CHAPTER SIX – The Shadow Between Worlds
The night was quiet, but not dead.
Elara woke to the sound of the river, its flow unnaturally still beneath the blood-red moon. Her body ached from the blast, every nerve humming as if her veins remembered the magic before her mind did.
"Kael…" she whispered.
Only silence answered.
Her hand brushed against cold stone where he had fallen, but the place was empty now, no trace of shadow, no whisper of presence. The mark on her wrist still burned faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat trapped beneath her skin.
He was gone.
Her breath hitched, the weight of that truth crushing against her ribs. "No… not like this."
The forest around her seemed to listen, the air heavy with grief. Even the moonlight had turned dull, bleeding through the mist like dying fire.
Then, faintly, a voice echoed through her mind. Not spoken, remembered.
"If you burn, I burn."
Tears stung her eyes. She clenched her wrist until her nails cut her skin. "Then burn with me, Kael," she whispered. "Because I'm not letting you go."
She rose unsteadily, every muscle trembling. Around her, the forest lay in ruin, branches blackened, earth scorched, the air thick with the residue of blood magic. Yet in the ashes, she felt something new — a pull, deep and ancient, drawing her toward the east.
The bond.
It hadn't broken.
It had shifted.
She followed the pull through the mist, her boots sinking into mud as whispers trailed after her, faint voices of the dead witches she had commanded beneath the earth.
"Blood of the Moon… the gate is open…"
"He waits where shadows drink the light…"
Her heart pounded. "Then I'll find him," she murmured, and pressed forward.
Far from her, beyond the mortal plane, Kael opened his eyes to darkness.
But not the kind that blinded, the kind that saw everything.
He stood in a place made of memory and shadow, where every breath echoed with screams swallowed by time. The ground was glass, reflecting not his face but every life he had taken. The souls of the fallen soldiers stared up at him, men, witches, monsters, each one whispering his name like a curse.
"Kael of the Veil."
"The traitor knight."
"The shadow-bound fool."
He clutched his chest, feeling the pulse of the bond even here, faint, but alive. "Elara…"
Her name steadied him, a thread of light in the black. But even that light trembled.
From the far distance came the sound of chains dragging across stone. Then, a voice, deep, smooth, and terrible.
"Still clinging to her, are you?"
Kael turned. From the shifting dark emerged a figure, tall, crowned with horns of smoke, its form woven from endless shadow. Eyes burned where its face should be, white and cold as moons.
Kael drew his blade, or tried to. But his hand passed through it. The weapon wasn't real here.
The entity chuckled. "You forget where you stand, knight. This is my realm — the prison you made when you bound me to the Blood Moon covenant."
Kael's voice was low. "Veyra."
The name shivered through the air.
The Shadow Lord smiled wider. "So you remember."
Veyra, the fallen god the witches had once worshipped. The same being Kael had betrayed centuries ago when he took the Church's deal to destroy the coven.
"You killed for them," Veyra said softly.
"Burned temples, broke vows, and still thought redemption would come. And when they betrayed you, what did you do? You bound me, a god, inside your curse. Now look at you, a shade in love with the blood of the last witch."
Kael gritted his teeth. "You can mock me all you want. But I'll never let you touch her."
Veyra's laugh was like knives scraping glass.
"Oh, Kael. You already have. The moment you touched her hand, the bond awoke the covenant you sealed with me. Her blood feeds my return."
Kael froze. "What?"
"Did you think your punishment was to serve her forever? No. You were meant to love her, so when the bond breaks, your soul will tear free, and mine will rise in your place."
Kael's stomach turned cold. The spirit's words hit too deep, too true.
"You're lying."
"Am I?" Veyra's eyes gleamed. "Tell me, has the shadow moved on its own lately? Has it struck when you didn't command it?"
Kael remembered, the moment by the river, when his shadow fought as if possessed.
"Good," Veyra purred. "You feel it now, don't you? The hunger beneath your skin. That's me, Kael. My power bleeding through your love."
Kael staggered back. The dark around him pulsed like a heartbeat.
"No… I won't let you take her."
"Then kill her before you fall," the shadow whispered. "End her life, and maybe, maybe you'll stay human long enough to die a man."
The words twisted like poison.
Kael dropped to his knees, the darkness clawing at his mind. And through the rising storm of whispers, he heard her voice faintly, calling from afar "Kael… please come back…"
He gritted his teeth. "I will. I swear it."
Veyra smiled like a god who had already won.
Elara's journey took her to the ruins of an old shrine, one of the last places untouched by the Church. The moon bathed it in red light, and at the center stood an altar carved with ancient runes.
She could feel Kael's presence strongest here, faint, flickering, but real.
She placed her hand on the stone. "Show me where he is."
The mark on her wrist ignited. Blood welled from her palm, dripping into the carvings. The runes blazed to life, swirling in a crimson pattern that lifted into the air.
A whisper filled her mind, Kael's voice, faint and broken.
"Elara… don't come for me…"
Her breath hitched. "You know I will."
"You don't understand, if you break the veil, he'll come through…"
"Then we'll fight him together."
But the connection faltered, his voice fading into static. She slammed her hand on the altar, blood splattering the stone. "Kael!"
The runes shuddered violently — then burst outward in a flash of light.
A gust of power surged from the shrine, splitting the clouds. Across the night, Father Malric lifted his head. The relic in his hand pulsed like a living heart.
He smiled. "So the witch dares to call the dead."
He turned to his soldiers. "Prepare the circle. If the bond won't break by faith, we'll break it by fire."
Inside the shadow realm, Kael felt the pull, the tear in the veil. Light pierced through the darkness, burning like pain across his skin.
"Elara, no!" he shouted, but it was too late. The light wrapped around him, dragging him upward, tearing through Veyra's grasp.
The god roared. "You cannot save her without damning yourself!"
Kael's last words echoed as the light swallowed him.
"Then let me burn with her."
The sky split open.
Elara staggered back as a surge of crimson light crashed down from the heavens, striking the ground before her. When it faded, Kael knelt in the dirt,pale, shaking, and alive. His eyes were no longer ghost-white. They burned red like the Blood Moon itself.
He looked up at her, voice hoarse. "You shouldn't have done that."
She dropped to her knees and pulled him into her arms, trembling. "You came back."
"For now," he whispered. "But he came with me."
Behind them, their shadows fused into one shape, tall, monstrous, and watching.
The Blood Moon burned brighter overhead.
And far away, Father Malric raised the relic high, chanting words that made the earth tremble.
"By the ashes of saints and the blood of witches, awaken the god that sleeps!"
The relic burst into flame.
The war for their souls had begun.