Echoes of the Past
"Stay close to me," he said, his voice low but commanding.
Lyra didn't respond, her eyes fixed on the woman who haunted their steps.
The Keeper-turned-shadow weaver smirked, her icy gaze pinning Lyra in place."You think you can stop me?" the woman taunted, her voice smooth and venomous.
"You don't even understand the power you hold, child.""I understand enough," Lyra snapped back, her voice forcing steel into it. "Enough to know that power doesn't have to corrupt."
She laughed, the sound sharp and mocking. "Spoken like someone who hasn't yet tasted true power. But you will, Keeper. The shadows will seep into you, just as they did to him." Her gaze shifted to Kieran, her smirk deepening. "Tell her, Kieran.
Tell her how you were once like me."Lyra looked at him, her gut twisting. She knew he harbored darkness within himself, but to hear it laid out like this was what made her chilled.
"Kieran?" she asked softly.
His jaw clenched, the hand around his sword growing tighter. "This isn't the time," he said through gritted teeth, his voice heavy with regret.
"Isn't it?" the woman asked. "She needs to know who she's fighting beside, who she's going to die for."
Lyra advanced, her light blazing brighter. "Enough!" She bellowed, cutting through the air. "What Kieran is or isn't doesn't change who he is now. He's here for what is right. That is all that counts."
The woman cocked her head, amusement dancing across her face. "How sweet. Let's see how long that loyalty lasts."
With a wave of her hand, the shadows charged forward like a tidal wave, crashing toward them with a deafening roar. Kieran leapt forward to protect Lyra, his sword slicing through the darkness, but the impact of the attack sent them both tumbling.
She jumped to her feet, magic spilling over in her, Duskwraiths coming from the darkness as their bodies melted and became distorted. She hit them off with blasts of light, but there were too many of them; claws scrawled across the air.
"Kieran!" she shouted, panic rising in her chest as she saw him engaged with a particularly large Wraith. He moved in precise, almost fluid motions, but she could see the tension in his eyes.
"I'm fine!" he called back, his voice strained. "Pay attention to the monolith!"
Dark energy pulsed in the monolith, a fresh wave of shadows sent back to the clearing with each beat. Lyra knew Kieran was right; they had to stop the source. But each step toward it was like quicksand, with the weight of darkness pressing upon her.
"Come on, Lyra," she whispered to herself. "You can do this."
She pressed through the tide of shadows, her light growing stronger. The silver-haired woman watched her, a look of disdain on her face.
"You think your feeble light will be able to put out the darkness?" she sneered. "You are a fool."
She ignored it, focusing all her energy on the monolith. Her magic pulsed in time with its dark energy, and she felt a jolt of realization: they were connected. If she could disrupt its rhythm, maybe she could weaken it.
Just as she raised her hands, a scream tore through the clearing.
"Kieran!" Lyra spun around in time to see him drop to his knees, a shadowy tendril wrapped around his torso. The big Duskwraith loomed over him, claws poised for the kill.
"No!" Lyra screamed, her light surging in response to her fear. She blasted the creature with a beam of magic, disintegrating it in an instant. The tendril holding Kieran vanished, and he collapsed onto the ground, gasping for air.
She was at his side in an instant, her hands glowing as she checked him for injuries. "Kieran, are you okay?"
His hand shot out, gripping her wrist. "Lyra, listen to me," he said urgently. "You have to destroy the monolith. Don't stop, no matter what happens to me."
"I'm not leaving you," she said, her voice trembling.
"You must!" His grip was like a vice, and his eyes were burning with desperation. "If that thing keeps standing, it will be of little matter if I survive. Darkness will engulf everything. Please, Lyra. Promise me."
Tears pricked at her eyes, and she nodded. "I promise."
She stepped up, the resolve in her rising as she turned back towards the monolith. The woman with silvered hair stood before it, outstretched arms channeling power from it.
"You can't win," she said, and her voice boomed with an unnatural resonance. "Even if you destroy this, the darkness will always find a way."
