Chapter 7: The Echoes of the Past
The rift that Dorian had opened pulsed with malevolent energy, and from it, a dark mist poured forth, enveloping the entire clearing. The cursed souls of Vioro - now twisted, their faces frozen in eternal agony - rose from the depths of the rift. Their hollow eyes sought Elara, their mouths open in silent screams, and their movements were erratic, as though they were puppets tethered to an unseen force.
But Elara didn't falter. She couldn't afford to.
"You have no idea what you've done," Kael spat, pushing himself to his feet despite the violent tremors beneath him. "The king's spirit is not just bound to this land. It's tied to the very fabric of the curse. By releasing the Abyss, you've given him control over everything - over us, over the world."
The words cut deep into Elara's mind. As she tried to make sense of it all, a sudden rush of images flooded her consciousness - visions of the past, of the town before its fall. She saw the king, once regal and proud, standing in front of the townspeople, his eyes burning with ambition. She saw the ritual - an ancient, forbidden rite - meant to summon the Abyss, to bind the town to its power, and to give the king dominion over life itself.
But something had gone wrong. The king's arrogance had been his undoing. Instead of gaining control, he had been consumed by the very power he had sought to command. The curse had not given him dominion. It had made him a prisoner, bound to the land forever, his spirit tied to the Abyss.
And then she saw it - the king's final, desperate act before he was lost to the Abyss. He had sealed his soul in the heart of the cursed tree, hoping that one day someone would come to release him. But the price of that release was the sacrifice of everything the town had ever known.
Elara gasped, her hand gripping her chest as the vision faded. She understood now. She wasn't just fighting to break the curse. She was fighting to stop the king from rising again, to prevent the world from being swallowed by the darkness he had unleashed.
As the rift grew larger, pulling in everything around it, the king's voice echoed through the clearing, a voice now warped by the Abyss.
"You cannot stop me, child. The Abyss is eternal."
The ground beneath Elara's feet cracked open as the spirits of the town began to merge with the rift. The town's past - its sins, its betrayals - seemed to swirl within the darkness.
The rift that Dorian had opened pulsed with malevolent energy, and from it, a dark mist poured forth, enveloping the entire clearing. The cursed souls of Vioro - now twisted, their faces frozen in eternal agony - rose from the depths of the rift. Their hollow eyes sought Elara, their mouths open in silent screams, and their movements were erratic, as though they were puppets tethered to an unseen force.
But Elara didn't falter. She couldn't afford to.
"You have no idea what you've done," Kael spat, pushing himself to his feet despite the violent tremors beneath him. "The king's spirit is not just bound to this land. It's tied to the very fabric of the curse. By releasing the Abyss, you've given him control over everything - over us, over the world."
The words cut deep into Elara's mind. As she tried to make sense of it all, a sudden rush of images flooded her consciousness - visions of the past, of the town before its fall. She saw the king, once regal and proud, standing in front of the townspeople, his eyes burning with ambition. She saw the ritual - an ancient, forbidden rite - meant to summon the Abyss, to bind the town to its power, and to give the king dominion over life itself.
But something had gone wrong. The king's arrogance had been his undoing. Instead of gaining control, he had been consumed by the very power he had sought to command. The curse had not given him dominion. It had made him a prisoner, bound to the land forever, his spirit tied to the Abyss.
And then she saw it - the king's final, desperate act before he was lost to the Abyss. He had sealed his soul in the heart of the cursed tree, hoping that one day someone would come to release him. But the price of that release was the sacrifice of everything the town had ever known.
Elara gasped, her hand gripping her chest as the vision faded. She understood now. She wasn't just fighting to break the curse. She was fighting to stop the king from rising again, to prevent the world from being swallowed by the darkness he had unleashed.
As the rift grew larger, pulling in everything around it, the king's voice echoed through the clearing, a voice now warped by the Abyss.
"You cannot stop me, child. The Abyss is eternal."
The ground beneath Elara's feet cracked open as the spirits of the town began to merge with the rift. The town's past - its sins, its betrayals - seemed to swirl within the darkness.
Support Tolulope Ogundijo 
