Chapter 10: The Cleansing Fire
Aria's POV
Roman's speech seemed like a haunting echo of the past as his younger, dark figure appeared in front of me. "Why did you go?"
The question weighed heavily on the air. My heart ached from a weird mixture of wrath and sympathy as I stared at him.
"You understand why," I murmured in a voice that was almost audible. "You made me do it. You caused me pain.
His eyes were full with a frantic desire as he shook his head. "I wanted to keep you safe. to protect you.
"Safe?" My voice was nasty as I mocked. "You held me captive."
With a beseeching tone, he stated, "I was trying to give you a home." "A location where you felt accepted."
"I belonged to myself," I answered, my voice steely. "Not to you. Not to anyone.
His hand was shaking as he extended it. Aria, please. Give me another opportunity.
"No," I answered in a chilly tone. "There are no more chances."
With a racing heart, I turned away. I was unable to remain here. I couldn't revisit the past.
Darius took a step closer and placed a warm hand on my shoulder. "We must leave," he said quietly. "The ceremony is about to begin."
I nodded, my eyes locked on the route ahead. The shadows swirled about us, whispering whispers attempting to lure us back.
But we persisted, our determination strong, our steps steady.
We arrived in a clearing where the moon's gentle light was shining. The sound of the whispering falls was a calming song as they tumbled down a rock wall.
Standing in a circle, the elders' features were marked with a silent firmness.
Three items sat on a stone altar in the middle of the clearing. A gray, smooth stone. A beautiful white feather. And a little flame that flickered.
"The ritual is ready," one of the elders stated, his voice solemn. "Are you ready?"
I glanced at Darius, who had a resolute support in his eyes. With my pulse racing, I nodded. "Yes."
The elder answered, "Then, let's get started."
Slowly and deliberately, the ritual started. The elders recited old words, their voices creating a tapestry of power.
Energy crackled in the air, a palpable power that caused my skin to prickle.
I was told to grasp the stone and feel its weight and history. One of them said, "This stone symbolizes your past."
"The hurt, the treachery, the truth."
The stone felt chilly in my fingers when I closed my eyes. Memories invaded my thoughts, vivid and horrible.
Roman's touch, words, and face. The violation, the rage, the dread.
My hand was shaking as I opened my eyes. I said, "I see it."
The elder said, "Then, let it go." "Let it go."
The sound of my throwing the stone to the ground reverberated across the area. I felt as if I had been released from the burdensome weight of the past.
The feather, whose delicate touch contrasted sharply with the stone, was then given to me. "Your present is symbolized by this feather," they said. "The decisions you make, the routes you take."
I grasped the feather, which represented freedom due to its low weight. I reflected on Darius, his love, kindness, and strength. I considered my own fortitude and tenacity.
With a firm and distinct voice, I declared, "I choose to be free." "I decide to be who I am."
As a sign of my newly discovered independence, I let go of the feather and let the wind whisk it away.
They gave me the flame at last, its fading light a lighthouse in the night.
"Your future is symbolized by this flame," they said. "The hope, the dreams, the possibilities."
I kept the candle burning, its warmth a hope for a better day. I imagined a future with Darius, one in which I would be loved and free.
I said, "I choose to hope," with a quiet strength in my voice. "I decide to believe."
I held the blaze high, its light lighting the clearing. The ceremony reached its peak as the air crackled with electricity.
Then I felt a piercing ache that tore through me. My thoughts flashed a distinct, vivid visual.
Roman's eyes were crimson and his face was twisted with anger. Swirling about his hands were the black tendrils of electricity.
Then I heard his voice, reverberating in my head. "You will never be free."
The vision faded, leaving behind a chilling fear. The clearing went dark as the flame flickered and then died.
Fear engraved on their features, the elderly gasped. "The ritual… it's been corrupted," one of them said, his voice trembling.
"What is meant by that?" My voice trembled as I asked.
The elder said, "The bond is stronger than we anticipated." "It's connected to something... more sinister."
"The creature," Darius said in a low, menacing voice.
The older said, "Yes." "It's strengthening with every second, feeding on the bond."
"We must put an end to it," I said firmly. "The bond must be broken."
"There is only one path," the elder stated solemnly. "The ritual of blood." But it's a risky road. It may ruin you both.
I glanced at Darius, who had a silent resolve in his eyes. I replied in a firm voice, "We'll do it." "Together, we will confront it."
He nodded, his fingers tightening on me. "We'll."
The elders' features were marked with a mixture of reverence and dread as they looked at us. "Then start the blood ritual."
They guided us to a little stone room that was concealed behind the gurgling waterfall. The smell of magic and blood filled the air.
A stone altar, smeared with black, dried blood, stood in the middle of the room. On the altar were two silver daggers, their blades shining in the low light.
One of the elders declared, "These daggers are the key." They will break the connection, but they will also create a path.
"A gateway?" My voice was confused as I asked.
The elder described it as "a gateway to the creature's realm." "A world of chaos and darkness."
My throat tightened each breath. The beast would be in its own territory when we faced it.
"We must exercise caution," Darius said in a low, menacing voice.
"If we make a mistake, we might be stuck here forever."
With my pulse racing, I nodded. We were on a perilous course that may end in our demise.
But we had no option. The relationship has to be severed. The creature needed to be stopped.
The icy metal of the daggers served as a sharp reminder of the sacrifice we were going to make as we picked them up.
"Are you ready?" Darius questioned, his voice gentle, his eyes probing me.
I nodded, my fingers quivering, but my determination solid. "Yes."
We stood at the altar, the daggers lifted, ready to strike.
Then a voice, full of evil, dark power, reverberated across the room. "You cannot escape me."
The room rocked, the walls shaking. A glimpse of a world of fire and shadow appeared as a dark, swirling vortex opened in the middle of the room.
Then, like the beast itself, Roman moved through the whirlpool, his shape changing and twisting, his eyes glimmering crimson.
"You are mine," he hissed, his voice a deep, guttural rumble. "And you'll never be free."