Chapter 82: Into the Swamp of Shadows
They had no time to grieve, not properly. The sky bled hues of gray as Elara, Ariella, and Percy crouched behind the charred ruins of the granary, ash still clinging to their clothes. Smoke from the remains of Ariella's home curled into the morning air, a painful reminder of how much they'd already lost.
Ariella knelt on the damp ground, clutching a scorched piece of her mother's shawl. Her lips trembled, but no tears came. The grief sat too deep for tears.
"We have to keep moving," Elara said gently, though her own voice cracked. Her parents had escaped with burns and bruises, but at least they were still alive.
Ariella looked up, hollow-eyed. "What if this never ends? What if we destroy the relic and they still find ways to hurt us? What if... my mother died for nothing?"
Percy crouched beside her, offering no words, just presence. It was Elara who finally said, "She didn't die for nothing. She died because the Shadow wants to break us. But if we give up now, we let him win. We finish this. For her. For everyone."
Before Ariella could answer, Uncle Jonathan appeared, his cloak singed but his expression resolute. "I brought you this." He unfurled a brittle map. "This shows the old paths into the swamp. If you're going to destroy whatever Laxman is drawing power from, you'll need this."
"Thank you," Elara whispered.
"I tried to reason with them," he continued, his voice shaking. "I reminded them how you risked your lives against the Shrouded One. But they wouldn't listen. Laxman's twisted their minds."
"Why would they believe him?" Ariella asked bitterly.
Jonathan sighed. "Because he offers false hope. And people cling to anything when they're drowning. Even poison."
They left under the shroud of night. The swamp loomed like a beast from old nightmares—moss-laden trees hunched over winding paths, and thick mist curled around their ankles. The deeper they ventured, the more the air felt wrong. Time itself seemed to stretch and snap.
Shadows slithered between branches, whispering names.
"Ariella..." came her mother's voice.
"Elara... come home," said a haunting echo of her father.
"You abandoned us," a voice accused Percy. "You watched us burn."
They turned to each other, shaken. "Ignore it," Elara urged. "They're lies."
But then the visions came.
Ariella stumbled, falling into a puddle, and saw her mother glaring at her from the reflection. "You let them kill me. You ran."
Elara clutched her head as the trees around her turned into faces, sneering and whispering, "You'll be next. You'll carry the Shadow."
Percy collapsed, clutching his ears. "Little 7... I didn't mean to abandon you!"
Then, from the fog, a warm light pierced the darkness—a vision of the Queens. Their serene faces glowed faintly.
"This is not the truth," the White Queen said.
"Find each other again. Only your bond can break the illusion," the Blue Queen added.
Elara crawled to Ariella and gripped her hand. Percy reached for them both. Together, the fog thinned, the whispers dulled. The swamp recoiled.
Ahead, a shrine made of bone and mud sat half-buried in dark waters. At its center pulsed a jagged relic—black and veined with crimson light.
"That's it," Percy muttered. "That's where Laxman draws from."
But they weren't alone. A hunched creature—once human, now corrupted—guarded it. Its flesh sagged like melting wax, and its eyes were hollow sockets oozing dark smoke.
It lunged.
Elara shot a burst of light, but it absorbed the hit.
"Together!" Ariella shouted. She summoned a surge of wind, slamming the creature back. Percy hurled a dagger, embedding it into the monster's chest. It screamed, and Elara fired another blast. This time, it shattered into dust.
Without wasting time, they turned to the relic.
"It's reacting," Percy warned. The crimson light flared, and the ground trembled.
Elara raised her hands, channeling the magic the Queens once gave her. Ariella added hers. The relic cracked, split, then exploded in a shockwave that knocked them all to the ground.
The swamp groaned like a dying beast. Black mist hissed and dispersed.
---
Far from the swamp, Laxman sat waist-deep in the river, his robes soaked, eyes closed. The water swirled unnaturally around him. A sudden pulse rippled through the current.
He opened his eyes and smiled.
"So they destroyed it... good. Now, let what lies beyond awaken. Just as I expected."
---
The girls and Percy returned to the village with defeated expressions. They tended to Percy's injuries, Elara and Ariella combining their magic to heal his wounds. Fatigue weighed on all of them.
"Let's rest for now," Elara said quietly. "We'll regroup tomorrow and figure out our next step."
Morning brought new resolve. As agreed, the three met and made their way toward the crevice—the sacred place of ritual and visions. They stood hand in hand, channeling the same magic that once brought the Queens before them.
Moments later, the mist thickened and shimmered. The Blue and White Queens emerged from the haze, their expressions grim.
"You've done what we could not," said the Blue Queen. "The relic is gone."
"But something else was released when it broke," the White Queen added. "We do not yet know what it is, only that it is ancient... and dangerous."
"We're acting on it as swiftly as we can," said the Blue Queen. "But you must remain vigilant."
With silent nods, the girls and Percy departed the crevice. Though the village still harbored anger and mistrust toward them, they had no choice but to return.
Something far worse had been set in motion.