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Chapter 12: A Flame in the Gathering Dark

  Elise stood quietly at the foot of a familiar home along the quieter paths of the southwestern quarter. Modest, well-kept, and quiet. She raised a hand to knock.

  But the door opened before her knuckles met the wood.

  Linda stood there, expectant. Their eyes met—neither surprised, neither needing to ask why. There was something unspoken between them, as if last night’s shadow had reached them both in different ways.

  Linda stepped aside.

  “Come in.”

  Sivil nodded, stepping into the house. The morning light followed her briefly before the door closed behind. The home was still. A soft breeze filtered through the windows. They made their way to the small seating area, a humble space where cushions were arranged near the hearth and a low wooden table sat between them. It wasn’t lavish, but it was warm, lived-in, and peaceful.

  Sivil settled across from her, her cloak resting over her arm. “How is Luna?”

  Linda glanced toward the stairway, where faint creaks hinted at movement above.

  “She’s in her room,” she replied with a soft smile. “She’s awake. Preparing for the day.”

  There was a pause. Then, her tone changed—quiet, but edged.

  “But I know why you’re here.”

  Sivil said nothing.

  Linda leaned forward, hands clasped loosely. “I saw it. Just before dawn. A winged creature. Scarlet and black. There was a glow around it… crimson, faint but unmistakable.”

  Sivil’s gaze sharpened.

  “No one noticed,” Linda continued. “Not the nightwatch. Not the patrol guards. But I felt it. It entered the town—quiet as a shadow. Landed on the western tower.”

  Sivil didn’t interrupt. Her face remained calm, but her eyes told another story.

  “It looked down,” Linda added, softer now. “As if it were searching for something. And then it saw me.”

  A pause. Then she continued. “Golden eyes. Burning in the dark.”

  Her brows furrowed. “It was trying to see through me.”

  “It didn’t move after. Just… watched. And then it vanished into the north.”

  Sivil leaned back slightly, her hand resting on her lap. For a moment, she glanced toward the window beside her, where sunlight spilled across the floor in warm, steady beams. The shadows were already gone—but the weight in the room remained.

  “I felt it too,” she said.

  Sivil lowered her gaze for a moment, fingers lightly brushing the fabric of her cloak.

  “Last night,” she began, “I went south—along the northern edge of the forest.”

  Linda said nothing, only watched her closely.

  “It was strange,” Sivil continued. “Too quiet. Even the insects had gone silent. Then I felt it—a dark presence, strong and cold. It moved along the forest’s outer edge, near the water, gliding just above the treetops. I couldn’t see it clearly—but it didn’t move like any bird or beast. It was weightless. Unnatural.”

  She paused, then looked at her.

  “There was another,” she added. “Farther south. Deeper in the woods. It didn’t move. It didn’t hide. It was simply there—waiting.”

  Linda’s brows drew together slightly, the lines of concern deepening across her face.

  “Not long after,” she said, her voice low, “deep in the night, just I returned home…”

  Sivil reached into the folds of her cloak and carefully pulled out two scraps of cloth—worn, stained, and bound with traces of dried blood. She set them gently on the wooden table between them.

  “A knight and two guards came knocking at my door.”

  Linda’s gaze fell on the cloths. She didn’t speak. She didn’t need to.

  “They asked for my help,” Sivil continued. “Their camp wasn’t far—just beyond the southern ridge. Two were gravely wounded.”

  Her tone stayed calm, but there was something beneath it. A quiet pull of something older.

  “I went with them. There was no time to hesitate. We rode through the dark.”

  She paused, eyes narrowing slightly.

  “They spoke of it—the winged creature. Said it passed over their camp in the dead of night. Scarlet and black wings, a crimson glow. It didn’t attack… just flew north.”

  She looked at Linda. “It must be the same one you saw.”

  Linda didn’t answer. Instead, she reached out, her fingers brushing the first scrap—the one soaked deeper in blood.

  The moment her skin touched the fabric, something shifted in the air. A flicker. A hush. The room fell away for a breath, and in its place came images—raw, tangled fragments of memory not her own.

