ECLIPSE AND ETERNITY: THE HUNT STARTS

Siena's POV The moon hung low in the sky, swollen and red like an open wound. Its crimson light bled over the ruins of Valenor, an ancient kingdom long swallowed by war, time, and silence. Broken towers clawed toward the heavens like the fingers of the dead, their stone bones cracked and blackened by forgotten fires. The wind whispered through hollow halls and shattered windows, carrying ash like snow across the empty land. Nothing lived here. No birds. No beasts. Not even hope. Only memories. And I remembered all of them. I stood at the edge of the ruined cathedral, my crimson hair dancing in the cold night wind like strands of living flame. My dark red dress, torn at the hem from years of wandering, moved softly around my boots as I stared at a space where the ancient altar used to stand. I stood there before. Not once, but probably a thousand times. After the first thousand years of living, it felt like time had stopped to mean anything. My footsteps echoed softly as I walked toward the space where the altar used to be seen. Each sound swallowed by the heavy silence. The cathedral had once been beautiful. I remembered that. White marble floors. Golden chandeliers. Choirs singing prayers to gods who had long since abandoned the world. Now only ruins remain. I stopped. The stone was cracked down the center, stained black by centuries of rain and blood. Ancient symbols were carved across its surface, faded but familiar. My fingers traced them slowly, like touching an old scar. I didn’t need to read them. I knew every word. Memorized it centuries ago. Still, hearing them in my mind never made me hurt less. “When shadow devours the light…” “And the black sun crowns the sky…” “The one born between steel and spell…” “Shall stand where eternity dies.” Silence answered. I let out a slow breath and closed my eyes. Five thousand years. Five thousand years of waiting, hoping and losing. I remembered the first time I stood here. Still been foolish enough to think immortality meant power. It was a prison. “You are blessed, child.” I can hear my mother’s voice. Warm. Gentle. Wrong. And could still see her, soft hands stained with herbs, tired eyes full of love, lips trembling as she lay. I opened my eyes. “No,” I whispered to the empty cathedral. I'm not blessed, never blessed. "It was a curse, mother." I coldly whispered. Blood magic was forbidden even then, whispered about only in dark corners and fearful prayers. Ancient. Wild. Hungry. It demanded everything and gave nothing freely. But when the great plague came to this village, when death took children, mothers and fathers without mercy, my family had turned to desperation. My mother had chosen blood. Not for her, but for me and my younger sister. She was dying. My brother and father died protecting us, blocking the ones who want us to death. And we had paid the price. Immortality. Power I had watched my father die first. Next my brother. My mother. Then everyone. Everyone. My throat tightened. Even after all these centuries, grief never truly left. It simply learned how to sleep. I stood straight, feeling something wrong after the wind shifted. The air had changed. The cold deepened, not winter cold, but something older. A cold that likely belonged in graves and forgotten things. I turned slowly. Scanning my surroundings. My expression hardened. “So,” I murmured, voice low and steady, “you found me again.” The darkness wasn’t just present. It was watching. It always had been. Waiting. Learning. Returning. A distant scream echoed from beyond the ancient walls—faint, but close enough. My jaw tightened. “No…” I whispered, stepping forward. They were never prepared. Farmers. Children. People who had nothing but hope and soil beneath their nails. Innocent. "You always felt like making an entrance.” The creature tilted its head. “Siena…” it called, its voice layered like a hundred whispers drowning beneath water. Hearing my name from it felt wrong. Rotten. I lifted my chin. “You’re late.” It moved closer, slow, deliberate. “I do not chase anymore,” it said softly. “I have arrived.” I almost laughed. “That’s new. Took you a few thousand years to come up with that?” It stopped a few steps away. Then its voice changed—smoother now. Almost… familiar. “You’ve grown stronger.” I said nothing. “You’ve survived what should have broken you,” it continued. “You’ve mastered the power most would fear.” A pause. Then— “Join me.” Silence filled the cold empty space. For a second… just a second… the words lingered. Not as a command, but an offer. My grip on my sword tightened. “…No.” It didn’t react. “You misunderstand,” it said calmly. “I am not here to fight you.” I let out a dry laugh. “You slaughter villages to get my attention, and you think I’ll believe that?” “They are… insignificant.” Something in my chest twisted. “You haven’t changed,” I said coldly. “I have evolved,” it corrected. “And you could too.” The surrounding shadows shifted, almost gently now. “We are not enemies, Sera. We never were.” My eyes narrowed. “You hunted me for centuries.” “I guided you.” That made me step forward. “Don’t twist it.” “I made you stronger.” “You destroyed everything I ever had.” “And yet,” it said softly, “you’re still standing.” That hit deeper than I wanted. I clenched my jaw. “I’m not joining you.” A pause. “You will.” “No.” “You cannot run forever.” A small smile touched my lips, sharp, cold. “I don’t need to run.” Its head tilted slightly. “I can keep choosing not to follow you.” For a moment, the place went still. Then it tried again, voice quieter now. “You’re tired.” I froze. “You’ve been alone for so long,” it continued. “Fighting something you don’t understand. Carrying power that’s killing you piece by piece.” My fingers twitched slightly. It stepped closer. “I can stop the pain.” I looked at it—really looked. At the thing that had taken everything from me. “You don’t get to offer me peace,” I said quietly. “You already belong to me.” That did it. “No.” The word came out sharper this time. Stronger. Final. It paused. Then, softer. “… You always refuse.” “And you always come back.” Silence stretched between us. Then it spoke again, almost amused. “They scream beautifully tonight.” Something inside me snapped. “I’m done talking.” It laughed. Low. Hollow. Wrong. When it turned, the wound was already closing. “Still defiant.” I faced it fully, crimson hair catching the moonlight. “Still breathing.” The ground trembled. “If you want me…” My voice was barely beyond a whisper. Blood answered magic. My eyes burned crimson. “Come and bleed for it.” And then the night exploded.