50. Seren
SEREN
The thing that rises from the pool isn’t made of water. It’s sculpted from stone as black as a starless night, ancient silt clinging to its surface, glowing faintly with violet light.
Crescent sigils etched into the stone pulse with a heartbeat of its own as the structure ascends, silent and majestic, casting long shadows across the surface.
The rest of the world fades to a blur. Only my eyes remain in sharp focus as the well of gravity pulls me in.
I should step back—but an invisible current holds me in its embrace, demanding more than my attention.
Instead, I move forward, toes faltering on the edge as a cold, light pressure wraps around them; tiny icy fingers testing my balance, stroking my spine.
Something stirs in my stomach. Talons scrape the inside of my skull, clawing for release. Every breath feels borrowed; every heartbeat not mine.
The surface breaks wider, and the reflection that stares up is not just a face; it’s hers. Nyx. My mouth shapes her name—but the voice that answers is not mine.
The time comes, daughter. One soul must yield so the other may live.
My eyelids flutter as her words anchor.
“That’s not what you promised,” I whisper to the reflection. A ghost of a smile touches her lips—my lips—as grief swallows the cracks forming on my features.
Yara turns to me, her withered hand resting on my shoulder.
“I’m sorry dear,” she says, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.
“It seems like you are forever having to pay the price for our people.” She smiles, but her eyes don’t crinkle with the warmth that I’ve come to know.
Instead, a profound sorrow lies beneath the cloudy blue gaze that flickers from side to side.
“I was promised freedom…” I choke.
“And freedom you shall have, my child.” Her gaze drops to the floor, then glides to the shrine. “But not one that you can live with this soul.”
My hand closes over her shoulder, grip tightening as anger steadies me. “What do you mean?” I demand.
“My dear,” she says, reaching for my cheek again. I flinch, stepping away from the basin that calls to me. “Your mother sacrificed your soul, merging it with our Divine Mother’s, so that one day she could rise again and fulfil the prophecy.”
“Wh—why me?”
“Believe me, child. We tried many times to find a vessel worthy of containing her. But yours was the only one strong enough.”
The words hit me as I stagger back, my legs suddenly weak.
I drop to my knees, my chest caving until I’m bent over double.
Eira’s fur tickles my face as her whines pierce my skull.
The thread between us goes taut. Her soft voice fills my mind: You must do this—not only to free yourself, but to free him and me from this curse.
My brow hardens. He’s cursed too?
Kael is beside me, half-kneeling, the blue of his light bleeding into the violet of the staff. His eyes are wide with terror. “What’s wrong?” he demands.
I try to speak, but my throat tightens as the words die there. He grips my arm, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Seren, talk to me.”
“The freedom—” I begin. “—the freedom was a lie.” My vision blurs, tears stinging the back of my eyes, desperate to fall.
His brow creases, his silver eyes fading to a dull grey. “What do you mean?”
Every word weighs heavy as my decision hangs on the fate of others like a noose, tightening until the moment of release.
Kael turns to Yara, the glow in his eyes suddenly burning bright. “What does she mean? What’s happening?”
Yara’s gaze snaps to his, the clouds of white swirling like a silent storm. “Each shrine has exacted a price from Seren,” she states, her tone flat. “All sacrifices must be made by her own free will.”
“And what has she already given unknowingly?” Kael asks, his grip on my arm bruising.
“The first shrine; the Map of Scars, gave her the necessary knowledge to follow the prophecy.” Her head tilts, as her gaze wobbles.
“The second; the Shrine of Intrusions, infiltrated her mind through the viscous substance, planting seeds for our Divine Mother to assume more control.” Her eyes sweep my body clinically.
“The third; the Shrine of Bones, granted our Mother authority over her physical form.”
Kael’s head shakes in disbelief. “But she didn’t know!”
Yara stands staring at him, all warmth replaced by an icy chill. “And this one?” he says.
“This one requires her soul.”
He releases his grip, rising slowly to tower over Yara. “And what will happen to her if she gives it?”
“Nyx will have full control.”
“And, what…will happen…to her?” he says through gritted teeth.
“Her soul will wither into the darkest parts of her mind. She will be free of the shadows— because she will become one.”
His power flares bright under his palms, a muscle twitching in his jaw. “And you’ve kept this from her? Why?”
“I had to make her wait until she was ready.”
“Another lamb off to slaughter, then.”
She stares at Kael, unwavering under his mimicry.
My thoughts flicker back to Sylas and the weight of his sacrifice, as Nyx’s thoughts enter my own.
It’s been a century since the War of Sun and Shadow, and yet, we still suffer the aftermath like it was yesterday. If sacrificing your freedom will mean the end of suffering for our people. Then what is one life in the face of so many?
Without Sylas, what else do I have left to live for?
That’s it, my girl. Your choice will set me free, and I will use that freedom to save our people. Her voice slithers through my mind as my shadows trace idle lines over my shoulders.
What will happen to me? I say into the void.
Her breath blows against my neck. Your body will be mine, but your mind shall go into the space in which all shadows share.
And where is that?
The dream-world where we have spoken. A safe place for you to be until it is time for you to see the light again, she drawls.
And how long will that be?
As long as it takes for the prophecy to be fulfilled, my daughter.
Time stills. I rise, putting weight into the staff, forcing my legs to steady.
Without thinking, I put one step in front of the other, until I’m at Kael’s side. My hand pushes him away, forcing space between them.
“Let us begin.”