The Celestial Saga: Realms

Chapter 4

Charmaine

“It won’t penetrate,” she said, breathing shallowly. Still, she forced the attempt, searching for any liquid in its system.

“I can’t sense any water,” Avalon coughed, her shoulders tightening as the smoke thickened around us. We regrouped instinctively, breathing harder now, our attacks having done nothing. The horse stood in the center of the field, unmoving. Watching, waiting, and testing. And then it took a step toward Avalon. The creature moved without warning. She barely had time to shift her stance. Instinct took over. Water surged upward around her, forming a dense barrier between them as she pivoted to redirect its momentum. It didn’t slow.

The horse crashed through the shield like it wasn’t there, the impact detonating the water outward in a violent spray. Avalon hit the ground hard, the air forced from her lungs. Before she could recover, the creature’s weight came down. A massive hoof pressed into her side, pinning her against the earth. Pain flared through her ribs as the ground compacted beneath her, her breath coming in sharp, shallow pulls.

“Avalon!” Serena shouted. Avalon tried to move. The pressure didn’t allow it. The horse lowered its head and exhaled. Dark smoke poured directly over her face, thick and heavy, flooding her lungs before she could turn away. The air vanished as she inhaled, her chest tightening as her body searched for oxygen that wasn’t there. Avalon twisted beneath the weight, forcing the creature’s hoof to shift just enough for her to roll free. She pushed herself up, staggering back as the smoke clung to her. Then the coughing started. Sharp, continuous, and uncontrolled. Each breath dragged more of the dark residue deeper into her lungs, her chest tightening as her vision blurred at the edges.

She waved Serena back weakly, still trying to pull air in. “I’m—” cough “—fine,” but she wasn’t. Serena saw it immediately. Heat surged violently around her hands, flames flaring bright and unstable as she stepped forward. The surrounding fire intensified, drawing oxygen from the surrounding air, compressing heat inward instead of outward. The temperature around the creature spiked as Serena forced the heat to collapse toward a single point. The air itself ignited around the horse’s body, a sudden burst of flame erupting outward in a violent sphere of heat. For a moment, the creature disappeared inside the fire, the grass around it blackened instantly. Then the flames collapsed. The horse stepped forward through the fading fire, unburned and untouched. Smoke rolled slowly from its nostrils again, thicker than before. Serena’s fire flickered as the oxygen around her thinned. Behind her, Avalon was still coughing, her breathing shallow, uneven, her strength visibly fading. Serena’s flames flickered weakly as the thinning air struggled to feed them. Behind her, Avalon’s coughing had begun to ease, but her breathing was still shallow. My eyes moved quickly between them. Suddenly I knew what to do.

“Serena,” I said sharply. “With me.” Serena didn’t question. She stepped beside me, heat already building again around her hands.

“What are we doing?” I pressed my palm to the ground. “Heat the earth,” I said. “All of it.” Understanding flashed across Serena’s face as she dropped both hands toward the soil. Fire didn’t rise upward this time, it sank. Flames poured downward, forcing intense heat into the ground as I pulled the earth’s structure tight around it, compressing layers of soil and stone together. The temperature spiked. The ground beneath the creature darkened, then cracked. Serena pushed harder. I tightened my control, holding the heat in place instead of letting it escape. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, the earth ruptured.

A violent surge of superheated soil and molten rock burst upward beneath the horse’s front legs, the sudden thermal shock destabilizing the hardened surface it relied on for traction. The ground liquefied just enough for the creature’s footing to slip. Its massive frame lurched, then it fell. The impact shook the field. Serena immediately drove more heat into the rupture, trying to harden the molten earth around its legs, while I forced the surrounding soil inward to trap it. For a moment, it worked. The creature struggled, its legs partially locked in rapidly cooling, hardened earth. I raised my hand. Lightning gathered again. But before I could release it, the ground exploded downward. The creature absorbed the surrounding energy and drove its weight through the weakened earth, shattering the hardened trap and launching itself forward in a single violent motion. It didn’t attack, it ran faster than before.

The black form streaked across the field, each stride covering an impossible distance as smoke trailed behind it like a shadow tearing loose from the world. Within seconds, it reached the tree line. Then the darkness swallowed it. Silence fell across the field. The smoke began to thin. Air returned slowly, painfully, filling lungs that had forgotten how to breathe. Avalon straightened, drawing in a deeper breath as the last of the dark haze cleared. Color returned gradually to her face, the tightness in her chest easing as oxygen finally reached her system.

“I’m okay,” she said, quieter this time. I didn’t respond. My eyes were fixed on the tree line where the creature had vanished. The field was finally quiet. I crouched near the torn ground, my fingers brushing lightly over the scorched soil where the creature had run. The earth still held the memory of its passage, deep compression, unnatural weight, the faint residue of energy that didn’t belong to any natural living thing.

“It’s getting faster,” Serena said behind me, but I didn’t answer.

At a short distance, they gathered closer around Sora — Roman, Cameron, Chloe, Sarah, Karsyn, Jonathan — their faces pale as reality settled in.

“That’s… not possible,” Sarah whispered. Roman swallowed hard.

“They’re not just… people.” Cameron didn’t say anything. He was watching me in the distance. Something about the way I moved calm, grounded, and completely aware made his chest tighten. Sora lowered the camera.

“We should go,” he said quietly. No one argued. They turned slowly, careful, deliberate, trying not to make a sound as they began backing away through the brush. That’s when Roman’s foot caught the edge of a loose stone. It rolled. The sound was small. Barely more than a shift but, through the earth, it rang. My feet froze against the ground. Seven separate pressure points. Uneven weight distribution. Elevated heart rates. My head lifted slowly toward the tree line.

“Come out,” she said. My voice wasn’t loud. It didn’t need to be. The group stepped into the open one by one. They just stared. Fear was written across every face. They had seen too much. Serena moved slightly closer to me, guarded and alert. Avalon’s breathing was steady now, but her posture had hardened. For a moment, the silence stretched. Then I stepped forward. My expression wasn’t angry, it was calm and gentle.

“Clear your minds,” I said softly. The group didn’t move. They couldn’t move. My voice lowered further.

“You were never here.” The ground beneath their feet pulsed — not violently, but in a slow, steady rhythm. A low-frequency resonance moved upward through their bodies, subtle enough that none of them understood what was happening. My voice continued, quiet and even.

“Relax,” I said as their breathing slowed and eyes softened. The tension left their shoulders. The memory began to blur. Not erased by force, only loosened and disconnected. The images they had just seen slipped away like a dream fading after waking. I took one more step forward.

“There was nothing here,” I said. One by one, their expressions emptied. Confusion replaced fear. Sora lowered the camera without realizing he was holding it. Roman glanced around the field.

“…Why did we come out here?” he asked quietly. No one answered. They turned and walked away. I watched until they disappeared beyond the tree line.

Serena exhaled slowly. “That was too close.”

Avalon nodded once. “We need to be more careful.” My gaze returned to the field, my attention already shifting back to the creature, to the tracks, to the lingering energy beneath the soil. We never looked toward the camera still hanging from Sora’s shoulder. We didn’t think about asking what it had captured. And none of us realized, the memory was gone, but the footage was not.