Chapter 15: The Awakening

Aria ran.

Her feet barely touched the soaked earth as she sprinted through the rain-drenched forest, clutching the unconscious girl tightly to her chest. The storm raged around her, icy droplets stinging her skin, but she pushed forward, driven by the urgency thrumming in her veins.

Something was wrong.

She could feel it in the air, thick with sorrow, as if the very fabric of the world was mourning. The wind howled in a voice almost human, and the trees—tall and ancient—shifted, parting slightly as if guiding her way.

Aria's breath came in ragged gasps, her legs burning from the effort, but she didn't slow down.

She had to find a healer.

Lightning slashed the sky above, illuminating the path for just a moment before plunging the world back into darkness. The girl in her arms—so delicate, so eerily light—remained unconscious, her silver-white hair clinging to her pale skin.

Aria didn't know who she was. Didn't know why the shadows had warned her to stay away.

But she had made her choice.

She would save her.

Through the storm, a flickering light emerged in the distance—a small cottage nestled among the trees. Relief flooded Aria's chest as she recognized it.

Old Mother Sylva.

The best healer in these parts.

Aria reached the doorstep and banged her fist against the wooden door, her knuckles numb from the cold. "Mother Sylva!" she shouted, her voice barely audible over the storm. "Please! It's urgent!"

For a long moment, there was no response. Then, the door creaked open, revealing an elderly woman wrapped in thick robes, her sharp eyes narrowing at the sight before her.

"By the spirits, child, what have you brought me?" Sylva's voice was heavy with suspicion, but she stepped aside, allowing Aria inside.

The warmth of the cottage enveloped her instantly, the scent of burning herbs and dried flowers filling the air. Aria gently laid the girl down on a cot near the fire.

"She's dying," Aria said breathlessly. "Please help her."

Mother Sylva approached, her wrinkled hands hovering just above the girl's forehead. A frown settled on her face. "She's not ordinary."

"I know," Aria admitted. "But she needs help."

Sylva muttered something under her breath and pressed a hand against the girl's chest. A faint, pulsing light flickered beneath her palm, and the old woman's brows furrowed deeper.

"This is… strange."

Aria swallowed hard. "Can you save her?"

The healer didn't answer right away. Instead, she pulled out a vial of thick, golden liquid and uncorked it. She lifted the girl's head and carefully poured the potion between her pale lips.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, the girl's body jerked violently.

Aria gasped as the girl's fingers twitched, her chest rising in a sharp, ragged breath.

And then, her eyes snapped open.

Brilliant blue—like frozen fire.

A Name from the Past

Aria stared, heart hammering in her chest.

The girl—awake now—gazed at her surroundings with wild confusion before her glowing blue eyes landed on Aria.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Then, the girl parted her lips, her voice hoarse but firm.

"My name is Eldara."

Aria barely had time to process the name before Eldara shot up, gasping for breath as though she had been drowning moments ago.

"Easy," Aria urged, placing a firm but gentle hand on her shoulder. "You're safe."

Eldara flinched at the touch, her blue eyes flickering wildly around the room. The firelight cast sharp shadows on her pale face, making her look almost ethereal.

"Where—?" Her voice cracked, her throat dry.

"You're in the home of a healer," Aria explained, handing her a cup of water. "You were barely alive when I found you."

Eldara hesitated before accepting the drink, her delicate fingers trembling slightly. She sipped cautiously, then set the cup down, her gaze locked onto Aria.

"You…" Eldara murmured, as if tasting the word. "You saved me?"

Aria nodded. "I couldn't just leave you there."

Eldara's lips pressed together in a tight line. She looked like she wanted to say something but was holding back. Instead, she turned to Mother Sylva, who had been watching the exchange in silence.

"What are you?" the old woman finally asked.

Eldara's entire body stiffened. Aria saw it clearly—the flicker of fear that crossed her face before she forced it away.

"I don't know what you mean," Eldara replied, her voice carefully neutral.

Mother Sylva scoffed. "Don't play games with me, child. You're not human."

The silence that followed was thick and suffocating. Aria felt the tension in the air, felt the way Eldara's fingers clenched the fabric of the blanket draped over her.

Aria had known from the beginning that Eldara wasn't ordinary. The shadows had warned her. The way the forest itself had reacted when she carried her through the storm—trees shifting aside as if making way—had confirmed it.

