THE ECLIPSE APPROACHES
The air had grown heavier, a palpable tension pressing down on Amara and Lysander as they traveled through the forest. The trees seemed darker, their shadows unnaturally long, and the once vibrant foliage now appeared wilted and lifeless.
"It's beginning," Lysander said grimly, his chains snapping at invisible threats in the air.
Amara glanced at the sky. The sun, once bright and unwavering, now flickered faintly behind creeping tendrils of darkness. The shadow of the eclipse loomed larger with every passing moment, a harbinger of the curse's manifestation.
"How much time do we have?" she asked, clutching the locket around her neck.
"A few days at most," Lysander replied, his voice laced with urgency. "Once the eclipse is complete, the curse will reach its full power. And so will the forces that hunt us."
Amara's stomach churned. The vision from the Mirror of Truth haunted her—visions of fire, destruction, and the unbearable loneliness of a world without Lysander.
As they pressed onward, a familiar voice echoed through the trees.
"Amara! Lysander!"
Selene emerged from the shadows, her face pale and drawn. Her usual confidence was gone, replaced by an expression of worry and desperation.
"What are you doing here?" Lysander demanded, his chains coiling protectively around Amara.
"I've come to warn you," Selene said, her gaze darting between them. "The Celestials are closer than you think. Dorian won't stop until he gets to Amara. You need to leave this realm—now."
Amara stepped forward. "Leave? Where are we supposed to go? Every realm we've been to has tried to kill us."
"There's one place they can't follow you," Selene said hesitantly. "The Shadow Abyss."
Lysander's expression darkened. "Absolutely not. That place is suicide."
"It's your only chance," Selene argued. "The curse is tied to the shadows. If you can survive the Abyss, you might find a way to weaken its grip before the eclipse."
Amara glanced at Lysander. "Is it true? Could the Abyss help us?"
He hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "The Abyss is dangerous, but there are ancient forces there—forces that predate even the Celestials. If anyone knows how to stop the curse, it's them."
Selene's gaze softened as she looked at Lysander. "I wouldn't suggest this if I didn't think it was your only chance. Please, trust me."
As the sun dipped lower, casting the forest in deep shadows, Amara felt a strange energy in the air. The sigil on her wrist burned faintly, as if responding to the growing darkness.
"We need to make a decision," she said, her voice firm. "If the Abyss is our only hope, then we have to take the risk."
Lysander frowned but didn't argue. "If we go there, you'll need to be stronger than ever. The creatures in the Abyss will sense your power and try to consume it. You can't let them break you."
"I won't," she promised.
The ground beneath them rumbled suddenly, and a wave of cold air swept through the forest. Amara and Lysander spun around to see figures emerging from the shadows—Celestial hunters.
"You have no idea how much I've been looking forward to this," said a familiar voice. Dorian stepped into the clearing, his celestial blade gleaming in the fading light. "Did you really think you could outrun me?"
Amara's heart raced as more hunters surrounded them, their weapons drawn.
Lysander stepped in front of Amara, his chains snapping in the air. "You'll have to go through me first."
"With pleasure," Dorian sneered, lunging forward.
The clearing erupted into chaos. Lysander's chains clashed against Dorian's blade, sparks flying as their powers collided. Amara tried to focus, summoning the light within her, but the sigil on her wrist flared painfully, distracting her.
"Stay close to me!" Lysander shouted, deflecting a strike aimed at her.
But the hunters were relentless, their attacks coordinated. Amara felt herself being pushed back, the weight of their assault overwhelming.
"You're running out of time, Catalyst," Dorian taunted, his blade inches from Lysander's throat. "The eclipse will consume you both, and there's nothing you can do to stop it."
Summoning all her strength, Amara unleashed a burst of light, blinding the hunters long enough for her and Lysander to break free. They ran through the forest, the sound of pursuit close behind.
"We can't keep this up," Amara panted. "They'll catch us."
"Not if we reach the Abyss first," Lysander said, grabbing her hand. "Hold on to me."
With a flick of his chains, he tore open a rift in the air, revealing a swirling vortex of shadows.
"Are you sure about this?" she asked, her voice trembling.
"No," he admitted. "But we don't have a choice."
As the hunters closed in, Amara and Lysander stepped into the rift, the shadows swallowing them whole.
They emerged in a desolate wasteland, the sky an endless void of black. The air was cold and heavy, and the ground beneath their feet was cracked and lifeless.
Amara shivered, clutching her locket. "This is the Abyss?"
"Yes," Lysander said, his voice low. "And it's only going to get worse from here."
In the distance, a faint light flickered—a beacon in the darkness.
"That's where we need to go," he said, nodding toward it.
Amara took a deep breath, steeling herself. The eclipse was nearing, and the stakes had never been higher. Whatever awaited them in the Abyss, it would either be their salvation—or their doom.