Page 55 of Isle of Beasts and Shadows

“Jonathan,” she whispered once more, her eyes shut tightly against the harsh reality of their circumstances, “we have a lot of planning to do.” Airella’s melodious voice floated through the air, a beacon of hope amidst the encroaching darkness.

The necklace adorning her neck glowed with a soft azure light each time Jonathan spoke, a manifestation of the unwavering faith she held in Sirius’s strength.

“Sirius is resilient, Airella,” Jonathan whispered with a luminous reassurance. “He possesses a fortitude that can withstand even the fiercest of foes, including the likes of Father.”

The weight of their mission hung in the air, the urgency of their situation fueling her determination to find a way out of the perilous predicament they found themselves in.

Chapter 33

“You’re a fool,” Sirius growled as he got to his feet, now in the blackened world.

Duran drew his sword as Sirius gave his scythe a twirl, the metallic blade catching the dim light that seeped through the eerie atmosphere.

“You and I had a deal when I first set foot in this kingdom. Now I intend to keep my promises.” Sirius threw his scythe to the side, the cold metal clattering against the unforgiving ground, and reached his hands out towards Duran.

Just by trying to examine the world of Limbo, its twisted forms and ghostly figures haunted Duran, leaving him still confused. All around them, human-shaped souls stood, their empty eyes fixed on the unfolding confrontation.

“Where are we? Where have you taken me?” Fear consumed Duran as he yelled in anger, clenching his fists, his knuckles turning white with tension. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead, glistening in the surreal light that bathed the desolate landscape. It was obvious, yet he was trying not to show it, to maintain a semblance of control in the face of the unknown.

Sirius could smell his fear, the sharp tang of adrenaline filling the air. It was exhilarating, a heady mix of power and anticipation.

“Isn’t it obvious? This, my friend, is your grave. It would cause quite the commotion if our living audience were to see the aftermath after I’m finished with you.” Sirius spoke without an ounce of emotion, his voice carrying a chilling finality. “What’s the fun in keeping it a secret? We could make this a night to remember, that’s for sure.” He inched closer, his movements deliberate and menacing. Every step Sirius took towards the man cowering in fear was mirrored by Duran with a quick step in the opposite direction, a dance of predator and prey in the shadowy realm of Limbo.

“Miscreant! Let me free of your vile world. Now! I demand you!” Duran pointed his sword towards Sirius. The weapon rapidly shook in his hands, the metal glinting in the dim light of the darkened ballroom.

“Oh, no. You don’t demand it. You need it. You’re scared. I can sense the fear seeping from your pores.” Sirius continuously stepped in Duran’s direction until his back finally hit the wall of the ballroom, the stones cool against his skin. A twisted smile played on Sirius’s lips as he inched closer, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. “It’s been far too long since I have had a taste of a fresh soul.”

Sirius drew even closer, taking almost no notes of Duran’s sword until he grabbed the blade with his hand, the sharp edge cutting into his flesh. Gold blood oozed from the wound, staining the weapon and the floor beneath.

A sudden sensation of no control washed over Sirius’s body, his movements no longer his own.

“Get out of me!” Sirius screamed as he stumbled back from Duran, his eyes wide with shock. It was as if he were speaking to someone else, a presence within him taking over. Sirius shook his head, the realization dawning on him. Father.

“You keep trying to ruin everything for me, don’t you, Sirius?” The words spilled from Sirius’s mouth, his voice hollow and distant. Panic surged through Sirius as he struggled against the invading force.

“No.” He cried out, his hands shaking as the gold blood from his wounded hand trickled down his face. His will faltered, but a flicker of defiance remained. “Get out of my body, Father.”

“What the hell is going on?” Duran fell to the floor in terror, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes widened in shock. The sight before him was so unexpected, so jarring, that it took a moment for his mind to register the gravity of the situation.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Sirius’s voice dripped with a sadistic tone that seemed to permeate the very air around him, sending chills down Duran’s spine. It was as if the words were not truly coming from Sirius, but from another entity entirely. It was Father speaking through Sirius, his features contorted by an unseen force. The realization struck Duran like a physical blow—Sirius had been possessed.

“Isn’t it simply astounding? The overwhelming power that resonates within you... It’s truly exhilarating!” Father chuckled, all sense of control absent from Sirius’s gaze as his eyes met Duran’s.

Amidst Sirius’s clenched fists and a menacing smirk, Duran retreated to a corner. Slowly advancing with his scythe poised, just as the moment hung in the balance, Sirius’s gazeshifted to his own hand. With a smile playing on his lips, he reached out to Duran, his touch transitioning from a casual caress to an abrupt grasp of the chin, drawing their faces drastically close.

“Mortals! So interesting... to cower in fear, yet hold no interest in what they truly are. How pathetic,” the possessed Sirius remarked.

As he shifted his hand, a faint aura surrounded him, pulsating with a malevolent energy that seemed to sap the very essence from the air. Fixing his gaze upon Duran, his eyes, once vibrant, now bore a hollow emptiness that mirrored the fading hues of sunset. With a haunting grace, Duran’s form withered, each breath escaping him a feeble whisper in the room’s vastness until he collapsed with a disturbing crunch.

“Ah, yes. We have a ship to catch, don’t we?” The false Sirius sneered, a cruel smile twisting his features as he strode towards the towering doors of the palace. With each step, the shadows seemed to coil around him, his figure shrouded in darkness that devoured the feeble light struggling to pierce through.

All lost souls who dared to cross his path met a swift end, their pleas drowned out by the eerie silence that followed the swing of his scythe. Their essence dissipated into the malevolent aura surrounding him, fueling his power with each soul consumed, a chilling display of otherworldly strength.

“It seems the five ships have already set sail,” the possessed Sirius mused, his gaze drifting towards the distant town where the witch’s presence lingered in his memory. “Witches know everything. Isn’t that right, Sirius?” His words, laced with a dark amusement, hinted at a twisted connection that transcended the boundaries of the living and the dead. As heglanced at Duran’s lifeless husk, a silent warning to the citizens of Eldaraya hung in the air, a grim reminder of the consequences that awaited those who dared to defy the darkness that now enveloped their once vibrant land.

“Teleport me to the ship,” Sirius demanded, his voice filled with urgency as he slammed his fist against her alchemy table. Odelle, the old crone, remained composed, though her heart raced. The ingredients scattered across the table, a reflection of the tension in the room.

“Why would I, Dark Beast?” she responded calmly, her gaze steady. “You are not the emotionless Miscreant I met earlier. Who are you?” Her words hinted at a deeper understanding, a knowledge that lay beyond the surface.

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