Chapter 5 THE TEST OF THE FRACTURES

The wind howled around the ancient shrine on Harrow's Hill as Clara stood by the stone altar, the glowing orb casting a radiant blue light that pulsed like a heartbeat. The shadowy creatures-the Echoes of the Broken-had reached the shrine, their watery forms slithering through the entrance, their glowing eyes locked on her. The air crackled with their presence, a suffocating weight of fear and malice that pressed against Clara's chest. She could feel the fractures they embodied, the pain and chaos of Eldermoor's past seeping into the present.

The orb's light flared brighter, and Lila's voice echoed in Clara's mind once more: *"They will test you."* Clara clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. She didn't know what that meant, but she knew she couldn't let these creatures take the echo. It was the key to saving Eldermoor-she felt that truth in her bones. The first creature lunged, its form shifting into a jagged, claw-like appendage that slashed toward her. Clara dove to the side, her shoulder slamming against the stone wall of the shrine. The orb wobbled on the altar but didn't fall, its light steady despite the chaos. The creature's claw grazed the altar, leaving deep scratches in the stone, and Clara's heart raced as she scrambled to her feet. She had no weapons, no plan-just the orb and the whispers that urged her to fight. Another creature advanced, its glowing eyes narrowing as it let out a guttural growl that seemed to pull at her deepest fears. Suddenly, the air around Clara shimmered, and the shrine faded away, replaced by a vision so vivid it felt real. She was standing in the middle of Eldermoor, but the village was in ruins-flames licked at the houses, the river had swallowed the streets, and the screams of the villagers filled the air. Clara's chest tightened as she saw Thom, his small body crumpled in the mud, his slingshot broken beside him. Mrs. Tully's bakery was a pile of ash, and the oak tree in the square was split in two, its branches burning. "No," Clara whispered, her voice trembling. She took a step forward, reaching for Thom, but the vision shifted again. Now she saw herself, standing alone in the square, the egg in her hands-but it wasn't glowing. It was black, cracked, and lifeless, and the villagers were pointing at her, their faces twisted with blame. "You failed us," they chanted, their voices a chorus of accusation. "You let the fractures win." Clara staggered back, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps. The vision felt so real-the heat of the flames, the weight of their words. She could feel her resolve crumbling, the fear taking hold. But then, through the haze of the vision, she heard the orb's whispers again: *Courage.* The word cut through the fear like a blade, and Clara blinked, forcing herself to focus. This wasn't real. It was the fractures-they were feeding on her fear, just as Lila had warned. She turned back to the altar, where the orb still glowed, its light a beacon in the darkness of the vision. The creatures were circling closer, their forms more solid now, their claws scraping against the stone floor. Clara's hands shook as she reached for the orb, her fingers brushing its warm surface. The moment she touched it, the vision shattered, and she was back in the shrine, the burning village replaced by the stormy reality of Harrow's Hill. The creatures hissed, their movements growing more aggressive. They knew she'd broken their illusion. Clara tightened her grip on the orb, its light pulsing in time with her heartbeat. "I'm not afraid of you," she said, her voice steadying. "You're just echoes. You don't get to decide Eldermoor's future." The largest of the creatures reared back, its form swelling as it let out a deafening roar. The sound shook the shrine, sending cracks spiderwebbing across the stone walls. Clara braced herself, the orb's light flaring brighter than ever. She didn't know how to use it, but she felt its power coursing through her, a strength that wasn't entirely her own. It was Lila's strength, and the strength of every chosen one before her, carried through the echo. The creature lunged, its claws aimed for the orb, but Clara didn't flinch. She held the orb out in front of her, and a beam of blue light shot from it, striking the creature in the chest. It screamed, its form dissolving into a puddle of dark water that seeped into the ground. The other two creatures hesitated, their glowing eyes flickering with uncertainty. Clara took a step forward, the orb's light steady in her hands. "Leave," she commanded, her voice echoing with a power she didn't fully understand. "This village isn't yours to destroy." The creatures growled, but they didn't advance. The orb's light grew brighter, its whispers now a chorus of voices, all speaking as one: *Seal the fractures.* Clara's eyes darted to the altar, where the symbols were glowing faintly, reacting to the orb's presence. She knelt, placing the orb in the center of the altar, and the symbols flared to life, their light merging with the orb's. The ground beneath the shrine trembled, but this time it felt different-not destructive, but restorative. A soft hum filled the air, and the cracks in the shrine's walls began to mend, the stone knitting itself back together. The creatures let out a final, anguished howl before their forms collapsed, dissolving into the ground like the first. The storm outside began to dissipate, the gray clouds parting to reveal a sliver of moonlight. Clara exhaled, her knees buckling as the tension drained from her body. The orb's light dimmed, its surface still and smooth once more. The whispers were gone, replaced by a profound silence that felt like peace. She'd done it-she'd faced the fractures and sealed them, at least for now. But as she stood, a faint sound caught her attention-a soft *tap*, like the one she'd heard that morning in her kitchen. She looked down at the orb, her heart sinking as a tiny crack appeared on its surface. The fractures might be sealed, but the echo wasn't finished with her yet. From the base of the hill, she heard Harrow's voice calling her name, his tone a mix of relief and urgency. Clara picked up the orb, its warmth a reminder of the battle she'd just fought-and the battles still to come. She stepped out of the shrine, ready to face whatever lay ahead.