CHAPTER 5 : The Summit
884 Words
CHAPTER 5 — The Summit
They reached the summit just as the wind fell silent.
No birds.
No distant movement.
Only stone.
Dark and smooth, as if it had been waiting longer than time itself.
Eve’s breath shortened the moment her foot touched the highest ground.
The pain struck instantly.
Sharper than before.
It tore through her from within.
She staggered.
Adam caught her.
“Eve.”
Her fingers dug into his arm, but her strength was already fading. The world around her seemed to tilt—not outward, but inward.
The sky dimmed.
Not darker.
Just drained.
“I—” she tried to speak.
Her knees gave way.
Adam lowered her carefully onto the stone, panic rising in his eyes.
“Stay with me. Eve—”
But her vision is blurred.
Edges softened.
Sound thinned.
And then—
He was there.
The man stood several steps away, where shadow and light met. Tall. Still. His features were indistinct, as though the air refused to hold his shape.
He had been waiting.
A movement beside him.
Smooth.
Measured.
The serpent emerged from the curve of a rock, its scales glinting faintly.
“It begins,” it said.
Adam turned sharply.
He had not heard the voice.
But he felt it.
The sword lay between them.
Eve had not seen it before.
It rested upright in stone—embedded, unmoving.
It began to pulse.
Not brightly.
Just faintly.
As though responding to her.
Adam stared at it.
The serpent’s voice lowered.
“Aden.”
The name slipped through the air like a command disguised as a whisper.
Adam’s breath shifted.
Something tightened behind his eyes.
His hand moved.
Not quickly.
Not violently.
But with strange, unnatural certainty.
He stepped toward the sword.
His fingers wrapped around its hilt.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then the pulse deepened.
Stronger.
He pulled.
The blade slid free with a low metallic whisper.
Eve tried to sit up.
Her body refused.
Her mouth opened.
She screamed.
But no sound came.
Silence swallowed everything.
The man watched.
The serpent’s eyes gleamed.
“Do it,” the serpent breathed.
Adam’s arm trembled.
Confusion flickered across his face—like a storm trapped behind glass.
The blade lifted.
But before it could descend—
His grip faltered.
Fear surged through him.
Not rage.
Not hatred.
Fear.
His hand slipped slightly against the hilt.
The blade shifted.
And in that brief, uncontrolled motion—
The edge sliced across his palm.
A sharp, shallow cut.
He gasped.
The sword nearly fell from his grasp.
Blood welled instantly, dark against his skin.
The sting was immediate.
Real.
It broke something in his expression.
For a heartbeat, he was himself.
He stared at the blood as if seeing it for the first time.
The serpent’s voice hardened.
“Finish it.”
Adam’s jaw clenched.
His wounded hand tightened again around the hilt.
The blade rose once more.
Eve’s sight dimmed at the edges.
The sword pulsed.
Once.
Twice.
Then began its descent.
—
She gasped.
Air flooded her lungs violently.
The world snapped back into place.
Pale gray light filled the sky.
Early morning.
Not night.
Not the summit.
The tree.
The woven coverings.
The place where they had slept.
Where they had kissed.
Her heart hammered so hard it hurt.
She turned instantly.
“Adam—”
Empty.
The space beside her was cold.
Her breath shortened again, panic rising without hesitation.
She sat up too quickly. Dizziness swayed her vision.
“Adam.”
Her voice cracked.
No answer.
The light was thin—dawn struggling through fading darkness. The world felt unfinished, half-formed.
She stood.
Too fast.
Her hand instinctively pressed against her chest.
A sharp sting shot through her.
She froze.
Slowly, she pulled her hand away.
There, just beneath her collarbone—
A faint mark.
Thin.
Almost like a line of pale silver etched into her skin.
Her fingers brushed it again.
It stung.
Not deep.
Not unbearable.
But real.
Her breath trembled.
“No…”
She looked toward the hill.
It stood in the distance.
Unmoved.
Unchanged.
Or—
Closer?
She couldn’t tell.
The air felt different.
Still.
Listening.
“Adam!” she called again, louder this time.
Silence.
Then—
From somewhere ahead—
A branch snapped.
Not far.
Not close.
Just enough.
Eve’s body went still.
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