51. Kael
KAEL
The moment she speaks, the water answers.
Violet light flares from the sigil scarred into the ceiling, raining down onto the shrine.
The cavern folds inward; light fractures, sound bends.
Before I can speak, the shadows scoop her up, their tendrils wrapping around her.
They whisk her to the shrine’s edge, placing her within the strobe of incandescent light.
The shadows release in a wisp of smoke as her arms flail outward—a cross dangling within the strobe. Yara drinks from the chalice, eyes turning black the moment the substance touches her lips. She raises the blue flame. Her voice booms unnaturally, sending rocks tumbling beneath my feet.
“Flesh is fluid, form is free,
What Mother wills, let it be.
Old self fades, new self wake,
This new chapter her spirit must take!”
The strobe ignites, until Seren’s form vanishes. A piercing scream fills the cavern, one word extending into the void.
“Kael!”
Then, silence.
The sound of my name reverberating on the walls sends my legs scrambling for the basin’s edge.
I hesitate, the memory of the water burning my skin making me wince.
There’s no time to think, only act. I dip a boot into the inky surface and that familiar pain slices up my leg, a phantom boil piercing my core.
I snatch it back, sinking to the floor. My breaths come in ragged gasps as I pull at my clothes, but there is nothing there—only the lingering sting. I reach for the thread between us, hoping to feel Seren on the other end.
There’s nothing but a silky caress, a finger pulling at a broken string.
The light fades, blanketing the cavern in darkness except for Yara’s blue flame. She mutters lilting syllables I can’t discern over the ringing in my ears. I force my gaze toward the center of the dais.
Seren is kneeling there, head bowed, the staff burning a low violet. The shadows gently lift her, carrying her limp body across the mirrored surface. Yara stands beside me, her lips moving in silent prayer. She looks at me with a terrible, peaceful smile.
“It is done,” she whispers. “Our mother walks again.”
“Seren?” My voice cracks as her body lands at the basin’s edge.
She raises her head. The eyes that meet mine aren’t hers. They glow the colour of an eclipse; black ringed in a circle of violet.
“Child of Light,” she says, two voices layered into one. “You followed her into the dark. Will you follow me further as we ascend into the Light?”
Yara’s acolytes gather, dropping to their knees in unison, heads bowing low to the floor.
“The prophecy begins anew. The Hollow will rise again.”
“You damned her to this,” I snarl.
“She made her choice, Lightborne. Now you must make yours.”
The ground trembles. Stones pour from the ceiling, and somewhere above, bells ring in alarm or judgement. Scuffles sound behind me, but I can only focus on her.
Seren stands. Gold strands tainting her black hair; softened features war with the sharpness carved by years of suffering.
“She’s still in there,” I say.
“Perhaps.” A smile. “Perhaps she’s even watching us now.”