A damp chill hung in the air as Havyn and Selene pressed their backs to the slimy, cold wall of the cavern. The echo of dripping water was constant, a steady plink-plink that set Havyn's nerves on edge. Every few heartbeats, the ground seemed to shiver, as though the earth itself sensed the turmoil rising beneath its surface.
They'd fled deeper underground, seeking any path that might lead them away from the cult that hunted Selene and from the monstrous Warden of the black lake. But instead of finding safety, they had stumbled into a vast, domed chamber strewn with jagged rocks and narrow passages—and into the path of the Daughters of the Abyss.
Now, torches mounted along the walls cast wavering orange light that mixed with swirling shadows. The shadows—unnatural, alive—seemed to creep closer with each flicker of flame. Havyn's heart hammered as he stared at the robed figures encircling them, their layered chanting a low, ominous drone.
At the forefront stood a tall woman with pale skin and eyes as black as polished onyx. She wore her hood thrown back, revealing angular features and a cruel, thin-lipped smile. Her presence filled the chamber like a living storm, as though darkness radiated from her in invisible waves.
Selene gripped Havyn's arm, her fingers trembling. He felt her warlock sigils searing hot against his forearm—power roiled just beneath her skin, reacting to the presence of these people.
"They found us," she whispered, voice raw.
Havyn's claws dug into the stone behind him. "We'll handle it."
But even he was unsure. The circle of robed sorceresses—ten, maybe more—stood between them and any chance of escape. Their voices interwove in a haunting chant, words that pressed against Havyn's ears like nails. The air itself thrummed with malevolent energy.
He forced himself to keep calm. Panicking meant death. They'd fought overwhelming odds before, but the memory of the Abyssal horrors they'd just barely survived weighed heavily on him. They had no guarantee of a second miracle.
The Call of the Daughters
The leader raised one slender hand, silencing her sisters. Then she spoke, her voice smooth but resonant.
"Selene. Child of the Abyss."
The words sent a shudder through the chamber. Selene stiffened against Havyn, her breath catching.
"Don't call me that," she rasped, forcing each word out.
The woman's smile widened, revealing perfectly even teeth. "You left us in flames, Marked One. You thought you could destroy us. Yet here we stand."
She spread her arms, and Havyn glimpsed pale fingers tattooed with swirling black lines—symbols that might match the ones on Selene's skin.
Selene swallowed hard. "I should have done more than burn your sanctum. I should have seen to it that none of you survived."
Several of the robed sorceresses hissed in unison, the sound echoing off the cavern walls. Their circle tightened.
Havyn's stomach churned. He had never seen Selene show such venomous hatred toward anyone. Not even the slavers who'd once hunted her. The mere presence of these women seemed to rip open old wounds.
The leader nodded as though Selene's fury was expected. "You were always strong. Stronger than any of us realized. It made sense that you would lash out when confronted with your destiny." Her onyx eyes flicked to Havyn. "But you cannot run from who you are, child. Nor can your companion save you from it."
Havyn growled, shifting in front of Selene. "She doesn't need saving from anything but you."
The woman tilted her head. "You do not understand what she carries inside her, do you?"
Selene's grip on Havyn's arm turned painful. "Shut up."
A mirthless chuckle escaped the leader's lips. "He's ignorant of your birthright. Perhaps that's why he's so loyal."
Something in Selene snapped. She tore herself from Havyn's side, stepping forward with dark energy flaring around her hands. The sigils etched in her skin—those cursed black lines that marked her as more than a simple warlock—pulsed with malevolent light.
"I'm done with your riddles." Her voice echoed with an undercurrent of raw, unhinged power. "You want me? Come and take me."
First Assault
Several robed figures lunged in unison. Their shadows stretched into long, serrated tendrils, weaving through the torchlit gloom. Selene lashed out, flinging a coruscating wave of black fire that collided with the tendrils midair. The impact crackled, and sparks of ebon flame rained down, scorching the damp ground.
Havyn let out a battle snarl and charged. His body shifted—muscles bunching, bones cracking as fur rippled over his arms and torso. He exploded into a hulking bestial form, half-wolf, half-man, claws gleaming in the torchlight.
The circle of Daughters reacted, chanting faster, building a resonant hum that made Havyn's head pound. He rammed into one robed figure, claws tearing across cloth and flesh. She shrieked, stumbling back, but the others were already converging on him.
Their leader remained still, watching with a cold, almost analytical detachment as Havyn and Selene fought her sisters.
A robed Daughter on Havyn's left thrust out her hands, conjuring a spear of obsidian shadow that streaked toward his chest. He barely pivoted in time, letting it graze his side instead of impaling him. Pain flared, but he clamped his jaws on the spear and broke it in half with supernatural strength. The Daughter cursed, scrambling back.
