Chapter 12 Dario #2
But she didn’t. She never did.
The mage had barely taken three more steps before I lost myself.
The shadows obeyed no thought, no strategy—they were me and I was them, a storm of rage incarnate.
They boiled from the cracks in the earth, rose like serpents from the walls, poured from the empty sockets of shattered windows.
The air itself grew heavy and suffocating, thick with black mist that reeked of brimstone.
He dared. He dared touch Meryn.
He would pay for this. He would suffer.
My hands shook as power roared through me, more than I had wielded in years. Lanterns guttered out one by one, smothered in darkness, leaving only the sickly green glow of the mage’s spells as he flung them wildly in desperation.
But no spell could outpace the fury of a curse born from a goddess.
I saw him. Cornered now. Spells flaring and dying like sparks against the wall of darkness pressing in on him. His cloak whipped about him as though he stood in a gale, though no wind stirred but the one I made.
I would end him.
A bolt of green streaked toward me. I didn’t dodge. It fizzled against the torrent of shadows clinging to my skin, harmless as rain. I stalked closer, the ground quaking beneath each step.
Somewhere distantly, Elena’s voice called my name. I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t. The roar of blood in my ears drowned everything but the pounding fury that screamed for vengeance.
The mage raised his hands in a final, pathetic ward. Shadows ripped it apart. Tendrils lashed forward, coiling around his legs, his arms, his throat. He gasped, his mismatched eyes bulging, and I reveled in it—the sight of him bound, helpless, exactly as he had left her.
Meryn.
My chest heaved, grief sharpening into cruelty. I imagined tearing him apart, not swiftly but slowly, letting him feel what it was to suffer loss with every heartbeat.
I lifted my hand. The shadows rose to strike.
And then—warmth.
A glow pressed against my side, soft but unyielding, cutting through the storm.
“Dario.”
Her voice.
The single thread of sound pierced the chaos, wrapping around me, tugging. My shadows hesitated, their writhing slowed, uncertain.
I snarled, straining against it, desperate not to be stopped. I had every right. Meryn’s cry still echoed in my head, breaking me open in a way nothing else had for a century.
But the warmth grew. Golden, steady.
And then—hands. On me.
Small, delicate, but fierce in their grip, clutching my arm, my chest, anchoring me to the world I was about to burn. I looked down and found her. Elena.
Her hood had fallen back, her hair spilled golden even in the shadows, catching the faintest threads of moonlight. Her eyes blazed—not with fear, not with condemnation, but with determination. She pressed herself close, against me, into the storm, as though the shadows meant nothing to her.
“Enough,” she said firmly, her voice shaking only slightly. “You’ll lose yourself. And if you do—you’ll lose me too.”
The words hit like a blow.
Lose her?
The shadows faltered, wavering like flame in wind.
I stared at her, my breath ragged, my chest heaving. She stood there unflinching, her light seeping into me, brushing against the wild edges of my fury, soothing, tempering, as though she had done this a thousand times before.
“Elena—” My voice cracked, raw with grief and rage.
Her hand rose to my cheek, cupping it boldly, her thumb brushing against the edge of darkness curling there. Her touch seared me in a way no fire ever could. “Look at me, Dario. Not him. Not the shadows. Me.”
For the first time in a century, I obeyed.
The mage struggled in my grip, choking, shadows squeezing—but my gaze locked with hers, and the storm within me began to still.
Her golden eyes filled my world. They reflected no disgust, no hatred—only fierce, aching compassion, the kind I hadn’t seen since… since before the curse.
I wanted to weep. I wanted to crush her against me and never let go.
Instead, I let the shadows fall.
They recoiled slowly, slithering back into the cracks of the street, releasing the mage. He collapsed to the ground, gasping, his body trembling with exhaustion and terror.
My chest heaved, the silence afterward deafening. The street lay in ruin, cobblestones split, walls cracked, lanterns shattered. Villagers huddled in doorways, too afraid to speak, their eyes wide with horror.
And Elena still stood before me, her hands on my chest, her touch steady, her light holding me together when my rage would have torn me apart.
“Better,” she whispered softly, as though to a wounded beast. “You’re better than that.”
The words nearly undid me.
I bowed my head, forehead brushing hers for the briefest, unguarded moment. My voice came rough, broken. “He hurt her. He hurt the only one I had left.”
“I know.” Her breath fanned against my lips, her tone gentler than sunlight. “And we’ll make him pay. But not like this. Not by losing yourself.”
Her courage, her closeness—it burned and soothed all at once. I didn’t know how to hold both.
Slowly, she lowered her hands, though I felt the absence of her touch like a wound.
The mage moaned, crawling weakly to his knees. I wanted to strike again, to finish what I started. But Elena’s voice lingered in my head: You’ll lose me too.
And I couldn’t bear that.
