Page 121 of The Moonborn's Curse

Then the other.

Blood ran in steady streams, soaking the white fabric, and spilling onto the sand of the sacred courtyard. The magic sparked beneath her feet—crimson now, tinged with gold.

She was swaying, her chant faltering. But she kept going.

In the periphery, she saw Hagan throw himself against the barrier.

It didn't give.

He was screaming. As if underwater, she felt the vibrations of him calling her name.

Seren

Seren

SEREN

And still, she chanted.

Until her knees buckled.

She pitched forward—falling outside herself. Falling into the magic. Into the silence.

The last thing she felt was the burn blooming across her wrists—sharp, searing—

—and then the world tilted.

She was falling.

Into darkness.

Into silence.

Into the abyss.

And then... nothing.

Chapter 46

Seren

There was no pain—just silence.

When Seren woke, it was to softness.

The ground beneath her felt like velvet moss, cool and oddly comforting. The air shimmered like a watercolour painting—nothing held form for long. The sky was a wash of blues and lavender, and the trees—if they could be called that—swayed gently as if painted with restless hands.

She stood.

The landscape shifted as she walked, colours bleeding and reforming with every step. Hills turned into waves. Paths rippled like silk beneath her bare feet.

And ahead—up a gentle slope—waited a single tree. Gnarled and golden, standing sentinel before a swirling veil of silver mist.

As Seren approached, the mist began to stir—not gently, but violently, like a storm trapped in a bottle.

A low, thrumming sound vibrated through the ground beneath her feet. The air thickened, pressing in around her chest. The tree's twisted branches creaked and twisted as if bowing in anticipation.

The veil of mist before her rippled.

---