Havyn advanced, ignoring the sting of the wound. He swung his massive arms in a wide arc, smashing through the next wave of shadowy attacks. For an instant, he thought they might stand a chance—Selene's warlock fire was holding the line, and he was carving a path through the cultists.
Then the chanting rose to a deafening pitch.
An unseen force slammed into Havyn, lifting him off his feet and hurling him into a craggy outcrop. Rocks tumbled from the impact, leaving him dazed.
Selene cried out his name. But she couldn't reach him; the circle had reformed, and a half-dozen cultists hemmed her in.
The Leader's Command
"Enough," said the leader's resonant voice.
Instantly, the Daughters halted their attack. The silence that followed was more unnerving than the chanting. Havyn groaned, trying to push himself off the rubble. The blow had left him gasping, spots swimming before his eyes.
He saw Selene, breathing hard, her arms raised defensively. The black fire around her hands flickered, threatening to gutter out. She was pushed to her limit—her gaze darted around, seeking an escape.
The leader stepped forward, robes whispering over the damp stone. A trickle of blood marred her pale shoulder—a wound from Havyn's earlier slash—but she hardly seemed hindered by it.
"Selene," she said, voice suddenly gentle. "You remember what we taught you. The nightmares, the pain… we gave you purpose. When the world enslaved you, we showed you how to enslave the world."
Selene's lip curled. "You tortured children. Turned them into monsters—or killed them when they failed to become what you wanted."
A flicker of something like annoyance crossed the leader's face. "Sacrifices are necessary for the Abyss to thrive. You, above all, should understand that."
Havyn braced himself against a rock, forcing air into his lungs. He'd heard enough. He flung himself forward, ignoring the pulsing ache in his ribs, ready to strike the leader from behind.
But one of the cultists intercepted him. She appeared from the shadows, arms extended, chanting a short, sharp phrase. The magic crackled in the air, binding Havyn's limbs as though a hundred invisible hands were grabbing him.
He struggled—yet the more he fought, the tighter the magic constricted. It crushed his chest, forcing the air from his lungs. A black haze edged his vision.
"Stop!" Selene shouted.
The leader did not so much as turn her head. "Then yield. Return to us."
Havyn's heart hammered. He could sense Selene's hesitation, the war raging inside her. If she gave in, she might spare him—but the cost was her freedom.
"No," she whispered, voice cracking.
Her warlock flames surged anew. She hurled a barrage of shadowy bolts at the cultist restraining Havyn, forcing the woman to divert some of her power in defense. Havyn felt the bindings loosen fractionally. Summoning every ounce of strength, he ripped free, stumbling forward.
Yet the moment cost Selene. Another Daughter lunged, raking black talons across Selene's midsection. Her protective wards absorbed most of the blow, but she staggered, a cry escaping her lips.
Havyn's vision reddened with rage.
He attacked, half shifting again, letting savage instincts lead him. The Daughter who had wounded Selene never saw him coming. His claws tore through her side, sending her sprawling.
But the circle was far from broken. The leader looked almost bored as the fight raged on.
Dark Communion
Then it happened—Havyn sensed a shift in the air. The Daughters, though battered, began chanting in unison. Even the wounded ones managed to lift their voices, forming an eerie, resonating harmony. Torch flames guttered, then burned brighter, flickering purple.
Selene hissed, pressing a hand to the wound on her stomach. "They're calling on the Abyss itself. They're going to force me… force us into it."
She tried to raise her magic, but her strength was fading. The wound at her waist trickled blood, and her face had gone dangerously pale.
Havyn moved to her, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "We'll stop them."
She shook her head. "We need more than brute force."
A swirl of shadow converged in the center of the cavern, forming a massive glyph etched with twisting runes. The lines glowed with black, pulsating light. Havyn felt his stomach lurch—this was a portal or ritual circle meant to bind something (or someone) irrevocably.
The robed leader stood at the glyph's center, arms raised. "Come to us, Marked One. Embrace your birthright."
Selene trembled. "I'd rather die."
A smirk touched the leader's lips. "That can be arranged."
She clapped her hands together. The glyph flashed, and a wave of force knocked Selene and Havyn off their feet. They hit the ground hard, dust rising in choking plumes.
Havyn shook his head, trying to clear the ringing in his ears. Selene lay beside him, coughing, bruised, and bleeding. Her eyes fluttered open, locking onto his.
A silent message passed between them: We fight to the end—no matter what.
Desperate Measures
Havyn rose, ignoring the pain. He had to buy Selene enough time to muster one last spell, or at least to break the ritual forming in the center of the chamber.
His body shifted once more—this time, wholly. Fur sprouted along his arms, chest, and neck. His features elongated into a fierce lupine muzzle, muscles rippling with primal might. This was the apex of his druidic form, a hybrid that blended savage beast with cunning man.
