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The Shadow(1)
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2024-11-01 10:29:09Seraphina's POV
The voice that reached my ears was laced with hesitation, confusion, and a faint plea for confirmation, as if it came from another world entirely. It was soft yet distant, echoing in the vastness of the shadowy space that had consumed us. The malicious gaze I had felt bearing down on me earlier—cold, oppressive, and suffocating—vanished suddenly. For a fleeting moment, I felt relief as the invisible strings that had bound my body, controlling me like a puppet, loosened. I could once again feel my own limbs, reclaiming the autonomy that had been momentarily lost.
I opened my mouth, intending to speak, to ask something—anything—but before I could get the words out, the dark figure before us shifted. Its form, cloaked in shadows, stretched out its hand towards me and Stephen once again. Instinctively, I braced myself for another attempt to seize us, my pulse quickening as the familiar sense of danger washed over me.
But this time, it didn’t come to strangle or harm us.
Instead, the figure’s hand shot forward and pushed us away with startling force. Stephen and I were hurled backward, the air rushing past us as we flew several meters across the dimly lit chamber. The impact was sharp but not brutal; our wolf instincts kicked in, and we landed gracefully, finding our balance with ease.
Along with that powerful push came the sudden, agonizing shattering of the hidden space we had been trapped in. It was like watching glass fracture under immense pressure, cracks spreading in all directions before the entire illusion crumbled away. As it broke apart, a voice, filled with pain and struggle, reverberated around us, desperate yet commanding.
"Go!"
The word echoed through the room, bouncing off the walls, resonating with an urgency that made my heart clench. I glanced at Stephen, his wide blue eyes mirroring the same shock and confusion that I felt. Before either of us could move, the shadowy figure vanished from where it had stood, disappearing into thin air as if it had never been there in the first place.
And then, a heartbeat later, the figure reappeared on the massive stone altar at the center of the room. It stood at the heart of a six-pointed star etched into the ground, an ancient symbol that pulsed faintly with eerie red light, glowing like the blood-red moon hanging above us.
The figure’s face—if it could still be called that—began to crack. Thin fissures spread across the surface, revealing the faint outline of a person beneath the layers of darkness. Blood-red petals, delicate and haunting, bloomed from within those cracks, spilling out like small rivers of color against the shadowy form. The more the petals blossomed, the more the figure began to shrink and wither, as if being devoured from the inside out.
I stood frozen, my gaze locked on the figure, even as the overwhelming sense of grief and dread clawed its way into my chest. I already knew. I had known from the moment the shadows had started to take shape.
This figure—this being that was slowly being consumed by blood and shadow—was my mother. The woman who had always seemed so distant, so powerful, the current head of the Moonbane family. Lucine Moonbane.
Even though her form had been distorted beyond recognition, I could still feel her presence, faint but unmistakable. It was her. And she was dying, or worse—being devoured.
A crackling sound filled the air, and more fissures spread from the figure’s head down to its feet, opening like wounds. I could see flashes of the blood-red flowers sprouting from her, their petals gleaming under the sickening light of the moon. The flowers grew larger, expanding as if they were feeding on her very essence. The figure became more brittle, more hollow, and I couldn’t help but glance up at the sky, at the red moon, the same one that was said to be the source of the Moonbane family’s power—and its curse.
My mother was fighting it. I could see her struggling to hold the darkness around her, to control the shadows that wrapped around her like a second skin, trying to smother the flowers that sprouted from within her. But no matter how hard she fought, the gaps continued to widen, letting more of the moon’s cursed light spill into the reality around us.
And deep down, I knew. I could feel it in my bones.
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