Page 16

The night air presses against us, thick and damp, as if the forest itself holds its breath in anticipation of our arrival. Shadows flicker like restless phantoms under the crescent moon's pale glow, and the world feels impossibly small, swallowed by the vast, brooding presence of Blackthorn Woods.

Ravenna, cloaked in her dark robes, stands at the forefront with Sylvie beside her. The three elders she’s brought along are imposing figures, their silence carrying an authority that makes even Viago hold his tongue. Nicole and Rebecca linger close, their gazes darting between the trees, tension etched into their faces. The faction leaders—myself, Dorian, Viago, and the two Unbound representatives, Vada and Kristoff—stand in a loose circle, keeping our distance but united by necessity.

“We move quickly and quietly,” I say, breaking the silence like the crack of a distant storm. My voice carries low but firm, slicing through the thick anticipation hanging between us. “This isn’t a battle of brute force. Precision is key. The wards will make us stumble if we’re not careful, and the traps are designed to split us apart.”

Viago chuckles softly, the sound grating in the stillness. “A lesson in caution from you, Lucian? How refreshing.”

I ignore him, focusing instead on Sylvie. She’s watching the woods with a steady gaze, though I can see the faint tremor in her hands. I step closer, lowering my voice. “Are you ready?”

She meets my gaze, her nod steady. Her voice resolute, she says, “Let’s finish this.”

Ravenna steps forward, her voice sharp and commanding. “The elders and I will perform the incantation alongside of you once we have the Mirror of Thorns. But understand this, all of you: the wards are layered and malicious. They won’t just disorient us. They’ll attack our minds. Our memories. Stay close to each other, or you’ll lose yourselves in the magic.”

“Comforting,” Vada mutters, adjusting the blade strapped to her side.

The group stands in tense silence as we finalize the plan before entering the forest. Viago steps forward, his tone uncharacteristically serious as he addresses everyone. “We all know what’s at stake. No one goes off on their own, no matter the reason. These woods aren’t just haunted by magic—they’re alive with it. Stick with the group.”

Ravenna nods, her gaze sweeping over the faction leaders. “The witches and the vampires will need to support one another. Our magic and your strength complement each other. If you see a ward, call for one of us. Don’t assume you can bypass it with brute force.”

“The elders and I will deal with the most complex enchantments,” one of the older witches adds, her voice low but steady. “But we’ll need your protection if things get chaotic.”

Dorian crosses his arms, his expression unreadable. “And what about Sylvie? Are we really putting all our faith in someone so new to this?”

Before I can respond, Sylvie speaks up, her voice firm. “I know I’m not as experienced as the rest of you, but I’ve studied this. I’ve been working on the incantation as well as getting stronger. I haven’t had long, but I’ve made good use of my time. I’ve studied the wards, practiced counterspells, and I’m ready. You don’t have to trust me, but you will need me.”

Her words hang in the air, and for a moment, no one speaks. Then Ravenna places a hand on Sylvie’s shoulder. “She’s right. Tonight isn’t about doubt. It’s about action.”

Kristoff exhales sharply. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong, we adapt and we do what we need to survive. Agreed?”

A murmur of assent ripples through the group, and I take the opportunity to meet Sylvie’s gaze. Her determination is unmistakable, and I can’t help the surge of admiration I feel for her.

“Stay close to me,” I tell her quietly. “Please.”

She nods, and with one last glance at the group, I signal for us to move forward into the woods.

The trees loom around us like silent sentinels, their skeletal branches clawing at the heavens in a gesture of defiance. The path beneath our feet is uneven, roots jutting out like grasping fingers. I keep Sylvie within arm’s reach, my senses tuned to the unnatural hum of the wards. The magic here isn’t subtle. It presses against my mind, whispering doubts and fears that aren’t my own.

“Stop,” Sylvie says suddenly, her voice cutting through the silence. She holds up a hand, her eyes narrowed as she scans the path ahead. The group halts, everyone tensing as the air seems to shift around us.

“What is it?” Viago asks impatiently, though there’s a note of caution in his tone.

“A ward,” Sylvie murmurs, stepping closer to the invisible boundary. Her hand hovers in the air, and a faint shimmer of energy ripples like disturbed water. It’s almost imperceptible, but now that she’s pointed it out, I feel the hum of its presence, like static in the air. There’s a small smile on her lips, and I can tell she’s proud of herself for sensing it.