"Not if I have anything to say about it," Lyra shot back. Focusing every last streak of energy, she drew upon all the light magic she possessed. Her hands glowed brighter and brighter until the clearing was bathed in radiant light.
For the first time, her expression faltered, a flicker of fear crossing her face. "What are you doing?" she demanded.
"Ending this," Lyra said.
She released it all in a blinding explosion, the light colliding with the monolith in a deafening roar. The ground shuddered; the shadows screamed as they burned away.
As soon as the light went out, the monolith was just dust. There was silence where once there was oppression, oppressive darkness. Lyra fell forward on her knees, spent.
"Kieran?" she whispered weakly into the silence, her voice not much above a whisper.
She did not reply.
Panic gripped her as she crawled to where she'd left him. He lay motionless, his sword still clutched in his hand. "No, no, no," she whispered, her hands glowing faintly as she tried to heal him.
His eyes flickered open, and relief flooded her. "You did it," he said, his voice weak.
"We did it," she corrected, tears streaming down her face.
But their moment of relief was to be short-lived. A low rumble echoed through the forest, and Lyra turned to see a new figure emerging out of the shadows, a towering being shrouded in darkness, its eyes burning with malevolent light.
"This isn't over," it said, its voice shaking the ground.
Lyra's heart sank as she realized the fight was far from over. The true source of the darkness had revealed itself, and it was more powerful than anything she'd ever faced before.
The forest was unnaturally still, as if the world itself held its breath. Lyra and Kieran stood at the edge of a narrow ravine, the only path to the darkened ruins ahead where the heart of the shadow's power pulsed. Lyra's fingers glowed faintly, her light magic instinctively responding to the oppressive energy in the air. Beside her, Kieran's hand rested on the hilt of his sword, his body tense and ready.
"Once we cross that line, there's no turning back," Kieran said, his voice low but firm. His dark eyes met hers, searching for doubt. "Are you prepared for this?"
Lyra nodded, though the rapid pounding of her heart betrayed her nerves. "I don't think I'll ever feel prepared," she admitted. "But if we don't stop this, no one else will."
Kieran hesitated, then reached out, his calloused fingers brushing against hers. "We do this together," he said softly. "No matter what happens."
She let her eyes linger on him, feeling a spurt of strength she hadn't expected. "Together."
The ruins loomed before them, crumbling walls wrapped in tendrils of shadow, each step heavier than the last, as though the very darkness pressed against them. Lyra's light flickered like a fragile flame, and Kieran stayed close, his presence a steadying force.
"I can feel it," she breathed. "The darkness. It is alive."
"It is," Kieran said gruffly. "And it's been waiting for you."
The import of his words lay heavy in the air between them, but neither could linger to absorb it. A low growl rumbled through the wreckage, and dark shapes began moving, growing into the Duskwraith forms of twisted bone. Their eyes glowed, shining from them like some malignant heat, a sense of hunger and malice settling on Lyra.
Kieran stepped forward, drawing his sword. "Stay behind me," he said with a firm tone that brooked no denial.
Lyra's light flared brighter in protest. "Not this time. We fight together."
Kieran shot her a look of both frustration and admiration. Before he could even voice an argument, the Duskwraiths attacked.
It was a blur of light and shadow, steel and claw. Kieran moved like a force of nature, cutting through the creatures with lethal precision. Lyra channeled her magic, piercing the darkness with beams of light that made the Wraiths crumble to ash.
Despite all of it, the beasts just kept piling on until it seemed they weren't numerous enough to clutter the skies themselves. Lyra's chest smoldered, and sweat plastered her face so that still, she refused herself the twitch to flinch out of pain there. Beside her, and mute to report it was, Kieran was not alone.
"Kieran, behind you!" She yelled again, casting light blinding the face of a wraith that flung itself across Kieran's back.
He whirled and stabbed forward to dispatch the creature. "Thanks," he said with a slight lift at his mouth of what passed for a grin. "You're getting pretty good at this."
Lyra's lips were strained across a brief, windless laugh.
