Blood and Ashes

~Elara's Pov~

The past doesn't stay buried. It whispers in the corners of your mind, bleeds through the edges of dreams, and sometimes, it slams into you with a force that leaves you gasping for air. Tonight, it came crashing down like a storm I wasn't ready for.

I sat alone in the coven's chamber, the ancient runes on the walls glowing faintly in the firelight, Nyssa's voice threading through the silence like a fragile thread of warning. She had been quiet all evening, more than usual, like the memories she carried were too heavy even to whisper. When she finally spoke, it wasn't as a teacher or a guide but as a keeper of truths I'd never asked for and yet desperately needed.

"Your mother," Nyssa began, her eyes distant and dark as the void itself, "was not just a witch. She was a sentinel, a guardian bound by blood and sacrifice. Seraphine was chosen to hold the Void Witch at bay, to seal her away so that the darkness could not consume our world again."

I swallowed hard, trying to hold onto the words even as the room seemed to tilt around me. I had known Seraphine was powerful and had sensed the weight of her legacy in the way the witches revered her name, but this… this was something else entirely. A curse layered upon a curse, a battle fought in shadows that stretched beyond my lifetime.

Nyssa's voice softened. "The Void Witch, Sariah, was not a simple enemy. She was once a witch like us, but her hunger for power shattered the balance. She tore through the coven's heart, leaving ashes and broken spirits. The only way to stop her was to bind her soul within a bloodline one that would carry the seal through generations."

I clenched my fists, feeling the ghost of my mother's pain echo through my veins. "And that bloodline… is me."

Nyssa nodded slowly. "Yes. You carry the seal, the prison, and the key. But the magic is volatile, dangerous. Your awakening has stirred the ancient power, and with it, the shadows that wait to reclaim what was lost."

My mind raced back to the visions, the flames that nearly consumed me, the runes that burned beneath my skin and the voices that whispered promises and threats in the dark. I had thought the power was a gift, but it was also a curse, a legacy written in blood and fire, demanding a price I wasn't sure I could pay.

"Your mother's last days were marked by desperation," Nyssa continued, her voice breaking slightly. "She fought to protect you, to keep the Void sealed within her blood. But the Tribunal and the wolves saw her power as a threat. They hunted her, betrayed her, until she was forced to make a choice that shattered everything."

I closed my eyes, picturing the woman I barely knew but somehow understood a warrior, a mother, a prisoner of fate. "What choice?"

Nyssa hesitated, then whispered, "She sacrificed herself to bind the Void deeper, to push it beneath the surface, but it was not enough. The seal weakened over time, waiting for the blood to rise again."

A heavy silence settled between us, thick with the weight of unspoken truths. I realized then that I was not just fighting for myself; I was fighting for a legacy written in fire and sacrifice, for a mother who had given everything to keep the darkness at bay.

The room grew colder, shadows lengthening as if the past itself was reaching out to claim me. I opened my eyes, feeling the power inside me pulse with renewed intensity. The seal was awakening, but so was the darkness it tried to contain.

Nyssa's hand rested gently on my shoulder. "You are not alone, Elara. But the path ahead will be perilous. The Void Witch will not rest until she is free, and those who fear the darkness will hunt you relentlessly."

I nodded, steeling myself against the storm that was coming. The legacy of blood and ashes was mine to bear and I would carry it, no matter the cost.

The chamber felt colder as Nyssa spoke, as if the very walls mourned the weight of the past. I wanted to ask so many questions, but my throat felt clogged with the dust of old graves. Instead, I let the silence carry the truth as it spilled out like cracked blood.

"Seraphine wasn't just the sealkeeper," Nyssa said, voice dropping lower, "she was the last hope of a fractured world. The magic she bore was tied to the moon's bloodline and the wolf's curse, ancient forces that both protect and destroy."

I felt a shiver not from cold, but from the sheer gravity of it. The witches, the wolves and the Tribunal, they were all pawns in a war older than memory. My birth was no accident. My existence was a battlefield.

Nyssa's eyes darkened with sorrow. "The Tribunal wanted control. The wolves wanted power. Your mother wanted peace. She defied them all. She fought alone."

"What happened to her?" I whispered, clutching the edge of the altar stone. My skin prickled as if the ghosts of her fight brushed against me.

Nyssa hesitated, then told me a story that cut deeper than any blade.

Seraphine had been betrayed by those closest to her, friends who feared her power and allies who coveted the strength she wielded. The Tribunal condemned her as a heretic, a danger to the fragile peace. They sent hunters to end her, and the wolves called her a witch abomination.

Cornered, she turned to the forbidden magics, the blood rites and sacrifices long outlawed by the coven. In a desperate ritual, she tore her soul between worlds, binding Sariah's essence deep inside her own bloodline. It was a sealing meant to last forever.

But the ritual fractured her spirit. The cost was unimaginable—her life, her sanity, and the safety of her child.

Nyssa's voice cracked. "Your mother's final moments were a battlefield of spirit and blood. The seal held, but it was unstable. It would never hold forever."

I pictured her there, fighting invisible demons, holding me in one arm and darkness in the other. The sacrifices made so I could live, so I could be more than a vessel. I felt tears burn behind my eyes, not just for the mother I never knew, but for the war she waged in silence.

Nyssa's hand gripped mine. "That's why you have to learn control, Elara. Because the longer the seal weakens, the closer Sariah comes to breaking free, and the world falls into shadow."

I wanted to scream, to run, to deny it all. But deep in my bones, I knew the truth. The darkness was not just a curse; it was a legacy. And I was the last guardian standing between chaos and order.

The fire in the hearth flickered, shadows dancing as if alive. I felt the power surge again, a reminder that the battle was just beginning. And this time, it was personal.