Chapter 19: Echoes of Ashvale

The journey to Ashvale wasn't easy.

Blackwood's sleek private car sliced through winding forest roads, the darkened scenery blurring by like ghosts in flight. Ariella sat in the backseat beside Damian, her fingers curled loosely around the hilt of the silver dagger Margot had given her before they left.

> "It's not for killing," Margot had warned, "it's for binding. If things go wrong in Ashvale, you'll need to make a choice. Blood or bond."

Ariella hadn't asked for more.

She could still feel the last vestiges of the Lightblood magic humming inside her chest like a second pulse, raw and unshaped. She hadn't used it again since the mirror broke. She wasn't even sure if she could.

Damian had been quiet for most of the drive. Not cold—just... thoughtful.

When he finally spoke, his voice was distant. "Ashvale was once sacred ground. Before the curse. Before my ancestors broke their vow."

Ariella turned toward him. "What happened there?"

He hesitated. Then: "My great-grandfather, Ezra Blackwood, fell in love with a woman from the Whitewood line. Forbidden love. But not like us—they didn't fight for it. He tried to possess her power. He performed a ritual during the blood moon… and it backfired. It awakened the curse that haunts my bloodline."

Ariella blinked. "He tried to steal her magic?"

Damian nodded slowly. "She died in the process. And the curse was born from that betrayal. From twisted love and broken oaths."

Ariella looked out the window, the sky dimming toward twilight. "So the curse… it was born from love corrupted."

He nodded again. "And that's why it feeds on emotion. Especially desire. That's why every generation, one Blackwood is chosen to bear the mark—and every time they fall in love, the curse tries to claim both souls."

A silence stretched between them, heavy and tense.

"And if we fall in love?" she asked softly.

He turned to her then, eyes unreadable. "We already have."

Her breath hitched.

But before she could answer, the car came to a stop.

Ashvale loomed ahead—ruins choked by ivy, broken columns rising from the earth like bones. A place abandoned by time. It didn't just look cursed.

It felt it.

They stepped out together, walking side by side through the crumbling path. The sky bled orange and violet, dusk folding like wings across the world.

At the heart of the ruins stood a broken altar—stone worn by time, yet pulsing faintly with magic. Ariella's skin prickled.

The moment she stepped onto the altar's platform, the wind shifted.

And a voice—not one she recognized, but one that felt… connected—echoed through the stones.

> "Whitewood's heir. Blackwood's shadow. The breach has begun."

Damian stepped beside her. "Who's there?"

From the broken archway ahead, a woman appeared. She wore robes that shimmered with starlight, her hair silver and floating as if underwater.

Ariella's heart stopped.

She knew her.

Not by memory. Not by logic.

But by blood.

> "Mother?" she whispered.

The woman smiled. "You carry more than you know, Ariella. I am only the echo. But you… you are the vessel. The curse ends with your choice."

Damian stepped forward. "What choice?"

The ghost-like woman's expression turned grave. "To save him… or to save yourself."

Ariella's breath caught.

Before either could ask more, the wind howled—thick with shadow.

The cursed entity had followed.

Its presence spilled through the ruins like ink in water, and the stones screamed with ancient magic.

Ariella reached for Damian's hand.

"No matter what happens," she said, "we don't let go."

He gripped her hand tighter.

The air split open with a shriek.

And the final act had begun.

--