Seraphine’s Trap
The forest erupted into chaos as the first soldier lunged, their blade gleaming with an unnatural light. Adrian moved instinctively, intercepting the attack with his own sword, the clash of steel ringing out like a warning bell. Sparks flew as their weapons locked, and Adrian pushed back with a snarl, his crimson eyes burning with intensity.
“Stay close to me!” Adrian shouted over his shoulder, his voice commanding but tinged with urgency.
Eryon growled, fully shifting into his wolf form as his claws tore into the earth. His amber eyes glinted with raw fury as he launched himself at another soldier, the force of his attack sending them sprawling. The metallic tang of blood filled the air as Eryon’s claws met flesh, his movements swift and brutal.
Misery was already in motion, her blade a blur as she weaved between the attackers with lethal precision. “They’re not just here for a chat!” she barked, her tone sharp. “Lyra, if you’ve got any tricks up your sleeve, now would be the time!”
Lyra stood frozen, the artifact’s whispers drowning out the noise around her. The pulsing energy in her hands felt like it was burning her from the inside out, demanding release. Her breath quickened as her vision blurred, the conflicting voices in her mind battling for dominance.
“Lyra!” Misery’s voice cut through the haze, snapping her back to reality. Lyra’s silver eyes locked onto Misery’s, the clarity in her expression grounding her for a fleeting moment.
The artifact flared in her hands, the whispers crescendoing into a single, overwhelming command: Fight.
The soldier closest to her lunged, their blade aimed directly at her heart. Instinctively, Lyra raised the artifact, and a pulse of crimson energy exploded outward, throwing the attacker back into a tree with a sickening thud. The clearing fell silent for a heartbeat as everyone froze, the raw power emanating from Lyra sending a chill through allies and enemies alike.
Eryon turned, his wolf form dripping with blood, his amber eyes wide with a mixture of awe and concern. “Lyra, what was that?” he growled, his voice low and rough.
Adrian dispatched another soldier with a swift, precise strike before spinning to face her. “Are you okay?” he asked, his voice steady but laced with worry.
Lyra’s chest heaved as she struggled to steady herself, the artifact’s whispers retreating into a dull hum. “I—” she began, but the words caught in her throat.
Before she could finish, more soldiers emerged from the trees, their movements relentless and synchronized. Seraphine’s magic burned in their glowing eyes, and their weapons glinted with an otherworldly sheen.
Misery spat a curse, stepping back to regroup. “This isn’t going to end well if we stay here,” she said, her blade raised defensively. “We need a plan—now.”
Adrian nodded, his eyes scanning their surroundings for an escape route. “We can’t take them all head-on,” he said grimly. “Lyra, can you do that again?”
Lyra hesitated, her grip tightening on the artifact. The power she had unleashed felt uncontrollable, a double-edged sword that might just as easily harm her allies as it would her enemies. But the whispers urged her forward, promising strength, promising victory.
“I don’t know if I can control it,” she admitted, her voice trembling.
Eryon stepped beside her, his wolf form towering but steady. “Then don’t control it. Just use it.”
Another soldier lunged, and Lyra closed her eyes, letting the artifact’s energy flow through her once more.
