from the walls cast eerie shadows, but what truly grabbed her attention were the ancient runes etched into the stone. The carvings shimmered faintly, an aura of forgotten magic lingering in the air.
Seraphina's fingers traced the runes with an almost reverent touch. Her heart quickened as she recognized the ancient symbols of her kind—the witches. But there was something else hidden beneath the surface. These runes weren't just for enchantments; they were something darker, older. A warning? Or perhaps... a command?
Azrael's voice cut through the silence like a blade. "You knew, didn't you?"
She whipped around, eyes wide. "Knew what?"
"About this," Azrael gestured sharply to the walls. His crimson eyes blazed with accusation, his wings flexing in agitation. "This was no accident. Your people... they tried to control the Wyrm. And now it's free because of them."
"I had no idea," Seraphina snapped back, though her voice faltered. A tremor of doubt slithered down her spine as her gaze flicked back to the runes. Could it be true? Could her ancestors have been responsible for unleashing this chaos?
"You expect me to believe that?" Azrael stepped closer, his voice cold and venomous. "Everything about this reeks of witchcraft, and you're telling me you're clueless? That's hard to swallow, Seraphina."
Her chest tightened. "I swear I didn't know." But as the words left her mouth, doubt gnawed at her. What if Azrael was right? What if her people had been behind this all along? Her hands clenched into fists, her fingernails digging into her palms.
Azrael's lips curled into a snarl. "Your kind always plays with forces they can't control. You think you're gods, manipulating life and death, bending magic to your will. And now look what's happened. The Wyrm has ravaged my realm—our people are dying. All because of your people's arrogance."
"That's not fair, Azrael!" Seraphina shot back, her voice breaking with anger. "I've been fighting alongside you! You know nothing about me or what I stand for."
His eyes flashed dangerously. "I know enough. You've kept secrets. And now we're facing the consequences."
Seraphina opened her mouth to respond, but her voice died in her throat as something strange caught her attention. In the far corner of the chamber, partially buried beneath rubble, a faint glow pulsed—a relic of some kind.
Azrael followed her gaze, his expression hardening. He moved swiftly toward it, brushing aside the debris with a single sweep of his hand. As the relic emerged into view, it shimmered—a small, ancient object with intricate markings of both witch and demon origin.
Seraphina's breath hitched. "What is that?"
Azrael's eyes narrowed as he studied the artifact, and his fingers traced the markings. "It's a relic... designed to control the Wyrm. But it requires two sources of magic to activate—demon and witch magic."
Seraphina took a step back. "You can't be serious."
"I'm very serious." Azrael's voice was cold, determined. "This is the only way to stop the Wyrm. With this, we could control it—bind it to our will and prevent further destruction. But I need your power."
Seraphina's heart raced. Her mind whirled with the possibilities. Could this relic really control the Wyrm? But something about it didn't sit right with her. There was a dark pull from it, a temptation that whispered to her like a siren's song.
"You don't know what you're asking for," Seraphina said, shaking her head. "This kind of magic... it's dangerous. It could backfire. It could—"
"We don't have a choice!" Azrael interrupted, his wings flaring. His voice was filled with urgency, almost desperation. "Our worlds are at stake. If we don't act now, everything we know will be consumed by the Wyrm's wrath."
Seraphina looked at him, her lips pressed into a thin line. She wanted to argue, to tell him that there had to be another way, but the truth was, time was running out. Still, something deep within her screamed for her to refuse. The relic felt wrong—it was wrong.
"I can't," she whispered, stepping back. "I won't."
Azrael's face darkened with fury. "What do you mean you won't? After all we've been through, you're going to let this thing destroy everything because you're scared?"
"It's not fear," Seraphina said, though she wasn't entirely sure herself. "It's caution. This relic... it could end up destroying us all. I can't risk that."
But before she could say more, the relic pulsed, and a surge of energy rippled through the room. The air crackled with raw magic, and Seraphina gasped as the relic began to react to her presence. A faint glow surrounded her, pulling her toward it.
Azrael watched in stunned silence, his gaze locked on her. "It's responding to you," he whispered. "You're connected to it."
Seraphina tried to step back, but the pull was too strong. Her body trembled as the magic coursed through her veins, unwillingly drawing her closer to the relic. She could feel its dark power reaching out, trying to latch onto her, trying to use her.
"Azrael!" she gasped, struggling to break free from the invisible force binding her. "I can't control it!"
But Azrael didn't move. His eyes were fixed on the relic, his mind racing. "You have to harness it, Seraphina. You have to—"
"I don't want to!" she screamed, the energy surging even stronger. Her pulse quickened, her heart hammering in her chest. The relic's power clawed at her, feeding off her magic.
In that moment, her mind was flooded with images—visions of the Wyrm, of destruction, of her people long ago trying to bend the beast to their will and failing. Seraphina could feel the echoes of their screams, their failure—and the consequences that followed.
She was caught in the middle of something far bigger than herself, and the realization hit her hard. This wasn't just about the Wyrm. This was about history repeating itself. And the relic was the key.
"Seraphina!" Azrael's voice broke through her thoughts, and she blinked, tearing her eyes away from the relic. He was beside her now, his hands on her shoulders, shaking her slightly. "You have to focus. You can control it. You can stop this."
But Seraphina shook her head, her voice shaky. "I'm not sure I can. What if... what if I make things worse?"
"Then we'll face that together," Azrael said firmly, his grip tightening. "But if you don't try, we'll lose everything."
Seraphina took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Her fingers twitched as she reached for the relic, her magic humming in response. She could feel the tension in the air, the weight of Azrael's gaze on her. The fate of their world hung in the balance.
With one final, shaky exhale, she placed her hand on the relic.
The room exploded with light.