A snarl tore from his throat as he charged the chanting sisters.
They parted to reveal a single figure—the leader. She watched him with cold fascination, then raised her arms. Spear-like shadows erupted from the floor, aimed at Havyn's chest.
He twisted mid-lunge, batting aside the first two spears. The third slashed into his flank, drawing a line of hot pain. He roared but kept going, the momentum of his charge unstoppable.
The leader tried to pivot away, but Havyn slammed into her with bone-jarring force. Her eyes widened as they tumbled across the cavern floor in a tangle of limbs and swirling robes.
She hissed, lifting a hand to strike him with a point-blank spell.
Before she could, Havyn's claws raked down her arm, blood spattering across her robe. She cried out, more in rage than agony. Darkness flared around her, forcing Havyn back.
They broke apart, each scrambling upright. The leader cradled her wounded arm, eyes blazing with fury. Havyn bared his teeth, ignoring the throbbing pain in his ribs.
He heard Selene chanting behind him, voice quavering but determined.
> Buy her time.
He lunged again.
Selene's Reckoning
While Havyn kept the leader occupied, Selene forced herself to stand. Blood slicked her fingers where she clutched her wounded side, but she drew on every reserve of warlock power she still possessed.
She recalled the lessons she'd tried to bury—the Daughters' teachings that had nearly broken her mind. The incantations were there, in the darkest corners of her memory. Twisting illusions. Binding spells. The very magic they had used to torture her.
If they wanted the Abyss, she would give it to them.
Drawing a shaky breath, Selene raised her free hand. Black flames coalesced around her fingertips, swirling in tight coils before expanding into a shifting mass of living darkness. It pulsed in sync with her heartbeat, threatening to consume her. But she refused to yield.
Her gaze shot to Havyn. He was locked in a vicious dance with the leader, their magics clashing in sparks of greenish druidic light and midnight flame. Around them, the other cultists circled like wolves, waiting for an opening.
"Enough, you monsters," Selene rasped.
She thrust her arm forward, unleashing the darkness.
The flame erupted in a wide arc, hitting not just the robed sisters nearest Havyn but coursing across the glyph in the center of the room. The runes flickered, their black glow turning chaotic, no longer under the cultists' control.
A roar of dissonant voices filled the cavern—the Abyss itself, outraged by the conflict of will.
Selene staggered, choking on the very air as she fought to maintain control of the unleashed power. The swirling darkness around her arms threatened to surge back into her, devouring what remained of her sanity.
But then she felt Havyn.
He wasn't physically touching her, but the connection they'd forged—through battle, through shared survival—grounded her. She latched onto that memory, that feeling of safety, and willed the magic to obey.
The Circle Breaks
The cultists screamed as Selene's wave of black fire tore through their lines. Those too slow to conjure wards were hurled back, their robes aflame with ephemeral darkness that seared mind more than flesh. Their chanting collapsed into a cacophony of wails, echoing through the chamber.
The leader snapped her head around, eyes wide. "You dare use our own teachings against us?"
She flung an arm toward Selene, unleashing a jagged bolt of umbral lightning. But Havyn intercepted, shifting one arm into a thick, bark-like shield. The bolt slammed into him, scorching his makeshift armor, yet he held firm.
"Try that again," he snarled.
The leader bared her teeth, a mixture of hatred and grudging respect on her face. "You'd protect her at the cost of your own life?"
Havyn glanced at Selene, who stood with black flames curling around her palms, eyes filled with a desperate resolve. "Without hesitation."
A moment of silence, thick with tension. Then the leader smiled—cold, predatory. "Then die together."
She raised her hands. Darkness flooded the chamber in a violent surge, extinguishing the torches, devouring the last flickers of normal light. Havyn couldn't see more than a few feet in front of him, only vague silhouettes of robed figures stumbling away in the gloom.
In that suffocating blackness, the leader's voice rang out, layered with the resonance of a hundred whispers: "Abyss, reclaim what is yours!"
Collapse
The ground lurched, as if something deep beneath them was groaning in pain. Fissures snaked across the cavern floor, and stone crumbled from the ceiling.
Havyn realized in a flash of horror that the entire chamber was about to collapse. The Daughters must have warped its structure with their ritual, and now Selene's counterattack had turned that power wild.
"Selene!" he called, trying to follow the faint flicker of her flames.
"Here," she gasped.
He sprinted toward her voice, stumbling over chunks of rock that shook loose from the ceiling. A boulder crashed beside him, sending shards of stone slicing past his cheek. Dust choked his lungs.
He found Selene kneeling near the battered glyph, black flames stuttering around her hands. She looked up at him, exhaustion etched into her features.
"We have to get out," he said, latching onto her arm.
She nodded weakly. "The… the passage we came from—blocked."
