The awakening of power

Chapter 19 – The Awakening of Power

The ruins of Black Hollow stood silent in the dim glow of dawn, as if they, too, were holding their breath for what was to come. The air was thick with magic—old, untamed, and waiting to be claimed. Selene stood at the apex of the ancient ziggurat, her body still trembling from the power she had just unleashed. The Rite of Reclamation had changed her, in ways she did not yet fully understand, but one thing was certain—there was no turning back.

Rylen and Cassian watched her cautiously, their eyes filled with both admiration and concern. Elira was kneeling by the pedestal, carefully inspecting the ancient carvings that still glowed faintly with residual energy. The silence between them was thick, heavy with unspoken words and questions.

Selene finally broke the quiet. "I felt something—someone—when the energy surged through me," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It wasn't just the past I saw. It was… a presence, watching, waiting."

Elira's gaze snapped to her, alarm flickering in her emerald eyes. "A presence? Can you describe it?"

Selene closed her eyes, recalling the strange sensation she had felt in the depths of her soul. "It was ancient, powerful. Not entirely malevolent, but not benevolent either. It felt… bound, as if trapped within the magic itself, waiting for something—or someone—to release it."

Rylen's hands instinctively went to the hilt of his sword, his protective instincts flaring. "If something was watching you, we need to leave. Now. The ruins are dangerous enough without unknown forces taking an interest in you."

Cassian nodded in agreement, his usual calm demeanor masking the concern in his eyes. "He's right. We don't know what kind of forces still linger here. If this presence is connected to the prophecy, it may not want you to simply reclaim your power—it may want something in return."

Selene let their words settle over her, but deep inside, she knew she could not walk away from this place just yet. Something had awakened inside her, something far greater than the dagger she carried or the prophecy she was entangled in. She had seen glimpses of the past, of a kingdom that once flourished but had been brought to ruin by its own ambition.

"I need to understand what happened here," she said finally, determination lacing her voice. "I need to know the truth."

Elira hesitated before nodding. "Then we keep searching. But we must be careful. Magic this old always comes with a cost."

Whispers of the Past

Descending from the ziggurat, the group moved cautiously through the ruins. The air was thick with a heavy stillness, as if time had folded in on itself in this forgotten place. Every crumbled wall and shattered pillar told a story of the civilization that had once stood strong.

Selene ran her fingers along the worn carvings on the ancient stones. The markings glowed faintly under her touch, reacting to her presence. A deep hum resonated in the air, as if the very walls were whispering to her.

Then, suddenly, a gust of wind surged through the temple grounds, carrying with it the faintest echoes of voices.

"She has come."

Selene's breath caught in her throat. The whisper had been so soft, so distant, yet unmistakably real.

"Did you hear that?" she asked, glancing at her companions.

Elira's expression darkened. "Yes. We are not alone here."

A chill ran down Selene's spine. The presence she had felt atop the ziggurat was growing stronger. It was no longer watching from a distance—it was drawing closer.

As they moved deeper into the ruins, they reached what appeared to be a large circular chamber, its walls covered in intricate symbols and faded murals depicting a great battle. At the center of the room stood a raised platform, upon which lay a stone altar, untouched by time.

Selene approached cautiously. The moment she stepped onto the platform, a sharp jolt of energy surged through her. Her vision blurred, and for a brief moment, the ruins around her transformed.

The walls were no longer crumbling but stood tall and pristine. Torches burned brightly, casting flickering light upon the faces of people who no longer walked this world. Warriors clad in dark armor stood in a perfect circle around the altar, their eyes glowing with an eerie silver light.

A woman stood at the center—a regal figure, draped in flowing robes of midnight blue. Her silver hair cascaded down her back, her features strikingly familiar. She held the same dagger Selene now carried, its blade glistening with raw power.

"You must finish what I could not," the woman's voice whispered through time, her gaze piercing into Selene's very soul. "The bloodline must be restored, or all will be lost."

Selene gasped as the vision shattered, leaving her back in the present. She staggered, gripping the altar for support.

"What did you see?" Elira asked urgently.

Selene's hands trembled. "A woman… She looked like me."

The Truth Beneath the Ruins

As the sun climbed higher in the sky, the group pressed on, determined to uncover the secrets buried within the ruins. They followed the markings on the walls, which led them to a hidden passage beneath the temple.

The underground tunnel was dark, damp, and filled with an unnatural stillness. Torches lined the stone walls, their flames flickering to life as Selene passed by, as if recognizing her presence.

"This place…" Rylen murmured. "It's been waiting for you."

Selene swallowed hard, her pulse quickening. She could feel it too—the pull of something greater than herself. They reached the end of the passage, where an enormous stone door stood sealed with an intricate locking mechanism.

Cassian studied the symbols carefully. "This door can only be opened by one of the bloodline."

Without thinking, Selene placed her palm against the center of the door. A pulse of energy rippled through the stone, and with a deep, resonating groan, the door began to slide open.

Beyond it lay a chamber unlike anything they had seen before. The walls shimmered with golden inscriptions, and at the very center stood an ancient throne, carved from obsidian and embedded with glowing runes. Resting upon it was a crown—delicate yet formidable, pulsing with power.

Selene stepped forward, drawn to it, but before she could reach the throne, a wave of energy erupted from the crown, forcing her back.

A voice echoed through the chamber.

"Only the rightful heir may claim the throne."

Selene gritted her teeth, the weight of the past pressing down upon her. Was she truly the one meant to restore what was lost? And if so, what price would she have to pay?

Cassian and Rylen flanked her protectively, while Elira whispered, "This is the final test, Selene. The throne will only accept you if you embrace your destiny fully."