  She saw the caravan. The crash. Derren, gripping the reins as something swept overhead—too fast, too sudden. The air shifted, a gust howling in its wake as wings cut across the sky. The creature tore through the air like a shadow with weight, scattering the horses and overturning the wagon. Blood. Screams. A moment of stillness before the chaos swallowed everything.

  And in that moment, Linda understood.

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  It wasn’t the same creature. Not the one she had seen from the tower.

  That one had watched. This one had struck.

  Her hand moved to the second cloth. Another breath held.

  The vision came—shadowed, but not like before. The night was thick over the plains. Four distorted forms, twisted and gaunt, crawled along the wreckage, hungry and wild. They struck fast—feral and shadow-born. Their eyes glowing faint red, pulsing like old embers refusing to die. But the dread they carried was smaller, more familiar. Not like the creature from the sky. Fragments of a deeper corruption.

  A trace of the Red Witch.

  Linda’s hand withdrew slowly.

  Sivil waited.

  “They were different,” Linda said softly. “The one that attacked the caravan… that wasn’t the same as what entered the town.”

  Sivil nodded once. “No. But they’re connected. I can feel it—something old still lingering.”

  The silence between Linda and Sivil held a weight neither needed to explain. The air felt thick—heavy with knowing. No words passed between them, yet both knew the gravity of what stirred beyond the walls of this quiet home.

  Then—like a thread of sunlight slipping through a cloud—the stillness broke.

  Footsteps rushed down the stairs, quick and light. Luna appeared at the landing, clutching her wooden staff as she descended with bright eyes.

  “Elise!” she exclaimed, her voice lifting the room. “You’re here!”

  Both Linda and Elise turned to her, heaviness in their eyes softening into smiles.

  Elise’s tired expression lifted and smiled. “Good morning, dear. How are you?”

  Luna stepped forward, staff still in hand. “I’m alright, but you—you're here!”

  She leaned her staff in the corner near the hearth and lowered herself onto the cushions beside Elise, her energy shifting from excitement to warmth.

  “I was actually planning to see you today,” she added, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear.

  Elise let out a soft laugh, her eyes crinkling with affection despite the fatigue in them. “You were going to see me? Or were you planning to run off on another one of your little adventures… and then see me?”

  Luna grinned, playful. “That and that.”

  They both laughed—light, easy laughter that warmed the room like sunlight through a window.

  Linda stood then, shaking her head fondly as she made her way to the kitchen. “I’ll get something for you both. You’ve earned it, I think.”

  As she stepped away, Elise stifled a yawn behind her hand.

  Luna leaned in slightly, concern flashing briefly in her eyes. “What’s wrong? You look tired.”

  “She hasn’t slept yet,” Linda’s voice called from the kitchen. Moments later, she returned carrying a small tray—steamed bread, dried fruit, and warm tea poured into smooth clay cups with etched rims. She placed it gently on the table.

  Luna’s gaze dropped to the table—then caught on the two bloodstained scraps of cloth resting there. Her expression shifted.

  Her smile faded, not out of fear, but understanding. Her fingers hovered near them but didn’t touch.

  “What are those?” she asked softly.

  Linda exchanged a glance with Elise, then sat beside Luna and placed a gentle hand over hers. Her voice remained calm, but her tone turned somber.

  “There was trouble during the night,” she said. “Two were injured. Elise was with them. She helped.”

  Luna’s eyes flicked to Elise, then to the cloth, then back. She didn’t speak right away, but her expression said enough.

  “You were there,” she whispered.

  “I was,” Elise replied, her voice soft.

  She understood—this wasn’t over. And whatever had come in the dark… was only the beginning.

  As they settled in with warm tea in hand and soft bread between them, Linda spoke. Her voice was calm, her words measured, but there was no hiding the truth that lay beneath each sentence. She told Luna everything—how a knight and two guards had come to her door, how Elise rode to a nearby camp in the middle of the night. She explained the attack on the caravan south of Karmine, how the creature with scarlet and black wings had passed over the camp and vanished northward. She spoke of the lingering presence of the remnants of the Red Witch, the fiends still roaming the southern plains. All of it. She left nothing out.

  Luna listened in silence, her expression turning thoughtful, hands resting gently around her tea cup. Elise watched her quietly, observing the way her brows pulled together, the way her focus deepened—not out of fear, but understanding.

