38. When Light Fades
When Light Fades
A distant shout claws at my senses, dragging me back to the brutal, suffocating reality around me.
My body trembles under the weight of blood loss, and my mind teeters between panic and disorientation.
The wound on my thigh throbs mercilessly, a searing reminder of the dagger’s cruel gift.
Blood pools beneath me, mixing with the cold sweat, as black spots pepper the edges of my sight.
I force my gaze downward, sickened by the deep gash that refuses to close, an open wound that might as well be an open door to death. When I try to lift my head, the world rocks, a cruel mockery of the hope I once held.
Shapes coalesce in front of me. Callan is there, kneeling at my side, his face etched with a rare and terrifying panic.
Finn’s voice cuts through the fog that clouds my thoughts, deliberate and sharp, each word weighted with urgency. “A man named Indech followed us in. The defensive barrier at the entrance failed to hold.” The fury in his voice is palpable, a seething anger that intensifies as he continues.
“The weapon responsible for that—he called it a Void Dagger. He said it severs magic,” Finn continues, his voice tightening as though the words themselves burn.
“Callan, his intent was never to end her life but to claim her. Take her from here now. I believe he’s alive. .. and he willnae be far behind.”
Callan falters, his face a conflicted mask of understanding and hesitation as he weighs Finn’s warning. “Finn... please tell me ye aren’t goin’ through with this.”
“We both understood the cost, Cal.”
A metallic groan roars to life from somewhere I can’t see, followed by a violent shuddering. The sound reverberates through the air, sharp and sudden, but I can’t place its source.
Callan curses under his breath before tearing his shirt off.
His calloused hands work with raw desperation, turning the fabric into a makeshift bandage.
He presses it against my wound, and I bite back a cry as fire shoots through my leg.
His lips move, urgency dripping from every word, but I can’t make sense of them.
They’re muffled, garbled—like hearing through water.
“Triona…” Callan’s voice finally breaks through, hoarse and desperate.
“Cal…” My voice is a ghost, trembling and faint. “It was so much… it was so wrong. All of it…”
My mind claws for coherence, but panic surges in my chest, drowning out reason. “Finn—” I try to finish, but my words crumble as I look around frantically.
Where is he?
The absence of him at my side is deeply troubling. I can hear his voice cutting through the chaos like a lifeline, but it’s not enough. I push weakly against Callan’s hands, my limbs shaking with the effort to move, to stand, to find him.
“Where is he?” I croak, the words a desperate plea .
“Stop, Tri!” Callan snaps, gripping my shoulders to still me. “Ye’re losin’ blood—ye cannae move!” But his words barely register. I claw at the dirt, searching wildly, my eyes darting through the haze.
Then—there, I see him. Finn. On the wrong side of the gate.
“Finn.” The whisper escapes my lips, the world narrowing to the scene before me.
Something primal rips from my throat, a sound born of sheer terror and disbelief. My limbs move of their own accord, feebly pushing Callan away with the desperation of a dying woman. I collapse forward, barely catching myself before my face hits the ground.
My arms shake with the effort to push myself up and drag myself toward the gate. My leg screams in protest. The pain is unbearable, a fire that swallows everything, but it doesn’t matter. Not now. My breath comes in frantic, shallow bursts as I claw at the dirt beneath me, inching closer to him.
“Tri, stop.” Callan’s command pierces the air, but it’s distant, far away, a flicker of sound muted by the abyss that’s swallowing me whole.
I reach the gate, my fingers trembling as I curl around the cold metal and pull myself up. I press against it, my chest heaving as my vision sways. I claw at the bars, helplessly trying to find any weakness, any way through—but the gate stands solid, unyielding.
“No,” I whisper, the word barely audible, my breath rattling in my chest. “No, no, this can’t be...”
Behind me, Callan attempts to remove me, but I muster as much effort as I can to elbow him in the sternum, which seems to halt his efforts. “Ye stubborn wee brat.” He rasps out past his pain as his voice cracks with something close to panic.
I don’t care. Nothing matters anymore but getting to Finn.
“Finn…” The whisper escapes me like a prayer, a final breath of hope.
He looks up, and I see it. His face is streaked with blood and dirt. His knuckles are raw and bleeding. But it’s his eyes that stop my heart—they’re empty , hollow with something I can’t name.
“ Mo chridhe ,” His voice is softer than the world I’m trapped in. “You have to listen to me.”
