Chapter 7: Threads of Betrayal
The wind outside howled as Lyra and Kael returned to the inn. The scene she'd witnessed in the chapel haunted her, the image of Oran her Oran standing among the robed figures refusing to fade.
Kael tossed another log into the fireplace, the flames crackling to life and casting flickering shadows across the room. "You look like you've seen a ghost," he said, leaning against the mantel.
Lyra shot him a glare. "Maybe I have."
Kael crossed his arms, his eyes narrowing. "You're not telling me everything, are you?"
"And you are?" she snapped, the tension in her chest boiling over. "You've been keeping things from me since the moment we met. If we're going to break this curse, I need to know the truth, Kael. About you. About this place. About why my mentor" She paused, her voice faltering. "Why Oran was part of whatever happened here."
Kael's jaw tightened, and for a moment, Lyra thought he might walk away. But then he sighed, running a hand through his dark hair. "Fine. You want the truth? Whisperwood isn't just cursed it's a prison. And I've been trapped here for longer than I care to remember."
Lyra blinked, her anger giving way to confusion. "Trapped?"
Kael nodded, his expression grim. "The curse doesn't just keep people out it keeps people in. The longer you stay, the harder it is to leave. The town... it gets inside you. Twists your memories. Your mind. I've seen people lose themselves entirely, forgetting who they are, what they came here for."
Lyra frowned, her fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "Then how do you still know who you are?"
Kael smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Because I made a deal with the shadows."
The room seemed to grow colder at his words, the firelight dimming as if the shadows themselves were listening.
"What kind of deal?" Lyra asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
Kael's gaze darkened. "The kind that keeps you alive but takes pieces of you in return. I don't know how much of me is still... me. But I know enough to remember why I'm here."
"And why is that?"
Kael hesitated, then looked her straight in the eye. "To stop people like you from making the same mistakes."
Lyra stared at him, the weight of his words sinking in. But before she could respond, a faint sound reached her ears a soft, rhythmic tapping.
Both she and Kael turned toward the window. Outside, the mist swirled like a living thing, and the tapping grew louder, closer.
Kael drew his blade, his movements swift and precise. "Stay behind me," he said.
"I can handle myself," Lyra retorted, unsheathing her dagger.
The tapping turned into a sharp, scraping noise, and then the window shattered, shards of glass spraying across the room. A figure loomed in the opening, its body distorted and shrouded in darkness.
The creature stepped inside, its form shifting unnaturally, as if it couldn't decide what shape to take. Its eyes burned with an eerie green light, and its voice was a chorus of whispers.
"Blood binds the curse. Blood must break it."
Lyra felt the words vibrate through her bones, the same phrase she'd read in the book and seen in her vision.
Kael lunged at the creature, his blade cutting through its shadowy form, but it only reformed, its laughter echoing in the room.
"Lyra!" Kael shouted. "The medallion use it!"
Without thinking, Lyra grabbed the medallion from her belt and held it out. The symbols on its surface flared to life, casting a brilliant light that pierced through the creature's shadow.
The creature screamed, its form unraveling like smoke in the wind. Within moments, it was gone, leaving behind only the sound of Lyra's ragged breathing.
Kael lowered his blade, his expression grim. "That was just the beginning," he said.
Lyra tightened her grip on the medallion, her resolve hardening. "Good. I'm not done either."
As the night wore on, Lyra found herself staring into the fire, her thoughts racing. Kael's revelations had raised more questions than answers, and the encounter with the creature had left her shaken—but also more determined than ever.
Her mind drifted back to Oran, to the lessons he'd drilled into her during their years together.
"Never trust what you can't see," he'd said once, after they'd been ambushed by thieves hidden in the underbrush. "And never let fear make you blind to the dangers in front of you."
But what if the danger wasn't in front of her? What if it was behind her, buried in the shadows of her own past?
Lyra clenched her fists. She needed answers—not just about the curse, but about Oran. About why he'd been part of the ritual, and what he'd been so afraid of.
Kael's voice pulled her from her thoughts. "You're thinking about him, aren't you? Your mentor."
Lyra glanced at him, surprised by the softness in his tone. "How do you know?"
"Because I've been where you are," Kael said, sitting across from her. "Chasing ghosts. Looking for answers you might not want to find."
Lyra met his gaze, her expression hard. "I don't have a choice. Oran taught me to face the truth, no matter how hard it is. And I owe it to him to find out what really happened."
Kael studied her for a moment, then nodded. "Then we'll keep going. But be careful, Lyra. Sometimes the truth is the heaviest burden of all."