Long after the stones stopped falling, Amara felt the shockwave reverberate inside her chest as the shrine's explosion echoed across the valley like a wounded beast screaming into the night. She gasped for oxygen as Kweku dragged her away from the crumbling archway, the dust making the air heavy and metallic. Like a second heartbeat attempting to overwhelm her own rhythm, something ancient moved inside her bloodstream, not like a possession. She staggered, clutching her arms as though she could only keep herself upright by force. Whispering in a language ancient than the ground beneath their feet, the spirit's voice pulsed behind her temples. With terrified eyes, Kweku knelt next to her. He said, "Fight it." "Avoid letting it take you."
Three shadows appeared across the ridge before Amara could respond, their torches blazing with scarlet flames that cast an unsettling glare across the night. The head of the group that had been pursuing the talismans raised a staff engraved with symbols that pulsed like live snakes, and they moved with a sickening certainty. "There!" he bellowed. "The vessel has come to life. Before the joining becomes irrevocable, she needs to be contained. Kweku took hold of Amara's hand and dragged her into the forest's shadows. He said, "They know what's inside you." As the pursuers dashed down the slope, branches splintered behind them. Amara's spirit surged, almost joyfully, and her breath caught. Don't run, kid. They can be forced to kneel by me. She tightened her grip
As they raced through the undergrowth, the forest engulfed them, its blackness deep and thick, each branch appearing to claw at their limbs. Spears thudded violently into trees as they whistled by. Kweku continued to look back, changing his speed to protect Amara from the bullets. Once more, the spirit pulsed, causing her bones to split like lightning. It snarled inside her mind, "Stop fighting me." "You have feeble flesh. Allow me to lead the fight. Amara bumped against a moss-covered trunk after tripping over a root. She gasped, "I won't let you loose." The ghost chuckled quietly, patient, cool, and ancient. The hunters behind them became more audible, their footfall blending into an unrelenting symphony. She wasn't being pursued by them. They were getting closer.
Kweku pulled her into a moonlit clearing where the fog swirled about their ankles like restless souls, drifting in thin ribbons. Amara felt another rush through her body and fell to her knees, pressing her palms into the wet ground. A towering shape of pure energy loomed behind her, visible only in her imagination but impossible to ignore as the world tilted. It was something ancient, sculpted from memory and fire, rather than formed like a human. It whispered, "You shudder like prey." However, you are selected to be in charge. Amara gave a fierce shake of her head. She said, "I never asked for this." The ghost drew in closer, its voice suddenly audible everywhere. No one ever asks for power. Just taken.
With coordinated accuracy, the hunters charged into the clearing and formed a semicircle. A ring of crimson light swept across the trees as their leader slammed his staff into the earth, his eyes glowing like embers. "Amara of the Mark, you may still live if you give up the spirit," he said. With his blade lifted, Kweku moved in front of her in an instant. "I'll go through you first." The leader growled. "Happily." Stretching through her limbs like a hurricane, Amara sensed the spirit rising within her. It pleaded, "Let me protect what you fear to lose." This tide can only be turned by me. Her heart pounded as she closed her eyes tightly. She couldn't decide whether the spirit's promise or the hunters scared her more.
Amara was instantly out of the clearing as a rush of vertigo hit. She was standing inside her own consciousness, which was a huge, reverberating area made up of shifting shadows and light. The spirit was in front of her, its shape now more distinct, its energy pulsing with subdued aggression. It said, "You stand at a threshold." One route results in devastation, while the other leads to domination. Make a decision. Amara's voice wavered. "Will you stop once it's over if I let you fight?" The ghost cocked its head. It is impossible to reverse freedom. Her gut churned with fear. She could just barely hear Kweku yelling outside, the sound of weapons clashing at the periphery of her consciousness. She was short on time. She was unsure. All she could do was choose.
With a gasp, Amara returned to her body as the image vanished. Kweku's blade and the red energy emanating from the leader's staff were already locked in fight. His face was lit by sparks, displaying a combination of desperation and unadulterated resolve. Amara reflexively lifted her arm as a hunter lunged for her. The assailant was thrown aside by a flash of blue light that burst from her palm. Her breath caught. She hadn't done it. The spirit murmured, almost smugly, "A taste." Imagine the benefits of full release. Overwhelmed, Amara stumbled. The hunters tightened their circles and reassembled. Panic breaking his voice, Kweku yelled her name once again. Amara sensed the energy pushing forward, pleading to burn like wildfire through her veins.
The universe seemed to be holding its breath as Amara slowly stood up, the air shaking all around her. Red light gathered at the tip of the leader's staff like a rising sun as he directed it at her heart. Two hunters blocked Kweku's way as he attempted to reach her. The voice of the spirit became unavoidable as it became louder and roared. Everything that threatens you will turn to ash if you say the word, child. Amara could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She gazed at Kweku, at the worry in his eyes, at the impending danger. Despite the bustle, she steadied herself by taking a sharp breath. She curled her fingers at her sides. She whispered, "Fine," not sure if she was speaking to fate, the ghost, or herself. "I make the decision."