I can’t breathe. His words echo, a faint echo of something worse than death.
“What happened?” I moan, the question a plea, a sob in disguise. My chest cracks open with the weight of it. “Finn, why ...”
Finn’s hands grip the wrought iron bars of the gate, his knuckles white from the strain .
“Doe, you have to leave,” he pleads, his voice trembling despite his effort to remain steady. “You have to leave with Callan… stop fighting him. Stop fighting this .”
But I can’t stop.
I lean against the cold, unforgiving metal of the gate, gasping for air, chest heaving with the effort to stay upright.
“No,” I whisper, my voice trembling with desperation. “No, this can’t…”
Behind me, Callan’s presence looms over me. “Tri, stop bein’ so bloody stubborn,” he roars, his voice cracking with uncharacteristic emotion.
But I don’t care. I don’t care about the pain, or the blood, or that my body is failing me.
Because Finn is on the other side. And I’ll tear the world apart if I have to… to bring him back to me.
I turn to look back at Callan, my body shaking under the weight of pain and fear.
His usual confidence is gone. A body laden with trepidation betrays the man who’s always been unshakable in the face of danger.
It sends a chill down my spine. I know the next few minutes will require his cooperation. I can’t do this alone.
Right now, I’ve never felt more useless.
All the years I’d spent training, the sweat, the bruises, the countless hours honing my strength—every bit is utterly pointless when it matters most. My body refuses to cooperate, my strength sapped by blood loss and the overwhelming tide of emotions crashing over me.
Callan’s eyes flit past me, lingering over my shoulder. His hesitation ignites a fury in me, hot and searing. How dare he waste precious seconds when Finn is trapped, when everything is falling apart?
“Callan, help me!” I wail, the desperation in my voice sharp enough to cut through the air. “Finn is stuck—”
“Tri, stop it now!”
The command slams into me like a blow. At Finn’s shout, I whip my head back around. The look in his eyes stills the breath in my lungs. There’s something there—a faint, haunting shimmer of silver pooling in the corners of his gaze, a warning of something I don’t want to name.
“This was the only way,” he says, his voice low and resolute .
My mind rebels against his words, my head shaking vehemently in denial. I grip the cold iron bars tighter, using the last threads of strength in my failing body to fight against the reality they’re trying to sell me.
“No,” I choke out, the word thick with determination and panic. “We’ll find a way—like we always do.”
He presses himself closer to the bars, his expression softening despite the storm raging in his eyes. “Tri…”
“Stop,” I whisper, tears blurring my vision as my voice cracks. “Don’t... Don’t you dare .”
Finn doesn’t respond, not with words. Instead, he reaches his hand through the bars, palm outstretched toward me. “Come here.”
I hesitate, the raw vulnerability in his voice slicing through me, but I refuse to move. My pride, my fear, my refusal to believe this moment could end in anything but both of us walking away together, keeps me rooted. I shake my head stubbornly.
But Finn doesn’t let me refuse.
He grabs my hand and intertwines his fingers with mine. His touch sends a jolt through me, a familiar warmth that’s both comforting and devastating.
“I will not hear another word until you are on this side with me, and we are well away from this hellhole.” I try to rip my hand from his, but there’s no force behind it. I have nothing left to give. My body is spent, my strength drained to nothing but the quivering embers of willpower.
Callan’s approach is cautious, slow, as if I were a wounded animal liable to lash out at any moment. I look to find his expression taut with something too close to pity.
My heart hammers as I glare at him, my fury igniting anew. “Do not look at me like that,” I spit through gritted teeth. “We’re getting him out of there, Callan. Help me, damn you!”
But when he speaks, his tone isn’t the booming, commanding one I expect. It’s quiet. Controlled.
“Triona,” he says, his voice pleading. “Please, listen to him.”
A bitter scoff escapes my lips, sharp and jagged, and I hiss when his hand comes to rest lightly on my back.
“Don’t touch me,” I snap, my words venomous and unfiltered .
For a moment, Callan’s jaw tightens, but then, with a heavy exhale, he steps back. His shoulders slump, the fight draining from him as he meets my glare one last time before looking away.
I turn back to Finn, my breaths coming in ragged gasps. “This isn’t over,” I whisper, clinging to the bars as if sheer force of will could tear them apart. “I swear to you, Finn, this isn’t over.”
“This was the only way,” Finn repeats, slower this time.
My gaze darts between him and Callan. “When did you decide to do something so foolish?”