Page 61 of Whisker me Away
Freya began unpacking the ritual components with hands that shook only slightly, arranging the corrupted water, poisoned soil, and blessed athame according to patterns her grandmother had taught her. Every movement felt weighted with ceremony, every breath carried the awareness that this might be their last chance to save everything they loved.
"Ready?" she asked, taking Kieran's hands as they stood within the ancient circle.
"Ready." His eyes held steady determination. "Whatever happens, I love you."
"I love you too." She began the incantation in the old tongue, her voice growing stronger as the familiar words flowed from her lips.
As the ancient words of binding filled the corrupted grove, Freya felt their combined magic rise like liquid fire, flowing between them with power that made the very air shimmer. This was it. This was their moment to either save their world or die trying.
The Thornweaver's answering roar of fury shook the twisted trees and sent shock waves through the poisoned earth, but Freya kept chanting, kept channeling power, kept believing that love could overcome any ancient evil.
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FREYA
The binding spell took hold with a surge of power that made the ancient stones ring like bells, their carved runes blazing with light as Freya's magic wove together with Kieran's protective energy. Golden threads of force spiraled around the corrupted grove, creating a shimmering barrier that pressed inward toward the Thornweaver's prison with relentless pressure.
"It's working," Kieran said through gritted teeth, his eyes blazing as his tiger's strength flowed into the spell. "I can feel the binding taking hold."
"Keep the barrier stable," Freya replied, her voice steady despite the enormous power flowing through her body. "I need to reach the original binding and weave our magic into its foundation."
But as she reached deeper into the ancient spell, probing for the threads of magic that had held the Thornweaver captive for over a century, something pushed back.
The attack came without warning, slamming into her mind with the force of a psychic sledgehammer. Suddenly she wasn'tstanding in the grove anymore but watching Hollow Oak burn while she cowered in the shadows, too weak and scared to help.
"Look at what your cowardice has wrought," her grandmother's voice whispered from all around, thick with disappointment that cut deeper than any blade. "I spent my life protecting this town, only to leave it in the hands of a granddaughter too selfish to sacrifice for others."
"That's not real," Freya gasped, fighting to maintain her concentration on the binding spell. "It's just the Thornweaver trying to break my focus."
But the visions kept coming, each one more devastating than the last.
She saw Kieran writhing in agony as corruption ate through his body, while she watched helplessly from across the grove. His dying words echoed in her mind: "Why weren't you strong enough to save me?"
She saw Maizy falling to her knees as black veins crawled up her arms, her pointed ears wilting like flower petals while her fae heritage proved useless against the Thornweaver's hunger. "You promised you'd protect us," she whispered before collapsing into dust.
She saw Twyla's café crumbling as twisted vines consumed its cheerful facade, Miriam's inn collapsing while the elderly woman's screams echoed from within, the Tansley brothers turning to ash as their knowledge and wisdom meant nothing against her failure.
"This is what happens when guardians think love is more important than duty," the Thornweaver hissed, its voice like rustling dead leaves. "This is what you've brought upon them with your weakness."
"No," Freya choked out, her magic wavering as the psychological assault intensified. "I'm not weak. I'm strong enough to protect them."
"Are you? Then why is your power failing? Why can you feel the binding spell cracking under pressure?"
The terrible truth was that she could feel it. The golden threads of force holding the barrier were beginning to fray, her magic stuttering as doubt and fear gnawed at her concentration like acid. Every vision, every whispered accusation, every image of the people she loved dying because of her inadequacy made it harder to maintain the spell.
"The guardian bloodline ends with you," her grandmother's voice continued, each word a knife to her heart. "Generations of sacrifice and service, destroyed because the last Bloom woman cared more about her own happiness than her duty."
"That's not true," Freya whispered, but her voice lacked conviction.
"You chose love over responsibility. Chose a rootless tiger over the stability Rowan offered. Chose to risk everything on emotions instead of making the practical decisions a true guardian would make."
The binding spell shuddered, its golden light flickering as Freya's resolve wavered. She could feel Kieran struggling to compensate for her faltering power, pouring more of his tiger's strength into the barrier, but it wasn't enough. The Thornweaver's psychological warfare was working exactly as intended.
"You're going to watch everyone you love die," the ancient evil whispered with malicious satisfaction. "And you'll know it's your fault for being too weak to save them."
That's when Freya's magic finally broke.
The backlash hit her like a physical blow, sending her flying across the grove to crash against one of the twisted trees with bone-jarring force. Pain exploded through her ribs and shoulder, but worse was the sight of the binding spell collapsing in a cascade of dying light.