  Then Elise spoke, gently. “You must be careful, Luna. Always. Things are shifting… and you’re not a child anymore.”

  Luna nodded slowly, her eyes on the table. She set her tea down, the cup resting gently beside her hand as she traced its edge with her fingers. Then, with a breath, she leaned back and looked between them.

  “So that’s what the commotion was all about yesterday,” she murmured. “The guards assembling in the square, everyone whispering about an attack… and a caravan that returned alone.”

  Luna brightened a little. “I heard it all while I was out with Emily and Chester. Tara was with us too, and then we heard all the murmuring. Some said it was beasts, others said something worse. Chester thought it was just bandits.” She grinned. “Of course, he was wrong.”

  She paused, then brightened slightly.

  “We had lunch at this inn. Chester took us there. It was beautiful and looks expensive. It was packed, we sat at the middle table. Still, it was nice. We were eating and talking… it was fun”

  Her smile widened, her eyes lighting up as she spoke.

  “Then these two guys tried to ruin our day. They started throwing words at us from the next table. Ugh, the arrogance. You’d think they owned the inn.”

  Elise listening and watching Luna, amused. “They did?”

  “This Nico guy, tried to show off by casting an ignite spell” She mimicked a dramatic hand gesture, fingers curled like claws. “Except it fizzled quickly like a dying candle.”

  Elise raised an amused brow, while Linda remained quiet, sipping her tea with a small knowing smile.

  Luna leaned in, lowering her voice like a conspirator sharing a secret. “So… I may have helped fate along a little.”

  “You didn’t,” Elise said, her tone teasing but gently curious.

  Luna nodded, holding back a giggle. “Just a tiny shock. Barely a flicker. You should’ve seen his face.”

  Elise let out a soft, tired laugh, eyes glinting. “And no one saw you?”

  “Nope. Not even Chester. He was too busy getting ready to punch someone. Emily stopped him before it got worse.”

  Linda set down her cup and gave her daughter a long, measured look. Not scolding—just amused in that motherly way that said I already know everything but I’ll let you have your moment.

  Luna launched into the story with full energy—gesturing with her hands, her eyes alight as she recounted every detail of the scene at the inn. Her words spilled out between bites of bread and sips of tea, the tension of the day melting away in her retelling. Even the sharp moments, the confrontation, and the troublemakers were colored by her enthusiasm.

  Linda reached over, brushing a strand of Luna’s hair behind her ear. “And yet you still managed to enjoy your meal,” she said softly.

  Luna gave a small shrug. “Well… after that, everything tasted better.”

  Elise leaned slightly toward her, the edge of her smile still lingering. Her voice, when it came, was low—almost tender.

  “Luna, do you remember what I told you?” she said. “About your gift. That it isn’t just something to wield when it’s easy... or when it feels right in the moment.”

  Luna’s smile faded into something quieter—attentive, thoughtful.

  Elise continued, her gaze steady. “You have something rare. Power, yes—but more than that, a heart that wants to do good. That makes you different. But that also makes you responsible.”

  Luna nodded slowly, her brows drawing together—not out of resistance, but reflection. She didn’t look away.

  Elise reached for her cup, letting the warmth settle into her hands. “You handled it well,” she added, a flicker of humor returning to her tone. “Swift, quiet, and no one got hurt—except for his pride, maybe.” small smile curved her lips, soft with approval.

  Luna cracked a grin. “You saw that?”

  “I can imagine it clearly,” Elise said, with a knowing glance. “But next time… remember that even a spark, placed wrong, can burn more than you meant to.”

  “I know,” Luna murmured, then straightened slightly, her tone growing steadier. “And I’ll do better next time.”

  There was no heaviness in her voice—only clarity. Resolve.

  Elise simply watched her. Quiet, but full of warmth. Her fingers curled lightly around her tea, and her shoulders—once weighed down with fatigue—seemed lighter now. She looked at Luna for a moment, her smile lingering.

  Look how you’ve grown, she thought, her gaze soft.

  Still full of fire… but learning where to place it.

  The room, though small, felt full—with warmth, with stories, and with the presence of something far rarer than safety.

  Hope.

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