Ariel stumbled back.
By now, she’d begun to understand what her awakening had done to her.
The first was how her body had changed; it was no longer as easily exhausted, nor did hunger gnaw at her as it once had.
That had brought her a quiet sort of relief. It meant Lilia and Ryn would have more to eat, so she could go longer without burdening them.
But there were other changes, ones far stranger.
Her body felt lighter, unnaturally so, as if the air itself helped her move. Every step, every breath felt unshackled, yet unsteady, like walking in a dream.
She had been struggling to get used to it, often finding herself tripping, her own balance foreign to her.
And then there was the last gift her awakening had given her.
The one that terrified her most.
She could feel them now.
Aberrations.
Not just see them, feel them. Their presence pressed against her mind like knives, scraping and tearing. Their intent seeped through the air, a cold, oily hunger that slithered beneath her skin.
When one drew near, it was as though the world itself held its breath, light dimming, sound fading, even her heartbeat slowing to a crawl.
Now, standing face to face with this thing, that feeling consumed her.
Its existence was like a weight on her soul, crushing and absolute. Her knees weakened as if her body itself wanted to collapse in surrender. Every instinct screamed at her not to breathe, not to exist, for fear that the creature might notice.
It was as if its gaze alone could unravel her, as though she were a fragile thing caught in the eyes of something that should not be.
So she stumbled to the ground, her vision blurring at the edges, every trace of defiance stripped away. The warmth of her own light recoiled within her, refusing to rise against the suffocating darkness.
Ariel was reminded again what it meant to be utterly, irreversibly powerless.
Lilia’s hand clamped around her arm, fingers trembling, voice breaking with panic.
“Ariel, please, get up! We have to move!”
But Ariel couldn’t. She couldn’t even breathe.
Her gaze was locked on the thing before her, a creature that defied form, all limbs and shadow, its body dragging against the ground with a sound like wet stone splitting. Its injured legs scraped and shifted, bending at impossible angles, while dozens of eyes blinked in uneven rhythm, each one glistening with a sickly, molten green. Every gaze it turned toward to her felt like a claw raking through her thoughts.
She wanted to move. She really wanted to.
But her body refused. The air itself felt heavier with each heartbeat, pressing down on her until she could no longer tell if she was breathing at all.
Lilia screamed again, tugging harder. “Ariel! Please!”
Her face twisted.
It was looking at her. No—drawn to her.
The thing’s countless eyes turned in unison, their fractured green reflections all fixed on the faint light flickering beneath her skin. It had felt her, her blessing, the godly spark she couldn’t yet control.
And now it wanted her.
A cold, sick certainty sank through her chest.
They were going to die here.
Lilia first, then Ryn.
And it would be her fault.
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All of it.
Her breath caught in her throat.
I can't leave them.
I can't.
She couldn’t bear it...
Not again.
Please, not again.
Something inside her broke.
She gritted her teeth, her vision tunneling into a single, point, those eyes.
Her fear twisted into something raw, desperate, furious. Her fingers clenched around the knife. The hilt was slick with sweat, but her grip hardened until her knuckles went white.
She rose, staggering, every motion clumsy and fueled by something closer to madness.
The creature’s gaze followed, unblinking.
And then she lunged.
Ariel moved fast.
Faster than thought, faster than breath. The grass rippled outward from where she’d stood as she closed the distance in a single blur of motion.
The creature barely had time to react before the knife drove deep into its nearest eye.
A wet crack split the air.
The monster shrieked, its many legs convulsing, tearing furrows into the earth. Ariel was thrown to the side, but she didn’t let go. She clung to the slick surface of its carapace, dragging the knife free and striking again—
and again—
and again.
Each stab was wild, desperate, the sound of metal meeting flesh drowned out by the creature’s distorted, ear-splitting cries.
A foul, green ichor gushed from its ruined eye, hissing and steaming as it splattered across her arms and gown, burning small holes through the fabric.
But Ariel clung to it, refusing to let go.
Her knife plunged again and again into its eye.
She didn’t care.
She couldn’t stop.
A strangled scream tore from her throat as she drove the blade deeper, her small hands slick with the creature’s blood.
She wasn’t fighting; she was just trying to make it stop moving. The knife kept rising and falling. Her face was twisted, half fury, half terror, as she drove the blade down once more, the fractured moon catching in the sheen of the creature’s blood.
The air reeked of burning flesh and rain.
The aberration shrieked, a sound that split the air and rattled the bones beneath her skin. Its body twisted violently, limbs contorting as it tried to shake her loose. Still, she held on, knife flashing through the misty air.
“Die—die—die!”
She struck again and again. At some point, she wasn’t even sure if she was still hurting it — or if she was just swinging at her own helplessness. Her arms trembled, her vision blurring through a curtain of tears as her voice broke.
The aberration’s shrieks turned from rage to fury. Its broken eye pulsed and convulsed beneath her, the surface rippling as it broke. Then its head twisted around, grotesquely, too fast to follow. One jagged limb lashed out, and before she could react, it slammed into her side.
The world tilted.
She felt herself torn from its head, the knife ripped from her hand as her body was hurled through the air. The impact came a heartbeat later, wood splintering as her body struck a tree hard enough to crack it down the middle. The sound echoed across the clearing like thunder.
Ariel lay there coughing, each breath sharp and ragged. Her lungs burned; every part of her body screamed in pain.
She couldn’t think, only breathe. Pain was everywhere. The world blurred.
However, even through the ache, she realized, she wasn’t dying.
Another gift of her blessing.
Her lips twisted into a faint, breathless smile.
The creature lurched into view again, dragging itself through the dust. It was slower now, limping. Whatever had attacked it before it found them had melted parts of its flesh into glistening ribbons. And both her and Ryn's attacks had left it half-blind.
But still...
Ariel was on the ground.
And it was looming over her.
She couldn’t even lift her arm anymore. The shadow of its body stretched across her face, cold and heavy. She stared up at it.
She was going to die here.
And yet, strangely… she was okay with that.
If she stayed down, if she kept it focused on her, then maybe, just maybe, Lilia and Ryn could escape. That thought was enough to make her smile again, a broken smile, faint and cracked but real.
They'd be safe. They'd survive. They'd leave her behind.
But she wasn't sure which mattered more.
The creature inched closer, its breath a wet, rasping noise that smelled of rot and iron. One clawed limb rose, blotting out the last of the light—
And then something seized her arm.
Ariel gasped as she was yanked backward, the world spinning. She turned just in time to see Lilia, her face streaked with dirt.
Ariel barely had time to protest before she was slung over the maid’s shoulder. The world tilted again, pain flaring through her ribs as Lilia staggered into a run, dragging the cart behind her, Ryn’s unconscious body slumped inside.
The forest blurred around them, trees, dirt, the distant roar of the wounded aberration.
And still, Lilia ran, the weight of both lives pressing into her arms, her breath breaking into the silence of the woods.