Page 48 of A Touch of Madness

Ravenna hesitates for a moment, then nods. "We can channel a temporary fortification spell, but it won’t last long. It’ll give her enough energy to make it through the forest, but she’ll need rest after that."

“Do it,” I say, stepping aside to let them work. Sylvie looks at me with glassy eyes, clearly trying to protest, but the words don’t come. I steady her with a hand on her shoulder, murmuring, “Let them help.”

The elders form a small circle around Sylvie, their hands raised as they begin to chant in low, melodic tones. Light shimmers between them, a soft, golden glow that washes over Sylvie. Her breathing steadies, and the color returns to her cheeks. The trembling in her hands subsides, and when the spell fades, she looks stronger, more grounded.

Her eyes lift to mine, unfocused and dazed, but she nods. The elders gather around Ravenna, their whispered voices urgent as they discuss our next steps.

“The incantation can’t be performed here,” one of them says, her voice low and measured. “This chamber’s magic is too volatile. We’ll need to retreat to safer ground and Sylvie isn’t equipped currently.”

“Agreed,” Ravenna replies. “We’ll regroup at the edge of the forest.”

“You think they’ll just let us walk out of here?” Viago asks, his blade still glinting with blood as he glances toward the shadows at the far end of the room. His tone is sharp, but even he seems wary of what lies ahead.

Before anyone can answer, the air shifts. A cold wind sweeps through the chamber, extinguishing several of the torches. My senses sharpen, every nerve on edge as three figures step from the shadows.

The leader is unmistakable. Amara, clad in flowing black robes that seem to ripple with unnatural energy, stands at the forefront. Her eyes gleam like shards of obsidian, and her very presence makes the air heavier. Flanking her are two men, their towering forms brimming with the same dark magic that radiates from her.

“You think you’ve won?” Amara’s voice is sharp, cutting through the silence like a blade. Her gaze sweeps over the group, lingering on Sylvie and the Mirror in her hands. “Fools. You’ve only ensured your own destruction. I told you, Sylvie. I am always one step ahead.”

The elders move swiftly, forming a protective barrier around Sylvie. Their magic hums in the air, clashing with the oppressive force emanating from Amara and her men.

“You’re not taking it back,” Ravenna says, stepping forward. Her hands glow with a ferocious light as she squares off against the Solstice leader.

Amara’s smile is cold and destructive, her gaze locking onto Sylvie with a chilling intensity. “You don’t understand what you’ve unleashed. That relic isn’t salvation. It’s a curse—a burden that will hollow you from the inside out. The Mirror doesn’t grant power freely; it demands a price. Every ounce of strength you take from it will strip away pieces of your soul. Do you think you’re strong enough to wield it? To bear its weight? It will consume you, little by little, until there’s nothing left.”

She steps closer, her voice dropping to a venomous whisper that seems to echo in the chamber. “It was forged in betrayal, bound by blood, and steeped in magic so dark that it taints everything it touches. Even now, it’s burrowing into her. Can’t you feel it? The Mirror takes more than it gives, and when it’s done with her, it’ll turn on the rest of you.”

Ravenna’s eyes narrow, her voice seething as she steps forward. “It wasn’t always dark magic,” she snaps, her tone cutting through the tension like a blade. “Not until your precious Society stole it from the Witches’ Guild. That relic was once a tool of balance and protection, but you corrupted it, twisted its purpose for your own gain. If it’s a curse now, it’s because you made it one.”

She straightens, her voice hardening further as she continues. “We won’t buy into your mind games. That relic belongs to us, to the Witches’ Guild, and it holds all the power your Society has channeled into it. We know the truth, Amara. Once it’s destroyed, your entire foundation collapses. Solstice’s power will be gone, and you know it.”

Before anyone can respond, her men attack. Dark tendrils of magic lash out, striking against the barrier the elders have erected. The impact sends shockwaves through the room, and the barrier flickers but holds. Lucian’s voice rings out over the chaos.

“Hold the line! Don’t let them breach!”

The fight is brutal. Amara commands her magic with precision, her hands weaving spells that cut through the air like whips. The elders retaliate, their combined power creating bursts of light that clash violently with the dark magic. One of Amara’s men charges forward, his body wreathed in shadow, but Dorian intercepts him, their blades meeting in a shower of sparks.

“Sylvie, stay back!” I shout as another wave of magic surges toward us. She stumbles, still clutching the Mirror, but Rebecca and Nicole pull her into the protective circle the elders have formed.

The second man lunges at Viago, his hands blazing with black fire. Viago sidesteps the attack, his blade carving a deep gash across the man’s chest. The Solstice enforcer snarls, his wound leaking a thick, dark ichor that seems more magic than blood.

“They’re drawing from her,” Ravenna says, her voice strained as she deflects another strike. “Amara’s feeding them power. We need to sever the connection.”

“Then take her down,” I say, my tone sharp.

Ravenna’s jaw tightens, and for the first time, hesitation flickers across her face. The elders chant louder, their voices weaving into a crescendo of light that strikes against Amara’s dark magic. But it’s not enough. The oppressive force radiating from her doesn’t waver; if anything, it grows stronger. One of the elders cries out as the backlash of their spell slams into her, knocking her to the ground, unmoving.

Ravenna curses under her breath, her hands trembling as she conjures another barrier to shield us. “Her magic... it’s too twisted, too layered. This isn’t just dark magic; it’s something far worse. We can’t overpower it like this.”

“What are you saying?” I demand, my blade cutting down a shadowy tendril creeping toward Sylvie.

Ravenna turns to Sylvie, her eyes filled with both urgency and dread. “Sylvie, we may only have one option. The Mirror. We destroy it here and now. It’s the only way to sever her connection and stop her.”

Sylvie’s eyes widen, her grip tightening around the Mirror. “But... if we destroy it, what happens to Lara? What if?—”

Ravenna interrupts, her voice fierce. “If we don’t destroy it, Amara will kill us all. Her power is feeding off the Mirror, and as long as she’s connected to it, she’s unstoppable. You have to decide, Sylvie. Now.”

The weight of the decision bears down on all of us, but none more than Sylvie. Her gaze flickers between the glowing surface of the Mirror and the chaos unfolding around her, her breathing shallow as she wrestles with the terrible choice laid before her.

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