PART 10
962 Words
The cliffs split with the roar of shadows. Black shapes poured from the stone itself, as though the Dominion’s wound had opened wider. Their bodies shifted like smoke yet struck with the weight of iron, their claws gleaming, their eyes dripping darkness. The air grew thick, heavy with their cries, a chorus of hunger and rage that rattled the girl’s bones.
The Dawn Guard moved like fire against the tide. Kaelen’s blade sang silver arcs, each strike cutting down another beast. Lysa’s arrows streaked with faint light, piercing eyes before the creatures could leap. Jarek crashed into the horde like a storm, his armor battered but unyielding, his great sword a wall of steel. Corin chanted low, his staff glowing as he wove wards of protection that shimmered faintly against the dark.
But the shadows were endless. For every one slain, two more crawled from the cracks. Already the warriors were pressed back, their breaths ragged, their movements slowing. Kaelen’s command cut through the chaos: “Sparkbearer—now!”
The girl froze. The light in her hands flickered wildly, her chest tightening with fear. She remembered the training, the steady hum, the song beneath her breath. But this was not the calm of the hollow; this was blood and death, the scream of steel and the stench of shadow. Her knees shook, her palms sweat, and for one terrible moment she felt nothing at all—empty, powerless.
A creature lunged at her, jaws gaping. She screamed and threw up her arms. Light burst forth in a blinding wave, searing the beast into ash. The spark surged higher, flooding her veins. She gasped as it consumed her fear, burning hotter, brighter. The monsters faltered, hissing at the glow that radiated from her.
“Again!” Kaelen shouted.
The girl closed her eyes, clutching at the spark not with force but with surrender. She let it move, let it rise. Light poured from her hands, not wild this time but shaped. It arced outward, forming a barrier that shielded the warriors. Shadows slammed against it and shrieked as their forms dissolved. For a breathless moment, the Dawn Guard fought under her protection, their blades striking with renewed strength.
Yet the spark did not come without a cost. Her chest tightened as though bound, her vision blurred. The barrier trembled, flickering as her strength faltered. The shadows sensed it, pressing harder, their claws scraping at the edges. She cried out, her body trembling, but refused to let go.
The hooded figure stepped forward at the edge of the fray. Its ember-eyes burned as it raised one hand, murmuring words that echoed like thunder. The ground shook, and fire erupted in lines that cut through the horde, buying the girl a moment’s breath. “Hold, child,” the voice rumbled in her mind. “Let the spark breathe through you, not against you.”
She gasped, fighting to steady herself. In her mind she pictured her village—her mother’s gentle hands, her grandmother’s eyes, the fields she once thought would be her world forever. She saw them swallowed in shadow, their voices crying for help. The thought steeled her. She drew a deeper breath, and instead of pushing, she opened.
The barrier brightened, solidifying into radiant walls. From her hands blazed streaks of light that took shape—spears of brilliance that pierced through the tide. One after another, shadows fell, their forms burning away until only silence remained.
When at last the last creature crumbled to ash, the valley was still. Smoke curled from the ground, and the air hummed with the fading echo of her power. The girl collapsed to her knees, her body wracked with exhaustion. But she was alive. They all were.
The Dawn Guard stared at her in stunned silence. Jarek lowered his blade, his face pale. “By the stars…” he muttered. “She… she broke them.”
Lysa exhaled shakily, her bow still clutched tight. “I’ve never seen light wielded like that. Not since the old days.”
Corin knelt beside the girl, his hands glowing as he channeled gentle warmth into her trembling body. “You walk a dangerous path, child,” he murmured, “but the light favors you.”
Kaelen stepped forward last, her expression unreadable. She knelt, tilting the girl’s chin up so their eyes met. “You are more than prophecy,” she said firmly. “You are hope. Remember that.”
The girl swallowed hard, tears stinging her eyes. She did not feel like hope. She felt hollow, spent, terrified of what burned through her. Yet as she met Kaelen’s gaze, she felt something steadier rise within—a determination she did not know she had.
Night fell heavy after the battle. The camp was quiet, the warriors tending wounds in silence. The girl sat apart, staring at her hands, still faintly glowing as though the spark lingered even in rest. The hooded figure approached, its presence like a shadow across the firelight.
“You have tasted battle,” its voice murmured in her mind. “You have seen what the spark can do. But know this—every use binds you tighter to the Dominion. The light is not a gift. It is a chain. One day you must choose whether to bear it… or break it.”
She shivered, unable to answer. The words hung heavy, darker than the night itself.
In the distance, unseen beyond the cliffs, another presence stirred. Eyes of shadow watched, patient and cold. The girl’s light has been noticed—and the Dominion is not the only realm that watches now.
- Writer
