Page 130 of Dark Awakening

“Rhyland, I’m Okay.” I protest half-heartedly, knowing we have no time to waste. The Bone-Howlers could recover any second.

“Don’t argue, Angel. I can feel your pain. Let me help you.” His words are a balm amid the chaos, but his forcefulness speaks of an urgency that can’t be ignored.

I collapse against the wall, drained from the battle. My arm feels like it has been shattered by the force of the Howler, sending shock waves of agony throughout my body. I gulp down the pain as tears prick my eyes when I struggle to move, knowing that any slightest movement will unleash another wave of excruciating pain.

Rhyland kneels before me and readies his wrist. He then bites into it deeply enough for a stream of blood to emerge. I raise my lips to it and drink deeply of the magical elixir, which invigorates me as it works through my veins and begins healing my wounds. I experience a jolt of relief as the agony fades away.

Rhyland’s chest heaves, his face pale and drawn from pain. Blood oozes from numerous deep gashes. His tattered shirt clings to his body in gruesome red rivulets.

“Let me help you, please,” I plead.

“I’m fine,” he insists.

He leaves no room to argue, so we make our way farther ahead.

Rhyland

71

My mind drifts back to the chamber and the tale woven in those ancient stones—an ominous darkness sweeping the land, bringing ruin. I know that malevolence all too well, for it was the same shadow that took everything from me, my family in my mortal days. The same cursed darkness I battled as a warrior, watching it consume all I held dear.

Yet on that day long ago, when death's specter loomed over me, something intervened. As my lifeblood drained and shadows closed in, some power pushed back the creeping gloom before my end.

What force sealed away the encroaching oblivion? What unknown providence saw fit to bar the void and grant me a second chance at life? After centuries, the mystery yet gnaws at me.

As we approach another chamber, Dani senses the relic.

"I feel it! It's pulling me in here," she tells us.

As we swing around the bend, there it is, a massive sentinel made of stone, blocking the route ahead like some ancient warning sign. It's a gut-check moment; the sheer size of this thing sends a ripple of anticipation through every nerve we've got. The room's decked out in the old culture's handiwork—lines of black and red carving out history itself on walls that hum with forgotten power, all set against the sheen of that deep, dark obsidian under our feet.

We tread soft and carefully, not keen on breaking the hush here except for the occasional crack that zaps through the air—a sign we're walking somewhere we might not be welcome. We're practically holding our breath. This place commands that sort of respect. The only sound is the ghost of our steps.

Then, we're in the eye of it—those burning coals for eyes staring us down as we stand there. The thing's heat is intense like it's radiating its own personal inferno, and even from this space between us, it's damn near overwhelming. The guardian's gaze is hard to read like it’s weighing us up, trying to figure out if we’re friends or future ash.

"You dare approach the sacred relic? Only those deemed worthy may lay eyes upon it." Its body is a solid, seamless stone. The guardian's deep voice fills the chamber, imbued with power and ancient knowledge. "The relic is meant for a special individual. It contains an energy that can create the impossible."

We stand before the imposing figure, shrouded in a shimmering light. I breathe and speak evenly, "We are aware of this relic's power and will use it only for righteous causes, to restore balance and protect the realms."

The guardian stares at us in stony silence, weighing our words. Adrian steps forward, his tone confident yet courteous. "We speak to you as the ones responsible for fulfilling the prophecy and destiny of the realms. In our search, we found the one who can restore balance—the Light-Born."

The guardian examines Adrian, evaluating his answer. Its voice rumbles, shaking the chamber walls. "The ancient prophecies are cloaked in metaphor. Many have claimed to be Light-Born, but none could prove their worth."

I stride toward it and nod to Dani reassuringly. "Tell him who you are."

Her shaking body tightens, and she stands tall beside me, her bright eyes shimmering in the surrounding lights. She licks her lips, steadying herself before speaking in a confident tone.

"My name is Danica, daughter of Elysium. And I'm here to save your ass."

I can't help but smirk at her smart-ass response.

The sentinel leans down with a grinding of stone, blasting searing heat. It rumbles slowly, "Daughter of Elysium...and under which sign were you born, child?"

Dani's breath catches, heart fluttering like a caged bird. Adrian and I exchange a knowing look—the prophecy foretold the savior was born under a specific star. This is the test.

Dani clears her throat. "Well, if I were to believe in horoscopes, which I don't, then being born in August would make me a Leo." She smirks. "You know, the lion's sign...in case you didn't catch that."

The golem straightens abruptly in a shower of dust. Its voice gains an awed edge. "Leo rises...Prove yourself," it demands.

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