Selene's senses spun. The shadows enveloped her, curling like living smoke around her limbs, pressing against her chest, whispering words in languages she had never heard but somehow understood. Her magic flared instinctively, a pulse of energy that drove the darkness back slightly, but it was only enough to create a fragile bubble around her.
Auren's voice cut through the black, urgent, unwavering. "Selene! Focus on me! Reach for me!"
She did, her hand trembling as the pull of his presence became the only anchor in the suffocating darkness. Slowly, impossibly, her fingers grazed the edge of his sleeve. He responded immediately, his hand wrapping over hers with a strength that grounded her, even as the shadows hissed and recoiled.
"Good," he breathed, his voice close, warm, like sunlight in winter. "Hold tight."
The darkness around them twisted violently, forming faces — glimpses of soldiers, courtiers, witches long dead. They whispered warnings, curses, pleas, all blending into a chorus of torment. Selene shivered, every hair on her body standing on end. "What… what are they?" she asked, her voice barely audible.
"They are echoes," Auren said, his grip steady. "The memories of those who died here, bound to the curse. They test us, probe us… and sometimes, they try to stop those who might undo the curse."
Selene's stomach knotted. She looked at him, at the golden glow of his eyes cutting through the darkness, and realized how deeply she trusted him despite the danger. Every instinct screamed that he was a being of immense power, centuries of sorrow etched into his features — yet every action, every careful movement, showed restraint and care.
She let herself breathe slowly, focusing on the warmth of his hand, the steadiness of his presence. "I… I can feel it," she whispered. "The magic of this place. It's… alive."
"Yes," Auren said, eyes scanning the shadows. "And it knows your bloodline. That is why you are here."
They advanced, careful steps echoing through the shattered hall. Moonlight flickered across broken walls, illuminating a grand mirror ahead — larger and clearer than any they had passed. Its surface shimmered unnaturally, reflecting not only the ruins but fragments of the past.
Selene froze. Her reflection stared back, but it was not her alone. Behind her, a woman with storm-gray eyes — the same as hers — stood in the mirror, framed in centuries-old silk robes. She moved with purpose, her expression solemn, her lips parting as though to speak.
"That… can't be me," Selene whispered, gripping her amulet.
Auren's expression darkened as he stepped closer, his eyes narrowing. "It is not exactly you," he said carefully. "It is a fragment of the past — your bloodline, your ancestors. What they did here… what they unleashed… is reflected in this castle. You are seeing the woman whose actions led to my curse."
Selene's heart stuttered. "So… I'm part of this?"
"Yes," he said, his voice low, steady. "By blood, by magic… by fate. And now, the castle will test you, just as it has tested them for centuries."
The mirror pulsed suddenly, and shadows surged from its frame, writhing toward them with more intent than before. Selene staggered back, and Auren's grip tightened over her hand.
"You must not panic," he ordered, his voice firm. "The castle feeds on fear. Control yourself."
She nodded, though terror threatened to overtake her. Her magic flared again, stronger this time, forming a faint barrier around them. The shadows recoiled but did not retreat entirely.
Auren's gaze softened slightly, lingering on her face. "You are stronger than I expected," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Perhaps… you are the one who can undo what has been done."
Selene swallowed, feeling a mixture of pride and fear. "Then let's… try," she whispered, focusing on the magic within her, allowing it to flow outward in a controlled pulse. The shadows writhed, twisting violently, and for a brief moment, they recoiled, leaving the hall eerily silent.
But silence did not last. A soft, haunting voice echoed through the mirror:
"She carries my soul."
Selene's blood ran cold. She glanced at Auren. His golden eyes flared, a mix of recognition and dread crossing his face.
"They know," he said, voice low, tense. "The curse… the remnants of the past… they know you are here. And they will not let you leave untested."
The shadows surged again, faster, angrier, and Selene felt herself lifted off the ground, pulled into their smoky embrace. She struggled, magic and fear mingling, but the darkness was relentless.
"Auren!" she screamed, panic rising in her chest.
His hand shot out instinctively, brushing against her arm. The connection — fragile, fleeting — grounded her, but the shadows twisted, separating them once more.
"Hold on!" he shouted, his voice carrying power and desperation. "I will not lose you here!"
The hall shook violently, dust and rubble falling around them. The blood-red moon above streaked the floor with crimson light. Selene felt herself slipping, the shadows pulling her into an abyss of darkness, magic, and echoes.
And then — just as everything seemed lost — a voice rang out through the chaos, a voice from long ago, chilling and familiar:
"She carries my blood… and my fate."
Selene's scream echoed, swallowed by the shadows, as Auren lunged toward her, his form blurring with power and determination.
And then — the darkness consumed everything.