Page 116 of Crown of Light and Ashes
We ride through the night, a procession of shadow beasts carrying us across the boundary territories at supernatural speed. I lead at a punishing pace, driving my mount to its limits as I follow the thinning thread of our bond. Behind me, Emir and a dozen shadow guards maintain formation, while Banu streaks overhead, her silver light a beacon against the midnight sky.
The boundary villages pass in a blur—ramshackle buildingshuddled against the perpetual twilight, their inhabitants shrinking back at our approach. I scan faces, question terrified villagers, threaten and cajole by turns. A few remember having seen a woman matching Nesilhan's description, traveling alone on a shadow steed. Each confirmation pushes me faster, more desperate.
We are close. So close I can almost taste her unique magic on the air—sunlight and floral sweetness, with an underlying warmth I have grown addicted to. The bond pulses with her proximity, growing stronger with each mile we cover.
"North," I command, changing direction based on instinct as much as information. "Toward the old shrine."
The landscape changes as we approach the ancient holy site—twisted trees giving way to barren rock formations that jut from the ground like the spines of buried giants. The shrine itself is barely visible in the distance, a crumbling stone structure perched on the edge of a cliff that overlooks the vast expanse where shadow and light territories meet.
"Why would she come here?" Emir asks, drawing alongside me as our mounts slow to navigate the treacherous terrain.
"The boundary is thinnest at the shrine," I explain grimly. "If she wants to return to the Light Court, this would be the easiest crossing point."
We are halfway up the winding path to the shrine when it happens.
Agony.
Pure, undiluted agony tears through me with such intensity that I am thrown from my mount, crashing to the rocky ground with a force that would kill a mortal man. Dark energy explodes outward in violent, uncontrolled waves, darkness expanding in concentric circles that flatten the surrounding vegetation and send nearby wildlife fleeing in terror.
"My lord!" Emir's voice seems to come from underwater, distorted and distant beneath the roaring in my ears.
I try to respond, but only a howl of pain escapes—a sound no human throat should be capable of producing. My body convulses, back arching impossibly as liquid fire races through my veins. Every nerve ending ignites simultaneously, a symphony of torment that defies description.
Through the haze of agony, I hear Banu's panicked voice: "What is happening to him?"
"I do not know," Emir replies tensely.
Another wave of pain crashes through me, bringing momentary blindness. When my vision clears, I see the shrine courtyard erupting with shadowfire—my magic responding to my suffering, tearing stone from stone in a display of raw, uncontrolled power. The ancient columns that have stood for millennia collapse like toys, massive blocks crumbling to dust beneath the onslaught of darkness.
"We need to contain this," Emir shouts to the guards, who are struggling to maintain their positions as the very ground beneath us heaves and cracks. "Form a perimeter! Keep the shadows from spreading!"
I am barely registering their efforts, lost in the private hell of my connection to Nesilhan. Through our fragmenting bond, I feel her presence flickering, then fading, like a candle being snuffed out by an inexorable wind.
"Hold on,hatun," I gasp, though I know she cannot hear me. "Just hold on. Please, gods, just hold on."
The next wave brings blood—hot copper on my tongue as vessels burst from the strain. Around me, dark energy forms horrific, tortured shapes that reflect my suffering—twisted humanoid figures with gaping maws, clawed hands reaching toward the sky, creatures of nightmare given form through magical agony.
The sky darkens overhead, clouds forming from nothing, swirlingin a vortex above the shrine. Lightning cracks across the purplish-black expanse, striking the ancient structure repeatedly as if the heavens themselves are responding to my anguish.
"He is going to tear the entire mountain apart," I hear someone warn, the voice distant through the roaring in my ears. "The backlash could destroy everything for miles."
Their voices fade as another surge of pain demands my full attention. This one is different—deeper, more fundamental, as if the very essence of my being is being rewritten. The bond is not just weakening; it is disappearing entirely, taking pieces of me with it.
I scream her name, the sound tearing from my ravaged throat with such force that blood sprays from my lips. The shadow guards nearest to me collapse, overwhelmed by proximity to such raw magical suffering. Emir remains upright through sheer force of will, though his face has gone gray with sympathetic agony.
Then, abruptly, silence.
The pain vanishes as suddenly as it began, leaving a terrible emptiness in its wake. I lay sprawled on the shattered ground, gasping for breath, my consciousness clawing its way back from the brink of oblivion. My body feels wrong—hollow, incomplete, as if a vital organ has been removed without anesthesia.
I reach for the bond reflexively, seeking that familiar warmth that has become my anchor over the past few weeks.
Nothing.
Absolute, deafening silence where her presence should be.
"No." The word escapes as barely a whisper, my voice shredded by screams. "No, no, no..."
I stagger to my feet, ignoring Emir's outstretched hand, strength barely supporting my weight. The darkness around me hangs limply, as exhausted as their master, no longer responding to my emotions.