I straightened, shadows curling obediently back into my frame. My fury did not abate, but it was caged now, chained by her light. I turned my gaze to the mage, and my lips curled into a promise sharp as steel.
“You live,” I said darkly, my voice carrying like thunder down the ruined street. “For now. But when I am finished with you, you will beg me for the mercy you showed my owl.”
Meryn stirred weakly from where she had fallen. Relief surged through me so violently I nearly staggered. She lived.
Elena caught the flicker in my gaze and offered the faintest smile. “She’s strong. Like her master.”
The words, meant lightly, gutted me. No one had called me strong in so long. Not without fear in their voice.
And for a moment, the rage receded completely, leaving only a hollow ache, filled slowly—terrifyingly—by the warmth of her presence.
The mage coughed, spitting blood onto the stones. His body trembled, but I saw the flicker of magic still writhing at his fingertips. Stubborn. Desperate.
“Elena,” I warned, stepping in front of her, but she shook her head and moved closer to my side.
“We face him together,” she said. Her voice was calm, but there was steel in it. I didn’t argue. I couldn’t.
The mage rose shakily, his mismatched eyes blazing. “You think you’ve won?” His voice rasped. “You know nothing .”
His words snapped through me like lightning. I had suspected, but to hear it aloud—confirmation.
Beside me, Elena stiffened. She had heard too.
But before either of us could press him further, his hands ignited with green fire. He hurled it straight at me—not at me, I realized too late. At Meryn.
I moved, shadows lashing up in a shield, but the spell tore through, searing against my shoulder. Pain ripped down my arm, but I didn’t care. My shadows surged outward in a wall, forcing the magic away from her limp body.
“You’ll not touch her again,” I roared, the sound shaking the stones beneath our feet.
The mage only sneered, gathering more power. His fury burned wild, reckless, his magic twisting beyond what any mortal should wield.
“Elena,” I ground out, eyes fixed on him, “if he keeps throwing that much power, he’ll burn himself alive.”
“Then we use that against him,” she murmured, golden light spilling from her palms.
She raised them against him, but the mage only laughed tauntingly. Before I could close the distance, before my shadows could seize him fully, he vanished—teleportation tearing him from our grasp in a sickening crack of energy.
Gone.
The silence after was suffocating. Smoke curled in the ruined street. My chest heaved, rage and frustration pounding against my ribs like fists.
“He got away,” I spat, my voice rough.
“Yes,” she whispered. Her gaze dropped to Meryn, then lifted back to me. “But if we chase him again now, in this state, we’ll lose more than just him.”
The truth of it landed heavy. I knelt, gathering Meryn gently. She was hurt, her small body still as death, and for a brief, terrible moment, my heart stopped.
Elena knelt beside me, her face pale with shock as she reached out, her hand resting gently on Meryn’s feathers. “Dario… is she…?”
I didn’t answer, the words choked in my throat as I focused all my energy on Meryn, pouring the shadows into her fragile body, willing her to stir, to fight, to survive.
I could feel the faint, flickering pulse of life within her, the soft beat of her heart, and I poured every ounce of strength I had into that tiny, precious spark, watching as her feathers slowly regained their brilliance, the sickly glow fading.
Meryn’s eyes fluttered open, her gaze dazed but alive, and I felt a surge of relief so powerful it nearly brought me to my knees. I cradled her gently, brushing a thumb over her feathers, murmuring soft words of reassurance, though I barely registered the sound of my own voice.
She hooted softly at me, her weight a comforting presence in my arms, a reminder of the bond that had kept me sane through every long, dark night.
Elena reached out and ran a gentle finger over Meryn’s back, and a gentle golden light suffused her feathers. A moment later, Meryn hooted more loudly, fluffing her feathers. She looked fully healed.
“Elena,” I whispered, unsure how to thank her. I took a deep, shuddering breath, my gaze shifting to Elena, who watched me with a faint, knowing look, her eyes filled with quiet understanding.
A long moment later, she stood, her cloak swirling around her, and extended a hand. Not commanding, not priestess to supplicant—but partner to partner.
“Come. We have the boy. The mage will return, sooner or later.”
I stared at her hand for a long moment before taking it, her fingers warm against mine, grounding me in ways I couldn’t explain.
“Elena,” I said, my voice low, controlled, as I turned to her.
“My magic has marked that godsdamned mage. Whenever he returns, wherever in your city he will go, I will know. You need to return to your city to find out what you can from the Temple. I’ll keep watch over the boy until we get the answers we need. ”
She nodded, her gaze steady.
With a final, resolute nod, I turned and began to walk away, Meryn perched on my shoulder, her presence a steadying force as I left the broken street behind, cursing the day I’d gotten myself involved in this tangled mess.
Elena’s mess, her city, her light.
And yet, no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was in this too deep, bound to her by shadows and light alike.
As I disappeared into the night, her presence lingered in my mind, a constant, quiet reminder of the path I could never truly walk away from.