Page 123 of At the Mercy of Midnight
They stepped forwards, climbing carefully down the mound of ruined earth and into the crater, until they were surrounded by the magical energy, until it twisted and writhed around their ankles.
Magic surged.
It felt ancient, angry.
The world around them shifted.
Darkness descended, not the black of night, but a dense, overwhelming void, filled with the sound of rushing wind. Amelia felt the air trap in her throat as a primal fear gripped her. She could hear them.
Their cries, whispers. Pleas for help, for escape.
Shapes formed in the space between heartbeats.
Wind whistled around them, pushing her hair across her face, tickling at her skin. And then a vision appeared before them.
They stood in the centre of a small township, surrounded by buildings.
And there they were.
Two figures racing down the road, towards where the crater now lay. The female had hair like flame that streamed out behind her, the male with dark hair and a darker expression, his black cloak flapping like wings. Their hands were joined, their expressions grim and determined under the white glow of the full moon above them.
The woman cried out and stalled in the middle of the road, falling to one knee, her face contorting in agony.
“Lyana!” The male fell before her, grasping either side of her face, tilting her head up. They looked at each other with expressions of grave terror.
“We’re out of time, Bane.”
Bane’s head shook. “We aren’t far, we can make it to the Rift.”
Lyana made another noise of pain, doubling over. “No,” she gasped out. “It’s now or never. It’s calling us. We don’t have long.”
“But, this town,” Bane said hurriedly, “these people—”
“Will all die if we fail,” Lyana insisted.
Bane let out a breath, a rough curse word, and then nodded. He grabbed Lyana under the arms and dragged her to her feet. They faced each other in the middle of the street.
Amelia watched, her heart hammering. The pair were likethem. Two souls tethered, drawn together by fate.
“They’re starting the ritual,” Silas said softly. Amelia felt his hand clamp tighter around hers as they looked at the pair before them, as they saw a glimpse of their own future.
The vision rippled. The figures began chanting, magic pouring from their bodies into the land, their arms shaking with the force of the power rippling out from them. For a moment, it seemed to work. Cracks in the air itself began to seal, the world repairing.
But something shifted.
The man was looking at Lyana, a love so clear and profound etched on his every feature.
And Amelia saw it.
A split second of hesitation, of second thought.
A pulse of dark purple magic flared wild and bright. The pair broke apart, staggering back, emitting matching sounds of pain. The bond between them was visible to Amelia, a blazing line of light connecting them, and she watched in horror as it shuddered, and then snapped. The woman’s cry echoed with agony beyond physical comprehension. The man collapsed, and with him, the ritual collapsed too. A violent burst ofmagic erupted outwards, ripping through the village like a star imploding, taking Lyana and Bane with it.
Just like that, they were gone. Vicious images slammed into her brain.
The Monoliths, glowing, their differing exteriors vibrating as though shrieking with their own form of pain.
The Rift, growing exponentially, slowly taking over.
