The wind howled in the jagged peaks as Seraphine and her companions climbed the narrow path toward Lysandra's tower. The air stank with the heavy scent of damp earth and the faint, acrid stench of death. Above, the dark clouds seemed to tighten their grip, swirling in unnatural patterns as though the heavens themselves conspired with the Shadow King.
We have no time to lose, Seraphine said with a sharpening of words, her hand fisting the tome tighter. With every step, the weight of it became more cumbersome to bear. Her senses felt the power thrumming through her and she knew it vibrated with equal resonance through the chest of the Shadow King. Every breath brought her closer, each step further toward that final confrontation.
"We must reach Lysandra before the full force of his army reaches us," Garin agreed, his voice low but firm. He scanned the curving path before them, his eyes narrowing as he made out figures moving in the darkness.
"They're here," Elara murmured, her face pale. Her staff crackled with arcane energy, her senses strung taut as she scanned the landscape. "The Shadow King's forces are closing in on us."
Then, we'll battle our way through, Seraphine said her voice hardening in resolve. We have come this far and are not going to turn back now.
They pushed on their way, their footsteps ringing in the mountain pass. But that silence proved to be a deceit. Shadows seemed to creep up from the cracks between the stones and all around was as if something vibrated in air. Seraphine could not shake off the feeling of being watched, as if something waited there, beyond where they could see.
And then they came.
First came the figures- shadowly, ghostly figures rising from the darkness as if from nothing. Wrapped in tattered black robes, with faces veiled beneath hoods, they advanced with abhorrent speed. And something about their presence slid a chill down Seraphine's back, so that she instinctively drew her sword, its edge shining with the power of the Light.
"They are everywhere," Garin hissed, nocking an arrow to his bow.
Elara's hands wove intricate patterns in the air as she prepared her spells, the incantations flowing out around her. The ground seemed to ripple with this; the air was beginning to press upon reality, as if reality itself bent under the weight of the magical forces at play.
"We can't hold them back forever," Elara said, her voice tight with the strain of concentrating. "These aren't just ordinary shadow creatures. They're—
She shrugged, her voice cold. "—The elite of the Shadow King's chosen lieutenants."
The first of the shadow warriors snarled, its claws outstretched, glowing with an eerie dark energy. Seraphine met it head-on, sword clashing against its outstretched claws. The creature shrieked, recoiling back into the darkness as though wounded, but the wound was healing already.
"Damn it!" Seraphine cursed, muttering the words under her breath. These weren't ordinary enemies. They were creatures imbued with dark magic, and without breaking the source of their power, they'd never truly die.
Garin's arrow took flight, slicing through to hit another shadow in the chest, but it too flickered and reformed, unscathed.
A chant rose within Elara as she drew a binding spell, but the shadows came pushing forward as if they could read her intentions. "We must have something stronger," she panted, her power barely keeping back the creatures.
Seraphine looked at the book. Its power flowed through her like a thread connecting her to the very soul of the Shadow King-and yet, it was not enough. The powers of the book were growing, pulsing in rhythm with the encroaching darkness, but seemed to go neither in a direction, nor with a purpose.
"What if…?" Seraphine's voice trailed off as a thought occurred to her. She gazed at Garin. "What if we can turn the tome on them? Make it focus its magic-only bring it back on the creatures."
Elara thought for a moment. "It's a chance. The book's magic is unstable. We don't know what it might do."
"We have no other choice," Seraphine said with determination. "I'm not going to let them catch us now."
With this, she held the tome aloft, far above her head. Symbols etched into the book's cover seemed to intensify as she spoke its name and tapped into its power. Shadows recoiled as if aware of the power it contained, and Seraphine felt the tome thrum to a nearly forbidden ancient magic.
She closed her eyes and focused on the building energy within her.
Channel it. Use it as a weapon.
The world around her receded as the tome's energy rushed through her, warmed her body, and then built up to an incredible pressure. Whispers of the Abyss rose around her, but Seraphine moved forward, unwilling to be swayed by the darkness' temptations.
She felt it - an opening, a crack in the fabric of reality - and she seized it.
The codex snapped open and flung back a wave of blinding light that poured outward from every side. Shadows screamed as they were swept away by the light, their shapes dissolving into nothingness. Air vibrated with pure energy, luminous and setting alive Seraphine for a moment, as if the very forces of darkness had been pushed back.
And then the light started to wane.
The last of the shadow creatures was torn apart by the blast of energy; its forms dissolving into ether. But Seraphine's arms were trembling, her book nearly slipping out of her hands. She staggered back, overwhelmed by the sudden loss of power.
"Seraphine!" Garin shouted, running to her side.
She steadied herself, letting him bear her dizziness. "It worked," she panted. "We opened the way. But… I don't know how much longer I can keep this up."
Elara knelt beside her, putting a soothing spell on Seraphine's weary mind. "You tried too much, far too fast," Elara said sternly. "This tome is so powerful-it will consume you whole if you're not careful.".
"I am fine," Seraphine insisted, her voice weak. "We can't stop now. We must make it to Lysandra."
They trudged up the mountain, feeling the shadows spilling along the edges of sight, and there was a chill in the air the closer they came to their goal. The trail curled on up, the stone walls closed in, and then they stood before a sheer cliff face. Here was the entrance to the tower.
Seraphine's heart was pounding. That was it. The final push.
But before she could touch the stone door, that voice, dark and cold, drifted through the air.
I told you, Seraphine. You can't hide from me. You belong to me.
That was the Shadow King's voice, there so close now that he might as well have been a body, battering at her on every side.
"Prepare yourself," Seraphine whispered, her hand clutching the hilt of her sword. "The war is just starting."
With that, the stone doors of the tower groaned open, and they stepped into the darkness beyond.