He glanced around, struggling to see in the swirling dust and darkness. A chunk of the ceiling collapsed near the far wall, revealing a small, ragged opening from which a faint glow emanated. Possibly another corridor or an upper shaft.
"That way," Havyn said, pulling Selene to her feet.
They staggered toward the opening. The floor cracked again, dropping half a foot beneath them. Havyn heard yells and shrieks from the remaining cultists, some crushed by falling rock, others dragging themselves toward hidden exits.
Some part of him wanted to make sure the Daughters didn't survive this. But survival—Selene's survival—came first.
They reached the gap in the wall. It was high enough that Havyn had to lift Selene, letting her scramble over the sharp edges. She hissed in pain, clutching her wounded side. He followed, forcing his battered body through the narrow space, ignoring the scrape of stone against his arms and legs.
Behind them, the cavern roared in final collapse. A deafening boom echoed, and a wave of dust blasted them like a desert wind.
After the Storm
They emerged into a cramped tunnel that sloped upward, the air slightly less stale. Selene coughed, tears streaming from her eyes as she tried to clear her lungs of dust. Havyn coughed as well, blinking to regain focus.
"Keep moving," he wheezed. "Before the rest of this place comes down."
She nodded, leaning heavily on him. Step by step, they navigated the winding passage, stumbling over rocks and broken stalagmites. Occasionally, they heard the groans of shifting earth behind them, but the tunnel seemed more stable than the chamber they'd escaped.
At last, they came upon a fissure in the ceiling that let in a sliver of pale light—likely the same one they'd seen earlier. Havyn's heart soared at the sight of it.
He guided Selene under the light, searching for handholds in the jagged walls. The cut on his flank burned, but the adrenaline still racing through him dulled the worst of the pain.
Selene looked up at the crack overhead, her breath hitching. "We can… maybe climb," she murmured, voice raw.
Havyn nodded. "I'll shift if I have to."
Together, they tested the walls, looking for the best route. The climb would be tough with Selene injured and Havyn exhausted. But it was their only chance.
He took a deep breath. "Let me go first. I'll help pull you up."
Selene forced a faint smile. "If we fall… well, at least it'll be quick."
Havyn refused to dwell on that grim possibility. He just started climbing, his claws granting him extra grip in the slick stone. Each movement sent a twinge of pain through his battered ribs, but he pushed past it.
At about fifteen feet up, he wedged himself onto a narrow ledge. Bracing his back against the opposite wall, he extended one arm down. "Grab on!"
Selene unsteadily followed, hooking her foot into a crack. She clutched Havyn's hand, and he hauled her up with a grunt of exertion. Her own strength was nearly spent.
They inched upward, bit by bit, until a final push brought them through the fissure into a cramped alcove. The air here was fresher, and a weak glow—likely from the morning sun—filtered down another slope. Havyn nearly collapsed from relief.
Selene sagged against the wall, sweat pouring down her temples. "We're almost there," she whispered, more to herself than him.
Daylight
Inch by inch, the passage opened into a ragged exit. Havyn could see a sliver of sky overhead, painted with the gray-pink hues of early dawn. He half-lifted, half-dragged Selene through the last few feet of cramped rock until they tumbled out onto solid earth.
They both collapsed, lungs heaving, hearts pounding. The sky overhead felt impossibly vast after the claustrophobic darkness below. The scent of wet leaves and morning air caressed Havyn's senses, washing away the stink of dust and blood.
For a long moment, neither spoke. They just breathed, letting their bodies settle from the frantic life-or-death struggle. When Havyn finally mustered the energy to lift his head, he saw they were on a wooded hillside, scattered with moss-covered stones. A half-dead tree drooped nearby, its branches blackened as though struck by lightning.
Selene let out a soft, bitter laugh, rolling onto her back to stare at the sky. "We made it."
Havyn crawled to her side, gently touching the wound on her torso. "You're bleeding more than I like."
She grimaced, glancing down. "I'll live. A little warlock magic might help seal it."
He nodded, then winced at a sharp twinge in his ribs. "Let's rest, then figure out our next move."
Selene's eyes flickered with lingering fear. "We escaped them… but they're still out there. And they won't stop until I'm back under their thumb… or dead."
Havyn reached for her hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Then we'll find a way to stop them—for good."
She met his gaze, and for once, the tension in her shoulders eased a fraction. "We?"
"Always," he said, voice low but steady.
Selene closed her eyes, exhaling softly. The morning breeze fluttered her hair, washing away some of the grime. For a moment, Havyn almost believed they could leave the horrors of the Abyss behind.
But the memory of the leader's onyx eyes and that final warning lingered in his mind: You are bound by blood. You can never escape the Abyss.
He silently vowed that, bound or not, he would never let Selene face this alone again.