“It’s designed to confuse,” she continues, her voice steady despite the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. “If we’d walked through, we would’ve ended up circling back without even realizing it. It’s laced with misdirection magic and something... darker.”

Ravenna moves to her side, her brow furrowing as she studies the shimmer. “The layering is intricate. It’s meant to disorient while draining anyone who tries to counter it.”

“Can you break it?” I ask, keeping my voice low.

Sylvie nods slowly, though the strain is already visible in the tightness of her jaw. “I can do it.” She looks at Ravenna, who nods and allows her to take the lead.

Sylvie closes her eyes, her hands lifting in deliberate, fluid motions. Words spill from her lips, quiet but resonant, as though they carry their own power. The shimmer intensifies, the ward resisting her intrusion. A sudden crackle of energy snaps outward, and she stumbles slightly, catching herself before Ravenna can reach her.

“Focus, Sylvie,” Ravenna says, her tone firm but supportive. “You’re stronger than this magic. Feel for the core and unravel it.”

Sylvie nods again, her breathing steadying as she adjusts her movements. The air grows heavier, charged with opposing forces, and I feel the hairs on my arms rise as the ward pushes back. Her fingers trace patterns in the air, and with each pass, the shimmer dims slightly, its resistance faltering.

A low hum builds, the ward’s final act of defiance, before Sylvie lets out a sharp, commanding word and flicks her wrist. The energy shatters like glass, dissolving into nothing. The oppressive weight lifts, leaving the path ahead clear but still foreboding.

She sways, and I step forward, my hand at her elbow. “Good work, love,” I say softly, the words carrying more weight than they seem. She offers me a faint smile, her exhaustion already visible but tempered by pride.

“We need to keep moving,” Ravenna says, her eyes scanning the woods. “The wards will only get stronger the closer we get to the stronghold.”

Sylvie straightens, brushing a hand across her brow. “We’ll handle it,” she says, her voice resolute. And as we press on, I can’t help but feel a swell of pride—and worry—for her.

As we move deeper into the forest, the traps grow more insidious. Every few steps, someone catches the faint shimmer of a ward or the glint of a magical snare. It’s not long before another obstacle halts our progress entirely. A wall of thorns, glistening with an eerie black ichor, rises before us, blocking the narrow path forward.

“Blood magic,” Ravenna says, her voice tight. “It’s designed to respond to pain. If we cut through, it will only grow stronger.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Viago asks, his tone clipped.

Sylvie steps forward, her gaze focused. “Let me try something. I just read about this one.” She kneels before the wall, her hands hovering over the tangled vines. The air around her hums with energy as she mutters an incantation. For a moment, the thorns writhe, resisting her efforts, but then they begin to recede, shrinking back into the earth.

“Not bad, new chick,” Vada mutters, though her tone is grudgingly impressed.

We press on, but the forest seems to fight us at every turn. One trap sends jagged shards of ice shooting from the ground, narrowly missing Kristoff. Another conjures phantom figures that whisper cruel lies, their voices weaving doubt and anger into our minds. The witches and vampires are forced to work together, their strengths complementing one another.

“Hold them off,” Ravenna shouts as spectral wolves emerge from the shadows, their eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Dorian and Vada move as one, their blades slicing through the ethereal forms while Ravenna and Sylvie combine their magic to seal the breach the wolves emerged from.

Before we can catch our breath, a new sound pierces the air—the sharp crack of branches breaking. I whip around, my senses screaming danger, just as a group of Solstice Society enforcers bursts through the trees. Their dark robes are adorned with sigils that glimmer with enchantments, and their faces are masked, but their intent is clear.

“They know we’re here!” Viago shouts, drawing his blade.

The group scatters, forming a defensive line. The enforcers waste no time, unleashing bolts of dark magic that sizzle through the air. One strikes a nearby tree, splitting it in half with a deafening crack.

“Witches, focus on countering their magic!” I call out, deflecting an incoming strike with my blade. The impact sends a jolt through my arm, but I don’t falter. “The rest of us will keep them off you!”

Ravenna raises her hands, her voice ringing out as she chants a counterspell. Sylvie moves beside her, their magic intertwining as they send a surge of energy toward the enforcers. Two of them are thrown back, crashing into the underbrush, but more step forward to take their place.

