Chapter 5 5

The clash of steel and shadow tore through the night. Aldric moved like a force of nature, his blade slicing through the darkness as the beast lunged again. Soldiers surrounded the creature, but its movements were too fast, too unnatural. Lyra could feel the pull of dark magic emanating from its form, an oppressive weight that made her head spin.

Her instincts screamed for her to run, but her feet refused to move. She couldn't leave-not when the source of the poison might lie within this monstrous creature. Her hands tightened around the small satchel of herbs and vials she always carried. She didn't know what she could do against something so powerful, but she had to try.

A soldier's cry snapped her attention back to the battle. The beast's claws tore through armor like paper, sending the man crumpling to the ground. Aldric roared in anger, driving his blade into the creature's side. A guttural howl erupted from the beast, its glowing eyes locking onto the King with deadly intent.

Lyra's mind raced. The dark residue from the tracks-could it be the source of its strength? She knelt quickly, scooping a small sample of the substance into a vial. The energy pulsing from it made her fingers tingle, and she corked it quickly, her heart pounding.

Another soldier fell, his shield shattered beneath the weight of the beast's claws. The remaining guards faltered, their fear palpable. Aldric barked orders, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "Hold the line! It cannot breach the gate!"

The beast lunged again, its claws aimed directly at Aldric. He dodged, his movements impossibly fast, and slashed at its throat. Black ichor sprayed from the wound, hissing as it hit the ground. The creature staggered but didn't fall, its glowing eyes burning brighter.

Lyra's hand tightened around the satchel at her hip. She couldn't stand by any longer. Without giving herself time to doubt, she grabbed a small vial of powdered silver-a potent substance she often used in her healing remedies.

"King Aldric!" she called, her voice cutting through the chaos.

Aldric glanced back at her, his golden eyes sharp. "What are you doing? Get back!"

"I have an idea!" she shouted, tossing the vial toward him. He caught it easily, his expression skeptical.

"What is this?"

"Silver powder," she explained quickly. "It might disrupt the magic binding it."

Aldric didn't hesitate. He uncorked the vial with his teeth and threw the powder directly at the beast's glowing eyes. The effect was immediate. The creature let out a deafening roar, its movements faltering as the silver burned through the dark magic surrounding it.

"Now!" Aldric shouted, his voice echoing across the battlefield.

The soldiers surged forward, their swords biting into the creature's vulnerable form. Aldric delivered the final blow, driving his blade deep into its chest. The beast let out one final, bone-chilling cry before collapsing into a lifeless heap.

The courtyard fell silent, save for the labored breathing of the soldiers and the faint crackle of magic dissipating from the beast's body. Lyra stepped forward cautiously, her gaze locked on the creature's still form.

"This isn't just a shadow beast," she murmured, more to herself than anyone else. "It's something else entirely."

Aldric turned to her, his expression grim. "What do you mean?"

Lyra knelt beside the creature, her fingers brushing against the dark ichor seeping from its wounds. It pulsed faintly with the same energy she had felt in the poison. "The magic-it's the same as the poison. This creature isn't just attacking; it's a carrier."

Aldric's jaw tightened. "Then we've only seen the beginning."

The weight of his words settled over them like a shroud. Lyra stood, wiping her hands on a cloth. "We need to analyze this further. If we can understand how the poison spreads through these creatures, we might find a way to stop it."

Aldric nodded, his expression unreadable. "You'll have access to whatever you need. But be careful-if the witches know we're onto them, they'll strike again."

The soldiers began to clear the battlefield, their movements subdued. Lyra followed Aldric back into the fortress, her mind racing with possibilities. The pieces of the puzzle were starting to come together, but the picture they formed was more terrifying than she had imagined.

Hours later, Lyra found herself in the apothecary, the vial of dark residue sitting on the table before her. She had examined it under every light, tested it against every reagent she had, but its secrets remained locked away. The magic binding it was unlike anything she had encountered before.

Her frustration mounted. She was running out of time, and Darien's condition was worsening by the hour. She needed help-someone who understood the nature of this magic better than she did.

The memory of the hooded man in the hidden chamber resurfaced. He had known more than he let on. If anyone could provide answers, it was him.

Lyra left the apothecary, her steps quick and purposeful. The hidden chamber was quiet when she arrived, its shadows pressing in around her. She half-expected the man to appear from the darkness, but the room was empty.

Frustration burned in her chest. She didn't have time to wait for him. She began searching the shelves, her fingers skimming over ancient tomes and scrolls. The texts were written in a language she didn't recognize, their meanings hidden beneath layers of arcane symbols.

A soft sound behind her made her spin, her heart leaping to her throat. The hooded man stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"You're persistent," he said, stepping into the room.

"You're late," Lyra replied, crossing her arms. "I need answers."

The man sighed, pulling back his hood to reveal his sharp features. "You're playing a dangerous game, healer."

"I don't care," she shot back. "The poison, the shadow beast-it's all connected. If you know something that can help, tell me."

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to the vial in her hand. "The witches' magic is old and powerful," he said finally. "It's not something you can fight with swords or potions. If you want to stop them, you'll need to understand their rituals."

"Then teach me," Lyra demanded.

The man's expression darkened. "Once you step into their world, there's no turning back."

"I don't have a choice," she said firmly. "If I don't, Darien will die-and so will countless others."

For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a reluctant nod, he gestured for her to follow.

"The answers you seek are in the shadows," he said, his voice low. "But be warned-some truths are more dangerous than lies."

Lyra's determination didn't waver. She had come too far to turn back now. Whatever secrets the witches held, she would uncover them.

Even if it meant walking into the darkness herself.