Page 102 of Goddess of Light

We move cautiously, our steps echoing against the stone. The air grows colder the further we go in, the oppressive stillness pressing down like a suffocating hand. The walls, once adorned with intricate carvings of my reign, are now covered in dark, pulsing veins of shadow, as though the castle itself is decaying, rotting from the inside out.

The first chamber we enter has us pass by the crypt, the macabre theatre for the Sect of the Undead. Statues of saints stand outside of the chapel, their faces frozen in expressions that look like serene repose at first glance, but the light from our lanterns reveals their true state: their eyes have been hollowed out, bleeding trails of crimson wax down their faces. Dozens of candles are melted onto their bodies, pooling at their feet, and the wax glimmers like fresh blood.

I’ve always hated these fucking things.

“What the hell?” mutters General Suvari, as he and the rest of the troops stare at the statues in disbelief.

“Stay alert,” I say, my voice low but firm. “This is no sanctuary.”

We move deeper into the chamber, the shadows stretching and shifting unnaturally. I glance back at the statues, unease prickling at the back of my neck. Something isn’t right. I swear their empty eyes are watching me.

Tuonen said that Louhi was attempting to free the saints. But they don’t look like?—

A scream cuts through the silence.

Not a human scream, nor even that of a beast. It’s a twisted, otherworldly wail, like the tearing of metal mixed with the agony of lost souls. The sound makes the air vibrate, and every hair on my body stands on end.

The statues move.

One by one, they jerk to life, their wax-dripping limbs cracking and splintering as they lurch forward. Their eyeless faces turn toward us, mouths opening wide in screams that echo off the walls. From the hollowed sockets of their eyes, black snakes pour out, writhing and hissing as they hit the stone floor.

“Defensive positions!” General Suvari bellows, his sword flashing as he steps forward to meet the onslaught.

Chaos erupts. The statues swarm us, their waxen forms surprisingly fast and strong. One lunges at me, its stone fingers reaching for my throat. I pivot, still holding onto Tuonen as I drive my sword upward into its chest. The blade sinks deep, and with a shuddering scream, the statue crumbles to the ground in a heap of wax and stone.

Another comes at me, swinging a jagged arm that glints with embedded shards of marble. I block the blow with my gauntlet, the impact rattling my bones, and drive my swordthrough its face. The statue’s scream falters, then dies as its body disintegrates into a pile of ash and melted wax.

Hanna steps forward, her light blazing as she sends arcs of golden energy at the writhing snakes. They hiss and sizzle, curling in on themselves as the light burns them away. Vellamo fights beside her, her spear a blur as she hacks through the serpentine forms and strikes down another statue.

Despite our efforts, the statues keep coming. They claw and bite, their movements erratic and horrifying, and they don’t seem to fucking stay dead. Soldiers fall, their screams mingling with the unearthly wails of the statues, but we can’t afford to lose any more of them. The snakes slither underfoot, striking at exposed flesh, their venom causing agonizing seizures.

“Focus on the statues!” I shout, slashing through another attacker. “Destroy them, and the snakes will follow!”

The battle is brutal but brief. One by one, the statues are reduced to rubble, their screeches fading into silence. The last snake hisses as Vellamo spears it cleanly in two.

The chamber falls still.

We stand amidst the wreckage, breathing hard, our weapons dripping with wax. The faint light of our lanterns flickers, casting uneasy shadows across the walls. The crypt is silent once more, but the damage is done. Several soldiers lie dead, their faces twisted in pain, their bodies coiled from snake bites.

Fuck. We couldn’t get more than a few feet in my damn home before losing more comrades. You’d think their deaths would be easier at this point, after all that I’ve lost, but it isn’t.

We press on, leaving the desecrated crypt behind. The air grows colder as we ascend the winding stairs. I can feel the castle’s lifeblood, the very essence of Tuonela, drained and twisted. Every step is a reminder of what Louhi has stolen from me.

At the top of the stairs, we enter the grand hall, its vaulted ceiling stretching high above. The air here is colder still, biting at my skin even through my armor. Louhi’s corruption is everywhere—the walls are lined with skeletal remains, and shadowy tendrils pulse through the stone like veins.

The sound of clattering bones draws our attention. Skeletons step out from the shadows, their hollow eyes glowing faintly. At their forefront are my former servants, the Deadmaidens—tall, veiled figures with gloved hands. Once, they were the silent guardians of my castle, loyal to me and my family alone. Now, their veils are torn, showing monstrous faces underneath, their movements jerky and unnatural, and their gloves are gone, showcasing various claws. They lurch forward with a hungry growl and the sound of snapping jaws.

“How could you?” I murmur, my chest tightening. “You were mine.”

Hanna steps to my side, her expression unreadable. “They’re hers now.”

There’s no time for hesitation. The skeletons and Deadmaidens charge, their movements unnervingly synchronized. The clash is immediate and ferocious. Blades spark against bone as our group meets the attack head-on.

Vellamo’s single-handed spear flashes as she carves through the skeletons with precision. Tellervo uses a sword to parry them off as Torben steps in and uses his staff as a baseball bat, knocking a few heads down the hallway.

I focus on the Deadmaidens. Their speed and unpredictability make them formidable, but they’re no match for me. Without letting go of my son, I drive my sword through one’s ribcage. The Deadmaiden lets out a piercing shriek before crumpling to the ground.

Another leaps at me, its movements impossibly fast. I pivot, catching its claws with my gauntlet, and slam my sword into itsneck. The blow decapitates it cleanly, and its body collapses into a heap of bones and tattered fabric.

---