Chapter 9 — The Hollow Light
1124 Words
Aria woke to darkness.
Not the soft, familiar darkness of her room, nor the shimmering void of the lunar plane. This darkness felt heavy, thick, as though it had weight. It pressed against her skin, muffled her breath, and swallowed every sound. She lay still, unsure if she was lying on stone, air, or nothing at all.
Her heartbeat echoed faintly in her ears.
She tried to move.
Her body didn’t respond.
A cold pulse throbbed beneath her ribs—slow, rhythmic, familiar. The lunar magic. But it felt different now. Hollow. Unsteady. Like a lantern flickering in a storm.
She inhaled sharply.
The darkness shifted.
A faint silver glow appeared above her, swirling like mist. It drifted downward, curling around her body. The markings on her hands responded instantly, flaring with a soft, trembling light.
Aria forced her fingers to move.
They twitched.
The silver mist tightened around her, as if encouraging her to rise. She pushed herself upward, her limbs heavy, her breath uneven. The darkness peeled away, revealing a vast expanse of moonstone beneath her—cracked, fractured, unstable.
She was still in the lunar plane.
But it was different.
The platforms that once floated in orderly patterns now drifted aimlessly, colliding and splitting apart. Runes flickered weakly, their light dim and erratic. The fracture above her pulsed violently, sending waves of silver energy across the void.
Aria staggered to her feet.
Her legs trembled.
Her vision blurred.
She pressed a hand against her chest, feeling the cold pulse beneath her ribs. It surged sharply, then faded again, like a heartbeat struggling to find its rhythm.
“Aria.”
The voice echoed faintly through the void.
Aria turned.
The High Seer stood on a nearby platform, her form flickering slightly—an anchor struggling to hold its shape in a collapsing realm. Her staff glowed weakly, its light barely cutting through the darkness.
Aria tried to speak, but her voice came out as a whisper. “What… happened?”
The Seer stepped forward, her expression grave. “Your surge shattered the stabilization ritual. The lunar plane reacted. Violently.”
Aria swallowed hard. “I didn’t mean to—”
“I know,” the Seer said. “But intention does not matter here. The lunar plane responds to power, not will.”
Aria looked up at the fracture.
It pulsed again, brighter this time.
The cold sensation beneath her skin surged sharply, forcing her to gasp. She staggered, clutching her chest.
The Seer raised her staff. “Aria, listen to me. Your internal barrier is gone. The lunar magic is rising without restraint.”
Aria felt her breath tremble. “I can’t control it.”
“You must,” the Seer said. “If you do not, the lunar plane will collapse.”
Aria looked around.
The platforms were breaking apart.
The runes were fading.
The void itself felt unstable, trembling beneath her feet.
“What do I do?” Aria whispered.
The Seer stepped closer. “You must rebuild the barrier.”
Aria shook her head. “I don’t know how.”
“You do,” the Seer said. “It is instinct. It is part of the heir’s bond.”
Aria swallowed hard. “I can’t feel it.”
The Seer’s voice softened. “Because you are afraid.”
Aria closed her eyes.
The cold sensation beneath her skin surged again, overwhelming her senses. She felt herself slipping, drifting toward the fracture’s pull.
The Seer snapped sharply. “Aria!”
Aria forced her eyes open.
The Seer pointed her staff at Aria’s chest. “Focus on the pulse. Not the cold. The pulse.”
Aria inhaled shakily.
She focused.
The cold sensation throbbed beneath her ribs—slow, rhythmic, steady. She followed it, tracing its path through her veins, feeling it rise and fall like a tide.
The Seer’s voice echoed softly. “Good. Now shape it.”
Aria frowned. “Shape it?”
“Yes,” the Seer said. “Shape it into a barrier. Not a wall. Not a veil. Something new. Something stronger.”
Aria closed her eyes.
She pictured the pulse—silver, steady, ancient.
She shaped it.
Slowly.
Carefully.
The pulse responded, rising sharply, then settling again. The markings on her hands flared, glowing brighter. The cold sensation beneath her skin steadied, becoming less chaotic, less overwhelming.
Aria exhaled shakily.
The Seer nodded. “Good. Now strengthen it.”
Aria focused.
She thickened the pulse, reinforcing it, making it solid. The cold sensation pressed against it, testing it. She held her breath, focusing.
The pulse held.
Barely.
The fracture pulsed again.
A wave of silver energy shot downward, striking the platform beneath her. Aria staggered, gasping. The pulse trembled violently.
The Seer shouted, “Hold it!”
Aria grit her teeth.
She strengthened the pulse again, reinforcing it, making it stronger. The cold sensation pressed harder, then slowly settled.
The pulse steadied.
The markings dimmed.
Aria exhaled shakily.
The Seer lowered her staff. “You did it.”
Aria looked up at her. “It doesn’t feel stable.”
“It isn’t,” the Seer said. “But it is enough for now.”
Aria swallowed hard. “What happens next?”
The Seer hesitated. “We must leave the lunar plane.”
Aria nodded.
The Seer raised her staff.
The runes beneath Aria’s feet brightened.
The void trembled.
The fracture pulsed violently.
A wave of silver energy shot downward, striking the platform. Aria cried out as the pulse beneath her ribs surged sharply, overwhelming her senses.
The Seer shouted, “Aria, suppress it!”
Aria tried.
The pulse trembled.
The cold sensation surged.
The lunar plane cracked.
Aria screamed.
The void shattered around her.
She fell—
—through darkness—
—through light—
—through nothing—
—and then she hit the ground.
Hard.
Her vision blurred.
Her breath trembled.
She heard voices—distant, muffled, frantic.
“Aria!”
Lysander.
She felt hands on her shoulders, pulling her upright. She gasped, her lungs burning, her body trembling violently.
The High Seer knelt beside her, her expression tight with fear. “Aria, stay with us.”
Aria tried to speak.
Her voice broke.
The cold sensation beneath her skin surged sharply, overwhelming her senses. She cried out, clutching her chest.
Lysander held her tightly. “Aria, breathe!”
She couldn’t.
The cold was too strong.
The pulse was too weak.
Her vision blurred.
The world dimmed.
The Seer raised her staff. “We need to anchor her!”
Aria felt the pulse beneath her ribs flicker.
Once.
Twice.
Then it stopped.
Her breath caught.
Her vision darkened.
She heard Lysander shout her name—
—and then everything went silent.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD