Page 61 of The Demon and the Broken Girl

He coughs, supporting me. “Battered but breathing,” he gasps. “We snatched a guard’s keys… had to make a stand.”

I cling to him briefly, then spin—my hearing locked on Daeva’s strangled groans. The hall quakes. A horrifying shriek echoes, half man, half ancient specter. The ancestor, presumably, stands at the heart of this maelstrom.

Without thinking, I run toward Daeva’s voice, Silas shouting behind me. The swirl of demonic magic is so thick it numbs my teeth. “Daeva!” I cry, voice cracking.

He’s at the center, presumably locked in a spectral struggle. The ancestor’s laugh keens, echoing off pillars. My mind conjures the image: a withered husk of an elf, connected to Daeva by a thread of black energy. If that tether breaks violently, we might lose him.

I can’t allow that.Summoning what remains of my newfound mirror-sight, I focus on the swirling silver in my darkness. A wave of insight hits me: I can guide the severing of the bond if I harness the shards correctly.Like a mirror reflecting back his curse.

“Daeva,” I whisper, stepping closer. My hand gropes, meeting the swirl of chaotic current. Pain lances me, but I push through, pressing my palm to his chest. I feel his heart racing. “Don’t do it alone,” I murmur. “Use me… my bond with you… let’s shape the magic, not destroy ourselves.”

He gasps, eyes flicking to me—though I can’t see, I sense the disbelief in his aura. “Calla— I can’t?—”

But we have no time. The ancestor howls, a surge of necrotic force slamming into Daeva. I thrust forward, letting the shards behind my eyes swirl, channeling the reflection. A wave of raw essence converges through me, meeting Daeva’s demonic might. We stand in the storm, forging an act of defiance.

The air crackles with unstoppable force. I hear Kaelith’s scream, the patter of fleeing elves. My mind reels as I reflect theancestor’s power back at him, letting Daeva’s chaos meld with the mirror’s stolen visions.

An agonized shriek tears through the hall. The old tyrant’s voice cracks with sudden fear: “No… you can’t?—!”

A pillar collapses with thunderous noise. The floor lurches. My entire body burns, tears of blood coursing under the bandages. But I cling to Daeva, refusing to let him vanish. The bond hums with violent crescendo, threatening to unravel.

Then… release. A tidal wave of black and silver bursts outward, rattling the walls. Silence crashes in, thick and suffocating. I slump against Daeva, knees weak. The ancestor’s presence flickers, guttural curses trailing into nothingness. Is he dead? Is the bond severed?

My mind swirls. “Daeva?” I manage, chest heaving. “Are you…?”

He sags, gripping my arms. “I’m… here,” he gasps, voice unsteady. “I think— I didn’t vanish.”

Relief floods me, tears spilling. Our bond remains, a faint pulse. The old tyrant’s aura is gone or severely diminished, maybe sealed.We did it.

Footsteps approach. Silas’s voice, breathless with awe: “Calla… Daeva… you destroyed him?”

I can’t answer, too dizzy, blood trickling from my nose and eyes. Daeva breathes raggedly. “Could be… we severed his link.” He coughs, body shaking. “But Vaerathis is in chaos. We must get out before they regroup.”

A new swirl of footsteps—Cole, Ryn, Jenna perhaps. They gather around, chattering in relief. I sense them freeing me from any remaining chain, helping Daeva walk. The echo of crumbling stone and panicked elf voices fill the hall. Some flee; others lie unconscious. Kaelith is nowhere to be heard, possibly escaped or pinned under debris. Good riddance.

We stumble through the corridors. My friends guide me, Silas supporting my right side, Daeva leaning on Cole’s shoulder. The fortress reels under structural damage from the unleashed magic, walls shaking. The stench of burnt incense and fear saturate the air.We must escape.

At last, we reach the courtyard, battered and half-limping. The portcullis stands open, guards absent or too panicked to stop us. Daylight floods my bandages with a faint glow, though I still see nothing but black. The wind hits us, so fresh it nearly brings me to tears again.

We limp across the drawbridge, each step a victory over death. My knees wobble, exhaustion threatening to collapse me. Yet Silas and Daeva keep me upright. I can barely hear over the thunder of my heartbeat, but eventually we clear the fortress gates. The forest beckons, a sanctuary from this dreadful place.

We collapse in the shade of twisted pines, breathing in unison, ragged and broken. My bandaged eyes stream blood tears. Daeva cradles me, ignoring his own injuries. Silas, Cole, Ryn, and Jenna gather around, battered but alive, murmuring relief, exchanging stunned glances. We don’t speak much, all of us trembling with the aftermath.

At length, I rest my head on Daeva’s shoulder, hearing his heart still race. “It’s over?” I whisper, hardly believing. “Is he… truly gone?”

He inhales shakily. “The tether… I cut it, with your help.” A subdued wonder permeates his voice. “I don’t feel him anymore. The ancestor’s presence is… gone.”

Tears slip from my ruined eyes.We survived.My friends are safe. The old tyrant’s immortality snuffed out. I choke on a laugh that edges toward sobbing. “We did it,” I breathe.

Daeva’s arms tighten around me, voice trembling with unnameable emotion. “Yes. The contract might still existbetween us, but the part binding me to him is shattered.” He cups my cheek. “You saved me, Calla… again.”

I bury my face against his neck, letting the relief wash over me in shuddering waves. My friends’ voices murmur reassurance, though I catch fragments of their concern—my eyes, our injuries, the uncertain future.But for now, we’ve broken Vaerathis’s hold.No more ritual. No more ancient tyrant looming in Daeva’s nightmares.

Night approaches swiftly, and we remain huddled at the forest’s edge, too exhausted to venture farther. My blindness remains, likely permanent. My entire body aches. But the weight of doom is lifted. I sense Daeva’s presence, free of that old malevolence. He’s still a demon, I’m still bound to him—but it’sourbond now, not some forced chain.

As the sun sets, painting the sky in colors I can’t see, I curl against him. My friends gather in a circle, sharing rations, relieved tears glinting in their voices. No words can express the miracle of surviving House Vaerathis. We’ll have questions, nightmares, regrets. But we’ll face them as free souls.

Gently, Daeva tilts my face up, pressing a soft kiss to my bandaged brow. The hush of twilight envelops us. My heart swells, remembering how we made love by the waterfall, the tenderness that anchored our final stand. We might be broken, but we stand together—no tyrant’s puppet strings controlling our fate.

---