But now, face to face with the truth, she realized something else.

Eldara was afraid.

And it wasn't just fear of being discovered.

It was fear of herself.

"I don't mean you harm," Aria said softly, trying to bridge the growing distance between them. "But if you're in danger, if there's something I should know—"

"There's nothing." Eldara cut her off quickly. Too quickly. "I just need to leave."

Mother Sylva frowned. "You're in no condition to—"

"I have to," Eldara insisted, trying to push herself up, only to sway unsteadily. Aria immediately reached out, catching her before she could collapse.

"You're not going anywhere," Aria said firmly. "Not until we figure out what's going on."

Eldara shook her head, something almost desperate flashing in her eyes. "You don't understand—"

A sound outside cut her off.

A low, whispering wind that wasn't natural.

Aria's breath caught in her throat as she turned toward the door. The storm had passed, but the wind outside still howled.

No.

Not wind.

Whispers.

A chorus of them, low and insidious, curling around the edges of the house like unseen fingers.

Eldara went rigid.

"They found me," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Aria's stomach twisted. "Who?"

Eldara swallowed hard. "The ones who've been hunting me."

Then, before Aria could react, the door burst open.

The Arrival of the Hunters

The fire flickered violently as the wind rushed into the small cottage, extinguishing every candle in the room. The warmth that had once embraced them vanished, replaced by a suffocating cold.

Aria barely had time to reach for the dagger at her belt before shadows slipped through the doorway—figures draped in dark cloaks, their faces obscured.

A deep, unnatural silence filled the room as they stepped inside.

Mother Sylva inhaled sharply, clutching the pendant around her neck. "Spirits protect us…" she murmured.

The lead figure tilted its head. Then, in a voice like ice scraping against stone, it spoke.

"She belongs to us."

Eldara trembled beside Aria, but her jaw clenched in defiance. "No."

The figures didn't move, but the room itself seemed to darken as their presence grew heavier. Aria felt it—an overwhelming force pressing against her chest, urging her to step aside.

She didn't.

Instead, she positioned herself between Eldara and the intruders, gripping her dagger tightly.

"She's not going anywhere," Aria said, voice steady.

A slow, eerie chuckle echoed from the figures. "You would fight for something you do not understand?"

Aria's pulse pounded in her ears. "I don't need to understand to know she doesn't want to go with you."

A moment of silence. Then, the lead figure raised a gloved hand.

Dark mist coiled around his fingers before surging toward them like a living thing.

Aria reacted instinctively. She grabbed Eldara's wrist and yanked her backward, narrowly dodging the attack as the mist struck the floor, burning through the wood like acid.

"We have to go," Aria hissed.

Eldara hesitated for only a second before nodding.

Mother Sylva, despite her age, moved swiftly to grab a bundle of dried herbs from the shelf. She muttered a string of words under her breath before tossing them into the fire.

The flames roared to life, turning an unnatural shade of blue. A wave of energy pulsed outward, slamming into the figures and forcing them back.

"GO!" Mother Sylva shouted.

Aria didn't need to be told twice. She grabbed Eldara's hand and bolted for the back door.

A Desperate Escape

The forest greeted them with a cold embrace. The moment they stepped outside, the whispers returned, slithering through the trees like invisible serpents.

Eldara's breathing was ragged, her grip on Aria's hand tight. "They won't stop," she said. "They'll keep coming."

Aria's mind raced. They needed a plan—somewhere to hide, a way to fight back. But right now, survival was the priority.

"There's a cave not far from here," she said. "We can—"

A sharp pain shot through her skull.

She stumbled, clutching her head as a vision slammed into her.

Flashes of a ruined temple.

A pool of black water.

A symbol burning against the stone—a mark she didn't recognize but somehow knew was important.

Then, a voice.

Not her own.

Not Eldara's.

Find the First Flame.

The vision shattered.

Aria gasped, blinking rapidly as the forest came back into focus. Eldara was staring at her, concern in her glowing blue eyes.

"What just happened?" she asked.

Aria shook her head. "I… I don't know. But I think I know where we need to go."

Eldara hesitated, then nodded. "Lead the way."

They took off into the night, the whispers trailing behind them like a promise of the darkness yet to come