One of the enforcers lunges at Dorian, a blade glinting in the moonlight. He parries the attack with practiced ease, his movements fluid and precise. Vada joins him, her strikes fast and lethal as she takes down another attacker.

Nicole and Rebecca stand back-to-back, their magic forming a protective barrier around the witches as they work. Rebecca winces, her focus faltering as an enforcer hurls a curse at her, but Nicole steps in, deflecting the attack with a well-placed shield.

“They’re stalling us!” Ravenna shouts over the chaos. “We need to break through!”

Sylvie grits her teeth, her hands glowing with power. “I can push them back, but I’ll need a clear path!”

“Do it, love!” I call, slicing through an enforcer who gets too close. “We’ll cover you!”

The group tightens around Sylvie, creating a protective circle as she gathers her magic. The air vibrates with energy, the ground beneath us trembling as her power builds. With a fierce cry, she releases it, a wave of light erupting outward. The enforcers are thrown back, their cries of pain fading as they’re hurled into the trees.

For a moment, there’s silence. Then Viago lets out a low chuckle. “Impressive. Remind me never to get on your bad side, Sylvie.”

“Let’s keep moving,” I say, my voice sharp. “That was just the first wave. They’ll send more.”

The group regains its formation, bruised and battered but determined. As we press on, the woods grow darker, the air heavier with magic. Every step feels like a battle, but we move forward, united by the singular purpose that drives us all: to end the Solstice Society once and for all. To save ourselves.

As we near the edge of the woods, the air becomes stifling. A sudden pulse of energy ripples through the ground, and I barely have time to shout a warning before the earth splits open, revealing a pit filled with writhing tendrils of dark magic. They lash and twist like living things, reaching for anything within range.

“Go around!” Viago orders, but Sylvie steps forward instead, her eyes fixed on the pit.

“No,” she says firmly. “We don’t have time. Let me neutralize it.”

“You don’t have to do this alone,” I tell her, stepping to her side. The power radiating from the pit is intense, oppressive, and I can feel the strain already tugging at the edges of my mind. “Let the others help.”

She glances at me, a flicker of gratitude in her eyes, before nodding. “Ravenna, I need your help.”

The two witches exchange a brief look, and then Ravenna steps forward, her hands already moving in precise, practiced gestures. “Rebecca, Nicole, support us. We’ll need to combine our strength to dismantle this.”

The three witches form a triangle around Sylvie, their magic building like a storm. Sylvie takes the lead, her voice rising in a steady chant as she reaches toward the pit. The tendrils react violently, snapping and writhing, sending sparks of dark energy into the air. One lashes toward Sylvie, but I’m there before it can reach her, slicing through it with my blade. The severed magic dissipates into smoke, but the tendrils grow more frenzied.

“We need more time!” Ravenna shouts, her voice strained as she channels her energy into Sylvie’s spell.

“Time isn’t something we have,” Dorian growls, stepping forward to fend off another tendril. Viago joins him, his movements precise and almost casual as he slashes through the encroaching magic.

Nicole and Rebecca close their eyes, adding their voices to Sylvie’s chant. The air hums with power, a tangible force that vibrates through my bones. The pit resists, the dark magic pushing back with a fury that feels almost sentient.

“Now!” Ravenna commands.

Sylvie’s eyes snap open, glowing with a brilliant light. She extends her hands toward the pit, and with a final cry, a burst of energy explodes outward. The tendrils writhe one last time before disintegrating into ash. The pit seals itself with a groaning sound, the ground smoothing as though it had never been disturbed.

Everyone is still for a moment, the only sound our ragged breathing.

“Good teamwork,” Nicole says, though her voice is shaky. She leans against Rebecca, exhaustion etched into her face.

Ravenna places a hand on Sylvie’s shoulder, steadying her. “You did well. That was… intricate magic, and you handled it with control. I am so proud of you, dear.”

Sylvie nods, though her shoulders sag with fatigue. “Thanks. I couldn’t have done it without all of you.”

“Let’s hope we’re ready for whatever comes next,” I say, my eyes fixed on the dark silhouette of the stronghold looming ahead. The air around us is still heavy, charged with the residual energy of the magic we’ve faced.

Viago smirks, brushing off his coat. “This is only the prelude. The real challenge lies inside.”

The group regains its formation, bruised and battered but resolute. As we press forward, I can’t shake the feeling that the forest has one last test waiting for us. But for now, the path is clear, and the stronghold beckons—ominous and unyielding.

