Chapter 114: Unmasking the Shadow
Elara sat cross-legged at the mouth of the crevice, sunlight warming her face for the first time in days. The Guardian of the Crevice crouched beside her, drawing simple runes in the dirt as they chatted. Her voice was softer now, but steady. The torment had receded, and in its place—clarity.
Footsteps pounded the earth.
"Elara!" Ariella's voice rang out as she sprinted toward them, her cloak flying behind her.
Elara stood quickly, a wide smile breaking across her face just as Ariella crashed into her arms.
"I thought I'd lost you," Ariella whispered, clinging tightly.
"I thought I'd lost myself," Elara murmured, resting her chin on Ariella's shoulder. "But I found a way back."
They pulled apart, the relief in their eyes enough to soften days of suffering.
The Guardian gave them a quiet nod before vanishing into the crevice mist.
As they walked back to the village, Elara shared what little she could remember—visions of the dead, voices that scraped her soul, and Kai's arrival that had shattered the veil between her and madness.
"I'm healing," she said as they crossed the ridge. "Not just my body… everything."
"I'm just glad you're back," Ariella said, squeezing her hand. "We need you."
But joy was fleeting.
By midday, screams rang out from the eastern edge of the village. Seraphina's body had been found near her quarters—lifeless, cold, a single clean wound across her neck. No signs of a struggle.
As the girls go there, Albert was standing nearby, wiping blood from his hands. His face held a smirk.
"I killed her," he said, as if it were the weather.
A crowd had gathered, but silence fell.
"She gave my mother's pendant to the shadow," he went on. "To help him… break me."
Ariella's heart sank. She exchanged a glance with Elara. Albert had been locked away when that happened. He shouldn't have known.
Seraphina's betrayal had been discussed only in whispers among the trusted, long after Kaelith's trial. Only the shadow had known… and now Albert spoke with his voice.
Later, inside their training house, the girls sat together in a circle of candlelight.
"He's not Albert," Elara said flatly. "That wasn't just revenge. That was the shadow finishing what Seraphina started."
"He escaped," Ariella whispered. "The same day you were freed. The Queens warned me. They said… he's hunting again. And Albert—he was broken, Elara. Weak. That's when the shadow must have taken him."
They fell into silence, only the candles flickering.
"We need proof," Elara finally said.
They retrieved Mira's old diary—the one meant for her son. Ariella handed it to Albert at dusk. "You dropped this. I thought it might mean something to you."
Albert took one look and recoiled. "That filthy thing? I… I mean—thank you. I was looking for it." He quickly stuffed it under his arm.
But they'd seen it. That flash of disgust in his eyes. That hesitation. The real Albert would have wept at the sight of his mother's words.
That was enough.
They didn't confront him. Not yet. If he knew they suspected, they might lose their chance. Instead, they started preparing quietly—studying rites to extract a soul from a possessed body. Most ended in death for the host.
But it was a risk they had to take.
Then, horror struck.
A messenger arrived in the middle of the night, trembling and pale. "A girl… a girl … had gone to fetch water from the river, she's dead," he stammered. "They found her… scattered. Parts of her, hanging from trees."
Elara rose first. "We don't have time."
"We act now," Ariella agreed.
They devised a trap.
Albert had always been drawn to the old ritual grounds on the hilltop. They placed an old relic there—an artifact of the shadow's past, supposedly powerful enough to draw dark souls. Then they waited.
He came.
"Albert," Elara called, stepping into view.
He froze. Then smiled thinly. "You found me out, didn't you?"
"We did," Ariella said coldly. "But we had to be sure."
He stepped closer, eyes glinting. "Do you want to know why I killed that little girl?" His tone turned mocking. "Because I wanted you to see me. Not the host. Me. I wanted the fear back in your eyes."
"You're not him," Elara said.
He tilted his head. "No, I'm not."
Black tendrils coiled beneath his skin. "But I've learned from him. He was always too soft with you two."
He lunged.
The battle broke out fast and vicious. Ariella dodged a shadow strike and blasted him with light. Elara called forth winds that slammed him into the ritual stones. But he laughed, his voice echoing with two tones—Albert's and something darker.
"You think this is enough? You think you can destroy me?!"
Together, they pushed back with everything they had—light, wind, flame. He faltered, staggered, then screamed.
Thick smoke burst from his chest, rising like a pillar. Albert's body dropped limply to the grass.
The shadow shrieked as it vanished into the trees.
They ran to Albert.
"Elara, he's not breathing," Ariella cried, pressing trembling fingers to his neck.
"No pulse—Ariella, we were too late!" Elara's voice cracked as she knelt beside him. "No, no—we did this to save him!"
"We can't lose him. Not like this."
Desperation drove them. Ariella tried to channel healing light, but it fizzled the moment it touched him. Elara gripped his hand, whispering his name over and over. His body was pale, limp… barely a shell.
With nowhere else to turn, Ariella raised her eyes to the sky. "Queens," she pleaded. "Please—we did all we could. He doesn't deserve to die like this."
Wind howled suddenly through the ritual field.
The clouds churned.
Then the sky split open in a silent burst of color—white and blue light spilled forth like soft rain, casting a gentle glow across the clearing. A hush fell over the world.
Their voices came not in thunder, but in a whisper that trembled through the trees and grass:
"You've done what you could."
A streak of white-blue light descended slowly and fell upon Albert's body like a blanket, wrapping him in a glow so soft it seemed made of memory and mercy. His chest rose faintly—once.
"He has suffered… more than most."
"His time in the crevice weakened his spirit. His body was a vessel ready to be claimed."
Elara's voice trembled. "Will he live?"
"That is no longer in your hands," came the reply. "It will depend on his will to return. His soul is free… but broken. You gave him the chance."
The light faded slowly. The sky stitched itself shut.
Albert lay still.
But his chest rose once more—then again.
"Come back," Ariella whispered, clutching his hand. "Come back to us."
And in that fragile moment, Elara and Ariella held onto hope—not just for Albert, but for the first real victory against the shadow.
A quiet one.
But a victory nonetheless.