Page 144 of The Shattered Rite
“I know,” she gasped aloud. “I know something’s wrong—I can’t see, I—”
No. Not your eyes. Not just that. Something near.
His presence burned hot in her mind. Alert. Agitated.DANGER.
She gripped Silas’s forearms tighter. “Vaeronth says something’s wrong.”
Silas leaned closer, confused but trying to steady her. “We’re all right. We’re alone.”
“No—” Her voice broke. “He says that danger is near.”
Something brushed the edge of Vaeronth’s senses—a wrongness too slick to grasp. A ripple of malice in the dark.
Too close. MOVE. NOW.
And then—
Silas’ hands tore from her grip.
Not just withdrawn—ripped away.
“Silas?” Eliryn’s voice cracked. The emptiness hit her like a blow. “Silas?!”
The air shifted. A grunt. The rasp of metal. Flesh. The unmistakable, brutal percussion of a body being struck.
“No—wait—Silas—!”
Stay calm. Eliryn. I can’t see through magic and panic—everything’s distorted.
Vaeronth’s voice roared in her mind, trying to reach her through chaos.
Get to the wall. MOVE. MOVE!
“I don’t know what’s happening!” she screamed, her hands lashing through air, reaching, finding nothing.
Behind her were the sounds of combat. Desperate. Wet.
And then—
A sound that didn’t belong in daylight. A wet tearing noise, thick and final.
“Silas!” she screamed again, the word breaking apart in her throat.
Her knees buckled. The air stank of blood now—heavy iron and something else, something colder. Final.
MOVE!Vaeronth thundered.
Eliryn shoved herself to the right, her shoulder slamming into stone. Her palms scraped raw as she clawed her way along the wall, her mind spinning, her body trembling violently.
She could hear it. The shift of fabric soaked through. The rasp of metal through something soft.
Then: silence.
A stillness so complete it rang louder than screams.
She fumbled along the wall, tears streaking her cheeks, breathing ragged.
Please… Silas… please…