After what feels like hours, the forest begins to thin, revealing the faint outline of the Solstice Society’s stronghold. Its dark spires loom like jagged knives against the night sky, their silhouettes wreathed in an unnatural haze. The air here feels thick, pressing against us with the weight of layered magic that hums with warning.

Viago gestures for everyone to halt, his eyes scanning the terrain ahead. “This is it. The Mirror is inside. Stick to the plan.” His voice is low but sharp, and for once, there’s no smirk on his face—only grim determination.

The stronghold’s perimeter is surrounded by an open expanse, barren of trees but filled with the remnants of old wards. The faint glimmer of sigils etched into the ground catches the moonlight, their magic still active despite the years. Ravenna steps closer, crouching near one of the larger symbols. She doesn’t touch it, but her expression tightens.

“The wards here are ancient,” she says. “More potent than the ones in the forest. We can’t simply dismantle them; they’re tied to the stronghold itself.”

“So how do we get through?” Dorian asks, his voice edged with impatience.

“We work together,” Ravenna replies, standing and dusting off her hands. She glances at the elders, then at Sylvie. “The witches will channel a shield to neutralize the ward’s effects temporarily, but we’ll need the vampires to cover us. These sigils are likely tied to alarms as well as defenses, and we’ll draw attention the moment we step inside.”

Kristoff scoffs. “Great. A stealthy approach was too much to hope for.”

“You knew what you signed up for,” Viago snaps, his patience wearing thin. “Focus on the task at hand.”

Sylvie steps forward, her gaze fixed on the stronghold. “If we can neutralize the outer wards, I can try to sense the weaker points in their internal defenses. It might give us a chance to move without alerting everyone inside.”

“That’s a big if,” Vada mutters, but she steps into formation with the others regardless.

The witches fan out, their hands raised as they begin to weave a protective barrier. Sylvie’s voice rises alongside Ravenna’s and the elders’, their magic intertwining into a shimmering dome that pulses outward. The air crackles with energy, and the sigils beneath our feet dim slightly, their power suppressed but not extinguished.

“Move now,” Ravenna commands.

We cross the barren expanse quickly, the vampires forming a protective circle around the witches. Every step feels like a battle, the suppressed wards fighting against the shield with bursts of residual energy. One of the sigils flares suddenly, and a blast of light erupts toward the group. Viago moves faster than thought, deflecting the attack with a blade that hums with enchantment.

“Stay sharp!” he barks.

Another burst of energy strikes toward Rebecca, but Nicole intercepts it, her shield shimmering as it absorbs the impact. The strain is visible on her face, but she doesn’t falter. Meanwhile, Sylvie’s focus remains on the stronghold, her eyes glowing faintly as she channels her magic.

“There,” she says, pointing toward a section of the outer wall. “That’s the weakest point in their defenses. If we concentrate our efforts, we can break through.”

Dorian and Vada exchange a glance before stepping forward, their weapons ready. “We’ll clear the path,” Dorian says, his tone resolute.

As they advance, the wards lash out again, sending jagged streaks of energy toward the group. The vampires move in unison, their speed and precision a stark contrast to the chaotic magic surrounding us. Vada’s blade slices through an incoming tendril of energy, while Dorian’s movements are a blur, his strikes calculated and efficient.

Behind them, the witches intensify their efforts, their chants growing louder as they channel more power into the shield. Ravenna’s voice cuts through the din, commanding and steady. “Sylvie, now!”

Sylvie steps forward, her hands glowing with an intense light. She raises them toward the weak point in the wall, her magic surging outward in a focused beam. The wall trembles, cracks spidering across its surface as the combined energy of the group presses against it. The wards scream in defiance, their energy rippling outward in one final, desperate attempt to hold us back.

With a deafening crack, the wall gives way, a section crumbling inward to reveal the shadowed interior of the stronghold. The crushing weight of the wards eases, though the air inside thrums with latent menace, like the lingering vibration of a struck bell.

Viago steps through first, his blade drawn, eyes narrowed as he surveys the dimly lit corridor beyond. "No turning back now," he says, his voice a quiet edge of resolve.

I glance at Sylvie, her face pale but determined, like the faint glow of a candle braving a storm. "Stay close," I murmur, the words more a plea than a command. She nods, her hand brushing mine briefly before she steps forward, her gaze fixed on the darkness ahead.

The final test lies inside, and there’s no turning back.