Classic Novel
Chapter 16
In that moment, Lyra made a decision that would haunt her for years to come. With a look of anguish, she pressed a hand to Fenris’s chest and whispered an incantation. A pulse of magical energy sent him stumbling backwards onto the narrow ledge.
“I’m sorry,” she said, tears welling in her eyes. “Find me when it’s safe. I’ll send you a sign.”
Before Fenris could respond, Lyra turned to face Morena. She raised the orb high, its pulsing energy casting strange patterns across the stone walls. “You want this so badly?” she challenged, her voice ringing with defiance. “Then come and get it!”
With that, she sprinted back the way they had come, drawing Morena and her coven away from Fenris. She could hear him calling her name, his voice filled with desperation and rage, but she forced herself not to look back.
Lyra ran through the twisting corridors of the temple, her heart pounding in her ears. She could feel Morena’s dark magic nipping at her heels, knew that she couldn’t outrun her pursuers forever. But she had one last trick up her sleeve – a desperate gambit that might just save them all.Published by Nôv'elD/rama.Org.
As she burst into the chamber where they had first encountered the puzzle box, Lyra skidded to a halt. She turned to face her pursuers, the orb held high above her head. Morena and her coven members filed into the room, their faces twisted with triumph and greed.
“Nowhere left to run, little Lyra,” Morena taunted, stalking forward with her hands outstretched. “Now, be a good girl and hand over the orb.”
Lyra’s mind raced, piecing together fragments of magical theory and half-remembered legends. The orb pulsed in her grasp, as if sensing the weight of the moment. She took a deep breath, steeling herself for what she was about to do.
“You’re right about one thing, Morena,” she said, her voice steady despite her fear. “I don’t fully understand the power of this artifact. But I do know this – it’s not meant for any one person or coven to control.”
Before anyone could react, Lyra brought the orb down hard on the pedestal where the puzzle box had rested. There was a moment of breathless silence, and then the world exploded into chaos.
A blinding light erupted from the shattered orb, filling the chamber with raw, uncontrolled magic. Lyra felt herself being lifted off her feet, buffeted by winds that howled with the voices of a thousand storms. Through the maelstrom, she caught glimpses of Morena and her coven members, their faces contorted in terror as they were swept up in the magical tempest.
As quickly as it had begun, the chaos subsided. Lyra found herself lying on the cold stone floor, her entire body aching from the magical backlash. She pushed herself up on shaking arms, blinking spots from her vision.
The chamber was in ruins, great cracks spider-webbing across the walls and ceiling. Of Morena and her coven, there was no sign – only scorch marks on the floor where they had stood. And there, in the center of it all, lay the remains of the orb.
Lyra crawled towards it, her limbs leaden with exhaustion. As she neared the pedestal, she saw that the orb hadn’t been entirely destroyed. A single shard remained, no larger than her thumb, pulsing with a faint inner light.
With trembling fingers, she picked up the shard. Immediately, she felt a connection not the overwhelming power of before, but something subtler, more controlled. Images flashed through her mind: a moonlit glade, a silver chalice, the face of a goddess long forgotten.
“The Moonstone,” she breathed, realization dawning. “It was inside the orb all along.”
A distant rumble shook the temple, reminding Lyra of the precarious situation she was in. She tucked the shard safely into a pouch at her belt and struggled to her feet. Her thoughts turned to Fenris, hoping against hope that he had found a way to safety.
As she made her way out of the chamber on unsteady legs, Lyra’s mind whirled with the implications of what had just occurred. They had obtained a piece of the Moonstone, yes, but at what cost? Morena and her coven were gone – dead or simply banished, she couldn’t be sure. And Fenris…
Guilt and worry gnawed at her as she navigated the crumbling corridors. She had sent him away to protect him, but in doing so, she might have lost the one person she had come to trust implicitly on this journey.
The temple shuddered again, more violently this time. Lyra quickened her pace, knowing she had to find a way out before the entire structure came down around her. As she rounded a corner, she saw a faint glimmer of daylight ahead – the same ledge where she had last seen Fenris.
Heart in her throat, Lyra stepped out onto the narrow path. The wind whipped at her hair and clothes, threatening to send her tumbling into the misty abyss below. She inched her way along the ledge, one hand pressed against the temple wall for support.
“Fenris!” she called out, her voice nearly lost in the howling wind. “Fenris, where are you?”
There was no response save for the lonely cry of a distant bird.