Tista's grip tightened on Lucian's wrist, her cold fingers sending a shock of fear through him. He had hoped, desperately hoped, that the threat was over, but as he looked into her pale, strained face, something told him that they had only scratched the surface of the darkness that had taken root in their world.
"We have to get you help," Lucian whispered, his voice tight with desperation. "We'll find a way. We'll fix this."
Tista's eyes flickered, unfocused for a moment, and when they settled back on him, they were filled with a haunting wisdom, an understanding that Lucian wasn't ready to face.
"It's too late for me, Lucian," she rasped, her voice barely a whisper, but there was no mistaking the gravity of her words. "I'm not who I was anymore. The darkness… it's inside me. It's growing."
Laila crouched down beside them, her face pale and drawn with concern. "What do you mean? What's happening to you, Tista?"
Tista's breath was shallow, her body trembling as though she was fighting to stay conscious. She looked at them both, her gaze softening for a moment before it became distant again, as though something within her was slipping away.
"It's not just magic," Tista murmured, her voice fading in and out. "It's worse. It's a force, something ancient and dark… and it's inside me. I can feel it, Lucian. It wants to take me… to take control."
Lucian felt a cold chill creep up his spine. He had seen firsthand the destructive power of dark magic, but this was something entirely different. Something deeper, more insidious. His mind raced, searching for answers, but all he could see was the haunting image of his sister—the sister who had once been full of life and laughter—now lying broken and distant in his arms.
"We'll figure it out," Lucian said, his voice fierce with determination. "We won't let it take you, Tista. You're stronger than this."
Tista gave him a faint, bittersweet smile, but there was no joy in it, only resignation. "I wish I could believe that," she whispered, her eyes closing for a brief moment. "But you don't understand. It's already begun. You can't stop it."
Laila's eyes filled with tears, and she reached out, brushing Tista's hair from her face. "Tista, don't say that. We can fight this. We can fight it together."
But Tista's grip on Lucian's wrist slackened, and her body went limp. Panic surged through him, and he quickly pulled her closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Tista?" he said urgently. "Tista, stay with us!"
For a moment, it seemed as though she might slip away entirely, but then her eyes fluttered open again, and she gasped for air, her chest rising and falling in shallow, erratic breaths.
"It's getting worse," she whispered, her voice trembling. "You need to stop it, Lucian. You need to find the source."
"The source?" Lucian repeated, his mind spinning. "What source? What are you talking about?"
Tista's eyes flickered, her gaze unfocused again. "The heart of the storm. The place where it all began. It's still out there. The darkness… it's still spreading, and you're the only one who can stop it."
Lucian's heart clenched in his chest. He had fought so hard to end it, to rid the world of the evil that had plagued it for so long. But now, Tista's words made it clear that their battle wasn't over. It was only just beginning.
"The heart of the storm?" Laila asked, her voice shaky but resolute. "Where is it?"
Tista's lips trembled as she spoke, each word coming out strained. "The old temple… the one beneath the mountains. The one where it all began. The one where the magic was first unleashed. You must go there… and destroy it. Only then will the darkness be stopped."
Lucian felt the weight of her words press down on him. They had already faced the storm once, but now they were being asked to face it again, to go deeper into the heart of it, to find the source of the magic that had nearly torn their world apart. The thought of it filled him with dread, but at the same time, he felt the fire of determination rise within him. He couldn't lose Tista. Not like this.
He looked at Laila, and she met his gaze, her eyes steady despite the fear that was clearly there. They had come this far together, and they weren't about to stop now.
"We'll do it," Lucian said, his voice firm. "We'll find the temple. We'll destroy it. We won't let this darkness take over."
Tista's hand weakly grasped Lucian's once more, and she gave him a look of gratitude, but there was also something else in her eyes—something darker, something that Lucian couldn't quite place.
"You have to hurry," she whispered. "I don't have much time. And neither does the world."
With those final words, her hand fell from Lucian's, and he felt the heavy weight of her words settle deep in his chest. There was no time to waste.
The journey to the mountains was long and grueling. Lucian and Laila moved quickly, driven by the urgency of Tista's words. They had no choice but to press on, even though their bodies ached, and the weight of their past battles seemed to drag them down at every step.
As they reached the base of the mountains, the air grew colder, the sky darkening with the heavy clouds that seemed to gather above them. The storm—literal and metaphorical—hung thick in the air, and Lucian could feel the pull of something powerful, something malevolent, drawing them in.
They passed through dense forests, crossed treacherous cliffs, and finally, after what felt like days, they reached the ancient temple. It loomed before them, an imposing structure that seemed to pulse with dark energy. The stone walls were covered in ancient runes, their meanings lost to time, but Lucian knew that this was where it all began. This was where the magic had been unleashed—and where they would face the final battle.
The doors of the temple were cracked open, as though waiting for them to enter. Lucian felt the air around him thrum with the power that resided within, a power so dark that it sent chills down his spine.
"Are you ready?" Laila asked, her voice soft but resolute.
Lucian nodded, his eyes narrowing as he stepped forward. "Let's finish this."
Together, they entered the temple.
The interior was even darker than the storm outside, the air thick with the weight of ancient magic. The walls seemed to close in around them, and Lucian could almost hear the whispers of the past, of the dark forces that had once been unleashed in this very place.
And then, at the center of the temple, they saw it. A massive stone pedestal, dark and ominous, standing alone in the middle of the chamber. It was there—the heart of the storm. The source of the darkness that had plagued their world.
Lucian could feel the power emanating from it, a force so potent and twisted that it made his skin crawl. But he didn't hesitate. He knew what he had to do. They had to destroy it.
He reached for the pendant that hung around his neck, the one that had been given to him by Selia. The pendant that had once been a symbol of his power, now a symbol of his purpose. With a deep breath, Lucian stepped forward, ready to face whatever came next.
The storm was about to reach its peak.