Selene closed her eyes, inhaling deeply. She had been running from her fate for too long. If she was the heir, if she was truly meant to bring balance, then she would face it head-on.

With renewed determination, she stepped forward once more.

The moment her fingers brushed the crown, golden light exploded throughout the chamber, enveloping her in its brilliance. Memories—not just of her own, but of those who came before—rushed into her mind. Battles fought, sacrifices made, legacies forged in blood and fire.

When the light faded, Selene stood before them, the crown resting lightly upon her head, her eyes glowing with newfound power.

She turned to face her companions, her voice steady. "The past will not dictate our future. We will forge our own path—together."

And with that, the fate of Black Hollow—and the world beyond—was forever changed.!

The golden light slowly faded, leaving an eerie silence in its wake. Selene stood at the center of the ancient chamber, the crown upon her head pulsing with a quiet power. She had expected to feel overwhelmed, suffocated by the weight of a forgotten throne—but instead, she felt... whole.

The power inside her no longer felt foreign. It no longer clawed at the edges of her mind, desperate to be set free. It was hers.

She turned toward her companions. Rylen and Cassian stared at her in quiet awe, while Elira—ever the scholar—was already studying the inscriptions on the walls, her fingers tracing the glowing symbols.

"Selene," Rylen said, his voice laced with reverence and something deeper—something like fear. "Do you feel any different?"

Selene closed her eyes, reaching inside herself. For the first time, she could sense the raw, unshackled force of her magic. It was no longer just a presence lurking beneath the surface—it was alive, breathing with her, responding to her will. She could hear whispers of power in her veins, feel the thrumming pulse of something ancient inside her soul.

"I feel..." She hesitated, searching for the right words. "I feel like I finally know who I am."

Cassian took a cautious step forward. "Then the throne has accepted you."

Elira glanced at the inscriptions. "More than that. She has become part of it. This place—it was never just a ruin. It was waiting for its queen to return."

The word queen settled heavily in the air.

Selene inhaled sharply. "Then that means—"

Before she could finish, the chamber trembled violently, sending dust cascading from the ceiling. The torches flickered as the ancient energy in the room shifted, responding to something unseen.

And then, the voice returned.

"The bloodline has been restored... but the trial is not yet over."

The moment the words echoed through the chamber, the obsidian throne cracked, releasing a shockwave of energy that sent everyone stumbling backward.

From the fractured stone, shadows poured out—coiling, twisting, forming into shapes.

Figures.

At first, they were nothing more than silhouettes, but as the darkness thickened, they became clearer—warriors clad in armor, their hollow eyes glowing silver. They carried weapons forged of shadow, and as they moved, their presence made the air itself grow cold.

Selene's pulse quickened. These were not mere illusions. They were spirits. Warriors of the fallen kingdom, bound to the throne by the same power that had now accepted her.

"Prove your worth."

The command came from nowhere and everywhere all at once.

Selene barely had time to react before the first warrior lunged.

Trial by Combat

Rylen was the first to meet the attack, his sword flashing as he intercepted the shadowed blade aimed at Selene. The clash of steel against darkness rang through the chamber, and though Rylen was strong, the spectral warrior did not falter.

Cassian moved swiftly, daggers flashing as he engaged two more of the warriors. Elira chanted an incantation, her hands glowing with emerald light as she hurled a blast of magic toward the spectral figures. The energy struck one of them, but instead of destroying it, the warrior merely staggered back before reforming.

"They're not normal spirits!" Elira warned. "They're bound to this place. We have to break the connection!"

Selene barely dodged as another warrior swung at her. Her instincts took over, and she raised her hands, willing the power inside her to respond. The air shimmered around her, and a barrier of golden light flared to life just as the warrior's sword struck.

The impact sent sparks flying, and for a moment, the shadow hesitated.

Selene's heart pounded. The crown had chosen her, but that didn't mean she knew how to wield this power.

She turned her gaze to the inscriptions on the walls, searching for an answer. Then she saw it—one line, glowing brighter than the others:

"Only the sovereign's command may free the fallen."

Selene's breath caught. That was it. These warriors were not meant to be fought. They were meant to be released.

Steeling herself, she stepped forward. "Stop!"

Her voice rang through the chamber, carrying with it the weight of authority.

The warriors hesitated. Their silver eyes flickered. The air around them wavered, as if the very fabric of their existence had been shaken.

"You are bound to this place," Selene said, her voice steady. "But your time here is over. You have served your kingdom. Now, I release you."

The moment the words left her lips, the golden light from the crown flared. It expanded outward, touching each of the spectral warriors.

They stiffened. Their weapons trembled in their hands.

Then, one by one, they began to fade—melting into wisps of shadow before dissolving into the air.

The chamber trembled once more, but this time, it was not in warning. It was in acceptance.

The throne—though cracked—stilled. The oppressive weight in the air lifted. The test was over.

Selene exhaled shakily, her knees nearly buckling beneath her.

Cassian caught her arm. "You did it."

Elira let out a breath. "She didn't just win. She freed them."

Rylen sheathed his sword, his gaze lingering on the throne. "Then that means... she truly is their queen."

Selene swallowed hard. The weight of their words pressed down on her, heavier than any battle. She had passed the trial. She had been accepted. But what did it mean for her future?

She turned back to the inscriptions, her fingers grazing the ancient symbols.

And that was when she saw it—the final prophecy, carved into the stone.

Her blood ran cold.

"The sovereign shall rise... but so too shall the enemy long forgotten."

Before she could react, the torches in the chamber flickered violently. The warmth of magic twisted into something colder, darker.

Something woke up.

And Selene realized—this was only the beginning.