Chosen to Survive (ONC2024)

Chapter 15

The Master's POV

As dusk descends over Crestwood, enveloping it in shades of twilight dread, I stand at the window of my darkened tower, looking down at the streets that twist and turn like the serpents of my will through the town. The air is crisp, charged with the electric anticipation of the coming storm—both literal and figurative. My reign over this place is absolute, yet tonight, it faces a feeble challenge from those who still cling to futile hopes of liberation.

"They intend to come tonight," I speak softly, my voice a mere whisper that somehow fills the chamber, resonating with the cold stone and darker shadows. My lieutenant, a wraithlike figure garbed in shadows, bows deeply at the edge of the light.

"Yes, my lord. The rebels, led by Oakley and that girl, Lily. They think they can disrupt the ritual," the lieutenant reports, his voice a sibilant echo of fear and deference.

I turn from the window, my cloak swirling around me like a tangible cloud of darkness. "Prepare the defenses. Let none approach the sanctum. I will deal with them myself when the time comes," I command, my tone leaving no room for disobedience.

The wraith nods, melting back into the shadows from which he came, to carry out my orders. Alone again, I ponder the audacity of their plan. They seek to undo what has been wrought by powers they can barely comprehend. Yet, there is something invigorating about the prospect of crushing their hope myself.

As night fully claims the sky, I descend from my tower to the ritual chamber beneath the fortress. The air grows denser, the darkness deeper, as if the very building anticipates the violence to come. Here, surrounded by ancient tomes and the artifacts of dark sorceries, I feel my power most acutely—a pulsing force that thrums through the veins of the building.

The first sign of their approach is a subtle shift in the air, a vibration in the ether that speaks of breached wards and whispered incantations. "So, they begin," I murmur, a smile playing upon my lips. The game is afoot, and I am both the hunter and the hunted.

But they are not quiet or careful enough. The sound of their cautious footsteps echoes through the corridors, a symphony of desperation. I position myself in the center of the ritual chamber, where the power is strongest, and wait.

The door bursts open, and they enter—Lily, Oakley, and a few others whose faces are new to me but will soon be forgotten. "Stop this, now!" Lily shouts, her voice echoing bravely in the vast chamber.

"You cannot win, child," I reply, my voice calm, resonating with the power of the dark arts that thrum around us. "You have no idea what forces you tamper with."

But they are undeterred, advancing with what they believe to be weapons capable of harming me. I unleash a simple, whispered spell, and shadows rise like serpents at my command, swirling around the intruders, sapping their strength, disorienting them.

"Your efforts are in vain," I declare as they struggle against the dark tendrils. Yet, there is a fire in their eyes, a determination that, while futile, commands a certain respect. They rally once more, their faces set with grim resolve, even as the shadows constrict tighter. The air is thick with impending doom, the outcome uncertain, but the horror of their situation is clear—they have walked into the lair of the beast, and here, I am the master of all I survey.

Lily's POV

The cavernous chamber reverberates with the clash of power and dark will as Oakley and I face the Master, standing defiant in his domain of shadows. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and the oppressive weight of impending doom. Oakley, despite the visible strain of our efforts, continues to chant the ancient incantations needed to bind the Master to the physical realm.

"We're close, Lily! Keep going!" Oakley yells, his voice strained under the effort. I nod, clutching the ancient amulet tightly in my hand. It's our only hope, pulsing with a light that grows brighter with each word I recite from the worn pages of the Bloodbound Necromance. The symbols etch into the air, glowing fiercely against the darkness.

The Master laughs, a sound that chills the very marrow in my bones. "Foolish children, playing at games you do not understand," he taunts, his form flickering between solidity and shadow, as if he is both there and not. He raises his hands, and dark energy gathers, swirling like a storm of pure malice.

"Lily, watch out!" Oakley's warning comes just in time. I dive to the side as a blast of dark power scorches the ground where I stood seconds before. Scrambling to my feet, I continue the chant, my voice louder, more forceful.

Oakley moves to intercept another attack, his face contorted in pain as he absorbs the impact with a shield of radiant energy we conjured earlier. It's taking all he has to protect us and maintain the incantation.

"We need to finish this now!" I shout, my fingers trembling as I place the amulet directly in the center of the ritual circle etched into the floor. The ground trembles, and a beam of light shoots upwards, piercing the darkness like a sword.

The Master screams, his form becoming unstable, flickering violently. "Impossible!" he bellows, but his voice sounds less confident, tinged with fear.

Oakley staggers, nearly falling. I rush to his side, helping him to stand. "We're almost there. Together," I say, lending him my strength.

With a final push of will, Oakley and I shout the last words of the incantation together. The amulet explodes with light, enveloping the Master in a blazing aura. His screams fill the chamber as he tries to fight the binding, but it's too late. With a deafening roar, the light consumes him, and then, suddenly, there is silence.

The darkness lifts like a curtain, and for a moment, there is peace. But it's broken by a soft groan. I turn to see Oakley collapsing, his energy spent, his body grievously wounded from the ordeal.

"Oakley!" I rush to him, lowering his head onto my lap. The chamber around us is quiet now, the threat gone, but the cost is clear as I look at Oakley's pale face.

"Lily," he whispers, his voice weak. "Did we... did we do it?"

"Yes, yes, we did it. You did it," I assure him, my vision blurred with tears.

He smiles faintly, his hand reaching up to touch my cheek. "I'm glad... I'm glad it was with you."

"Don't talk like that. You're going to be okay," I say, but the tremor in my voice betrays my fear. His breathing is shallow, his skin cold.

"Take care of them, Lily... keep fighting," he murmurs, his eyes fluttering.

"I will. I promise," I choke out, my heart breaking.

As I hold him, Oakley's breaths become slower, more labored, and then, in the quiet aftermath of our victory, he takes one final breath and is still. Tears stream down my face as I hold him close, the world outside the chamber oblivious to the sacrifice made here.

1,176 words