Page 40 of Mirror of Vanity

I glanced at Garrick and Justice, wondering if they shared my unease. Garrick’s jaw was set in a determined line as he scanned the forest ahead, while Justice’s eyes glowed red like he was sensing an unseen threat. They had both sworn to protect me, and their promise was about to be tested.

The sun disappeared, swallowing our path in darkness. Our only hope was for the moonlight to light the way.

“Lead on,” Justice urged, “I can see in the dark.”

Garrick nodded, his expression grim. “I know the way,” he replied. “But be warned. When we get closer, despair will grip you, and all hope will depart.”

A chill ran down my spine, but I refused to let fear consume me. We had come too far to turn back now.

I met Garrick’s gaze and nodded, my resolve hardening like steel. Questions burned on the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them back. The forest had ears, and we all understood the unspoken rule. Keep your mouth shut and your wits about you, for the slightest misstep could spell our doom.

As we pressed deeper, something else was happening, an insidious change that crept up on us like a thief in the night. Our steps grew sluggish, each movement requiring a Herculean effort. With every passing moment, my hopes slipped away, replaced by a suffocating sense of defeat that seemed to emanate from the trees themselves. My heart grew heavy and dropped into my gut like a leaden weight.

The shadows appeared to darken, the oppressive gloom becoming almost tangible. The air grew colder, carrying a bitter chill that seeped into my bones, numbing me from the inside out. Even our footsteps seemed muffled, swallowed by an eerie silence that pressed in on us from all sides.

“We’re getting close,” Garrick commented over his shoulder. “Can you feel it?”

I noted the grim set of his jaw and the haunted look in his eyes. He had warned us about the despair, and now I saw even he was not immune to its effects.

“Depressed doesn’t come close to what I’m feeling,” Justice mumbled, his usually vibrant voice flat and lifeless.

After another grueling hour with no moon or stars to guide our way, Garrick finally stopped. Weariness gripped me, and my legs wobbled as I fought the overwhelming urge to collapse. I leaned heavily against a nearby tree, panting, my lungs burning with each labored breath. If I sat down, I might not have the strength to stand again. A glance at Justice revealed he was in a similar state, face etched with exhaustion.

I glanced around the forest and froze. A statue of an angel, its wings unfurled and its hand outstretched in a pointing gesture, stood sentinel among the trees. It looked so odd out here.

“Justice, look.” I headed toward it.

I couldn’t resist putting my hand on the cool, smooth marble. The angel’s features were rendered in exquisite detail, but it was the sense of recognition that jolted me like a lightning strike.

I gasped, my hand flying to my mouth as the memory of my vision crashed over me. I had seen this statue before in the fragmented glimpses of a future I couldn’t quite grasp.

Justice came up beside me and put his hands on my shoulders. “What’s wrong? You’re as white as a ghost.”

I turned toward him. “This is the angel statue I saw in my vision, but it was pointing toward a lake with an island and an ancient building.”

“Watch and see.” Garrick glanced at us. He seemed to draw upon some hidden reserve of strength. With a determined set to his jaw, he lifted his palm, and the fabric of the darkness parted before him. A faint, ethereal light emanated from his hand, casting an eerie glow upon the immediate surroundings.

As the shadows receded, a small clearing came into view, its edges bounded by gnarled, ancient trees with branches that reached out like grasping fingers. In the center of the clearing stood a weathered stone building, the same one I had seen in my vision. Strange, arcane symbols that seemed to writhe and dance in the flickering light covered its surface.

As we passed through the veil, I looked around and realized we were on an island like the one I had seen in my vision earlier. The angel had been pointing through the veil.

The ground beneath our feet vibrated subtly, and a low hum resonated through the air as if the earth were murmuring in an old, forgotten language. Suddenly, a shadow began to elongate and twist from behind the building, stretching out longer than any natural shadow should.

The shadow twisted and coiled, and from it emerged a creature of imposing stature. Its body was composed of what appeared to be tightly bound scrolls and ancient books, their spines and covers cracked with age and glowing faintly with mystic energy. The creature’s eyes, if they could be called that, were deep pools of ink, swirling with the knowledge of millennia.

It moved with a grace that belied its unwieldy form, each step deliberate and resonating with the whispered secrets of the countless spells contained within its form. As it faced us, its mouth, a mere slit in the parchment-like skin, opened. Its voice was like the rustling of pages in a long-closed tome.

“Who dares seek the knowledge of the Archive of Shadows?” it intoned, each word echoing around the clearing as if spoken by many voices at once. “Speak your purpose, for not all who enter shall leave with what they seek.”

Garrick stepped forward, his posture respectful yet firm. “We come in desperate need, seeking the means to break a demonic possession that threatens our comrades and our realms. We beseech the guardian of this archive for assistance.”

The creature paused, its inky eyes seeming to peer into our souls. “To enter the Archive of Shadows, you must give up a memory. One you will never experience again.”

Dread settled in my heart like a cold stone. This was the moment I feared the most, the challenge I knew would test the limits of my resolve. My memories, the precious moments that had shaped me into the person I was. The threads that bound me to my past, to the people I’d loved and lost, to the experiences that made me who I was.

The thought of giving up even one of those memories, of losing a piece of myself forever, was like a bitter poison on my tongue. How could I choose which moment to surrender? Which cherished recollection would I have to let go, knowing I would never again be able to relive it, to draw strength and comfort from its warmth?

I closed my eyes, my mind racing through the tapestry of my life. The laughter of my childhood friends, the gentle embrace of my mother, the first time I held a bow in my hands and felt the thrill of the hunt coursing through my veins.

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