As the final Duskwraith dissipated into smoke, there came a chilling laughter, carried through the ruins on living echoes. Lyra and Kieran turned to watch the dark figure come stepping out of the shadows: a woman with silver hair and obsidian eyes polished bright as glass, walked with cruel elegance to hold dominance in her presence.
"So, this is the Keeper," the woman said, her voice a mix of mockery and menace. "You're just as pathetic as I imagined."
Lyra stepped forward, her light flaring instinctively. "Who are you?"
The woman's lips curled into a sinister smile. "I am what you fear, child. I am the darkness you will never escape."
"Enough of the theatrics," Kieran growled, drawing his sword. "If you're here to stop us, you'd best do a better job of it."
Her gaze cut over to him. "Ah, Kieran," she said with an increase of her smile. "Always so eager to be a hero. Tell me, does she know the truth about you? About the shadows that still cling to your soul?
Lyra's breath caught at the venom in the woman's words. "What is she talking about?" she demanded, turning to Kieran.
His jaw tightened, his grip on his sword unwavering. "It doesn't matter," he said curtly. "She's just trying to distract you."
She laughed at that, a cold laugh, the kind that made Lyra's spine crawl. "Ah, it matters, little Keeper," she said. "You're trusting a man who once served the darkness he claims to fight."
Lyra turned to look at Kieran. "Is that true?
He didn't respond immediately, his silence more damning than any words. Finally, he said, "I did things I'm not proud of, Lyra. But I've spent every moment since trying to make up for it."
"Lies," the woman hissed. "He can't escape what he is. And neither can you."
The woman raised her hands, and the shadows around her swelled forward, sweeping the ruins back into darkness. Lyra's light shivered and fought the tide, but she was knocked off balance by a touch on her shoulder. It was Kieran.
"Focus," he said. "You're stronger than this."
Lyra shut her eyes, tapping the feeling of his touch into herself and the memory of every battle they'd fought together. Her light blazed brighter, cutting into the dark and making the woman withdraw.
The silver-haired woman snarled, and her elegant front cracked. "You think you've won? This is only the beginning."
A wave of her hand with the callout of a massive shadow creature, its form morphing and reforming in an amorphous condition, lunged at them in a great roar that shook the earth beneath.
Kieran stepped forward ahead of Lyra, sword flashing, ready. "Run," he said, his voice neutral but succinct.
"No!" she screamed, grabbing his arm. "I am not leaving you!"
"This isn't up for debate," he said, his eyes locking onto hers. "If I don't stop this thing, it'll destroy you. And I can't." His voice broke, but he regained himself quickly. "I won't let that happen."
Lyra's heart ached at the raw emotion in his voice. "We fight it together," she insisted. "You're not sacrificing yourself for me."
Kieran hesitated, torn between his instincts to protect her and his growing trust in her strength. Finally, he nodded. "Together."
The battle was fierce, the shadow creature relentless. Lyra and Kieran worked in perfect sync, their bond stronger than ever. But as they fought, the silver-haired woman watched from the shadows, her expression calculating.
"You are wasting your time," she said, her voice resonating in Lyra's mind. "The darkness will consume him. It is just a matter of time."
Lyra paid no heed; she poured all the magic she could muster into the battle. But the thought, lodged firmly in her mind, struggled to tease itself out: Could she actually save Kieran from the shadows that tormented him?
As the creature fell, its death scream echoing through the ruins, Lyra and Kieran collapsed to the ground, their breaths ragged. But victory tasted hollow. The silver-haired woman was nowhere to be seen, having left behind only a chilling sound: her laughter.
Lyra turned to Kieran, her chest tight with unspoken fear. "What did she mean?" She asked. "About the darkness claiming you?"
Kieran's face was waxen, eyes aching, unreadable. "It doesn't matter," he said, soft as milk. "What matters is you're safe."
Lyra did not believe him. And she stood there while the darkness slid at the rim of the ruin, thinking it might be so much more than a boast—a warning, really.
They were not quite done yet.
The fight. The darkness.