CHAPTER SEVEN — THE PATH OF THE TURNING
828 Words
The light swallowed them whole.
Unlike the memories — which shimmered, faded, or flickered like candle flames — this light was solid. Heavy. It pressed against Jack’s skin as though it were a physical thing, warping the air around him. Eliza’s hand tightened in his, grounding him.
Then the world shifted.
The pressure vanished, and Jack staggered forward — boots hitting soft earth.
He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust.
They were standing on a long, narrow path stretching through a vast expanse of fog. The ground beneath them was brown heather, familiar in texture but unnervingly cold. On either side of the path, the fog swirled like thick smoke, occasionally revealing glimpses of dark shapes that vanished before Jack could make them out.
Eliza exhaled shakily beside him.
“This isn’t a memory,” she whispered.
“It feels… new.”
Jack nodded. “This is the Turning.”
A low rumble travelled along the path, as though the earth were acknowledging them.
They began walking, the path stretching endlessly forward. The silence pressed against them — not peaceful, but expectant, like the whole place was waiting for something.
After several long minutes, Eliza spoke softly.
“You saw your dad… in the memory.”
Jack swallowed. “And you saw your mum.”
She nodded. “It was her voice. I recognised it instantly.” She hesitated. “She was crying, Jack. She didn’t want to go into the hollow.”
Jack took her hand again, his chest tightening. “My dad didn’t look scared. Just… determined. Like he’d already made peace with the sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” Eliza murmured. “But what did they sacrifice?”
Before Jack could answer, the ground trembled.
A new shape emerged ahead — an arch of twisted branches, almost identical to the ash tree’s split hollow but distorted. Its opening glowed with faint white light.
As they approached it, the fog behind them began to curl inward, herding them forward.
Eliza stepped closer to Jack. “We’re meant to go through.”
“I know,” he said. “But carefully.”
They passed beneath the arch.
Immediately, the world shifted again.
Heathsteady appeared before them — but broken.
The cottages were cracked, roofs caved in. The well lay dark and dry. The square was split by deep fissures. The woods loomed closer, branches extending far into the village like reaching hands.
The sky was wrong too — sickly green, swirling with unnatural clouds.
Eliza inhaled sharply. “Is this… the future?”
Jack shook his head. “I don’t know.”
A whisper drifted through the ruined streets.
“If the vow fails… so does the village.”
Jack spun around, searching for the source.
The creature from the cavern stepped out of the shadows, taller here, its limbs sharper, its mask cracked down the centre.
Eliza stepped forward. “You said the Turning begins with us.”
“It does,” the creature replied. “The vow made by those before you was incomplete. Their bond was strong… but not whole.”
Jack frowned. “What does that mean?”
The creature’s eyes glowed faintly.
“Their bond was forced by duty. Yours must be chosen.”
Eliza’s breath hitched. A flush crept up her neck.
Jack felt heat surge through him too — not fear, but something far more terrifying. Something he’d always felt around her but never spoken aloud.
“Why does it matter?” Jack asked quietly.
The creature tilted its wooden head.
“Because the Turning is not a ritual. It is a joining. Only two hearts bound willingly can restore the balance.”
Eliza stepped closer to Jack, voice trembling but steady.
“If we fail… Heathsteady becomes this?”
“Worse,” the creature said.
“This is only the first unraveling.”
The ground beneath the broken village cracked wider, smoke hissing out.
Jack’s pulse quickened. “What do we have to do?”
The creature pointed one long limb toward the centre of the ruined square.
“Begin where the first vow ended.”
They followed its gesture.
In the square, the shattered stones trembled and pulled apart, revealing a deep hole — a tunnel spiralling downward, carved by roots and glowing faintly.
Eliza gripped Jack’s arm. “We’re meant to go down.”
He met her eyes. “Together.”
She nodded, breathing deep, her fingers slipping into his.
“Jack… whatever this is asking of us… I’m not leaving your side.”
His chest ached — painfully, beautifully. “You won’t have to.”
The creature stepped back into the shadows.
“Descend. Face what they feared. Complete what they began.”
The ground trembled again — the tunnel widening as though inviting them.
Jack squeezed Eliza’s hand.
“We can do this.”
Her voice was barely above a whisper.
“Only because it’s you.”
And together, hand in hand, they stepped into the darkness.
- Writer
