Izzy stood frozen, unable to tear her eyes away from the figure that resembled her mother. The memories came rushing back—her childhood, the accident, the guilt she had carried ever since. The Wraith was relentless, prying open every wound and forcing her to relive her regrets. The fog thickened, and the shadows seemed to grow darker, coiling around her like the tendrils of despair itself.
"Izzy, you've always been weak," the figure whispered, its voice a twisted version of her mother's. "You never deserved to be saved."
She gritted her teeth, shaking her head violently as if to clear it. "This isn't real," she whispered to herself, clutching the blade at her side. "None of this is real." But even as she tried to fight back, the Wraith's magic clamped down tighter, its voice filling her head with doubts. Her limbs grew heavy, and her grip on the blade faltered. It was as if every ounce of strength was being drained from her, the despair sapping her will to keep going.
Just as she was about to give in to the darkness, a faint melody reached her ears—a familiar tune, one that had always comforted her when she was little. It cut through the haze, piercing the veil of despair like a ray of light. Her mother's lullaby.
It wasn't coming from the Wraith. It was real. She remembered it clearly, the way her mother would hum the song to her whenever she was scared. It was a song of encouragement, one that spoke of resilience in the face of adversity. As the melody filled her mind, the fog seemed to lighten, and the Wraith's hold on her memories loosened.
"I'm not weak," she said, her voice growing stronger. "I've survived too much to give up now."
Elsewhere in the forest, Lucian had finally reached the clearing where the air was thickest with dark energy. The moment he saw Izzy standing there, her eyes wide and unfocused, he knew she was fighting a losing battle against the Wraith. The creature's form was partially visible, a swirling mass of shadows that wrapped around her, feeding on her despair.
"Get away from her!" Lucian bellowed, swinging his scythe with such force that the air seemed to crackle around it. The blade tore through the mist, dispelling the shadows that clung to Izzy.
The Wraith recoiled, its twisted voice screeching in frustration. It shifted its focus to Lucian, recognizing the power he wielded. "You cannot save her, Reaper," it hissed, its shape solidifying into a grotesque figure. "Her memories are mine."
Lucian didn't hesitate. "We'll see about that," he snarled, lunging forward with his scythe. But the Wraith was elusive, vanishing and reappearing in the fog, taunting him with flashes of his own past. He saw the face of the comrade he had lost, heard their voice calling out for help. The Wraith was trying to unnerve him, to break his focus by dredging up the one failure that still haunted him.
"Not this time," Lucian growled, shaking off the illusion. He swung his scythe in a wide arc, and the blade glowed with the dark energy of his reaper magic, dispelling the illusions. "You won't take anyone else from me."
The Wraith's attention had shifted away from Izzy, and for the first time since entering the clearing, she could breathe again. The lullaby still echoed in her mind, reminding her of the love and warmth she had known before the darkness took over. As she drew on those memories, something within her seemed to stir—a spark of power she didn't know she possessed.
Her hands trembled as she lifted them, and she could feel the energy coursing through her veins. It was raw and unfamiliar, but it was there, and she knew it was connected to the very essence of Hell. The emotions that had once been a source of pain now fueled a new strength within her. She could feel the magic taking shape, and as she focused, the power began to gather in her palms, manifesting as a faint, shimmering light.
"I won't let you control me," she shouted, directing the magic toward the Wraith. The light exploded from her hands, tearing through the dark energy that surrounded the creature. The Wraith howled as the magic burned away the shadows, leaving it exposed and vulnerable.
Lucian took the opportunity to strike, driving his scythe deep into the Wraith's form. The creature shrieked one final time before dissolving into a wisp of smoke, its grip on the world finally broken.
As the last of the fog dissipated, Lucian approached Izzy cautiously. She was still standing, though visibly shaken, and the light that had surrounded her had dimmed to a faint glow. He had seen something in her that he hadn't expected—an awakening of power that was rare even among those who had been in Hell for centuries.
"You did well," he said, his voice softer than usual. "Not many can face a Memory Wraith and walk away."
Izzy turned to look at him, her expression a mixture of exhaustion and relief. "I… I remembered the song," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's what helped me fight back."
Lucian nodded, a faint smile touching his lips. "Sometimes, it's the smallest things that keep us going," he replied, his gaze shifting to the spot where the Wraith had fallen. "But don't get too comfortable. There's still a long way to go."
The chapter ends with Lucian glancing back at the forest's depths, the darkness still looming. "We've only just begun," he mutters under his breath, hinting at the challenges still to come.