The God Witch Awaits

End of The Journey
The vortex howled like a thousand screaming winds, its swirling maw threatening to consume everything in its path. Selene stood only a few feet from its mouth, her boots digging into the earth as shadow flared from her fingertips. Her replica grinned maliciously from the other side, one hand raised, fingers twitching as it held the vortex steady.

Selene’s jaw tightened. She didn’t wait. She raised her hand and, with a flick of her wrist, conjured a blade of pure shadow and hurled it forward.

The shadow blade sliced through the air with deadly precision and struck the replica’s outstretched arm. A sickening crunch echoed throughout the forest as the limb was severed at the elbow. The hand fell, still twitching, and the vortex vanished with an earsplitting shoom.

The replica screamed, a wail so sharp it pierced the skull. Selene didn’t flinch.

“Arkana Miri’Zon!” she shouted.

In a flash, a shadow portal materialized beneath the replica’s feet. It stumbled, shrieking, but gravity won. It dropped, flailing wildly. Just as its head began to fall in, Selene closed her fist and the portal snapped shut, severing the head.

Another portal burst open above the battlefield and the headless body tumbled from it, thudding against the earth in a graceless heap. The flesh began to crack, splintering like old porcelain until the body and severed head shattered into a million glimmering shards that clinked as they scattered across the ground.

Selene exhaled. One down.

Maelis’s knees buckled. The serpent replica, formed of magic, coiled tighter around her lion. The beast let out a strangled roar as the boa's grip closed around its neck.

Her eyes were slowly dimming. Air was becoming a memory. But before the final squeeze could crush the lion’s windpipe—

A shadow blade whistled through the air and sliced clean through the boa’s head. It crumpled, loosening in an instant. The lion dropped, gasping, before dissolving into glimmers of gold and retreating back into Maelis’s staff.

Maelis scrambled to her feet, coughing.

Selene didn’t hesitate. Her hands moved swiftly, and a pulse of shadow magic surged forth like a tidal wave. It struck Maelis’s replica straight in the chest.

A gaping hole ripped through its torso. The replica stared down in confusion before it, too, shattered.

Selene jogged over, offering Maelis a hand.

“Don’t tell me I look as bad as I feel,” Maelis rasped, accepting the help.

“I wasn’t going to say it,” Selene said with a faint smile.

Elsewhere, the ground trembled as Idris’s body convulsed within a tomb of stone. The hardened earth threatened to swallow him whole. He growled, reaching deep into the core of his magic. With a grunt, he pushed out a wave of energy, transforming the stone into thick mud.

With a roar, he clawed free.

His replica turned to react—but a torrent of fire slammed into it. Idris stood, eyes blazing. The replica raised a watery shield just in time to stop the flames, but Idris was faster.

With a stomp of his foot, the ground split and sharp, jagged rocks erupted like teeth. They impaled the replica clean through. It didn’t even scream before it shattered.

Idris, panting and covered in mud, collapsed to the ground to catch his breath.

Morgan’s hand trembled as blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. His replica loomed above him, sword raised. But just as the blade began to descend, Morgan’s fingers closed around the hilt of his own sword.

CLANG!

Steel clashed and the sound rang out like a gong. With a fierce growl, Morgan kicked his replica square in the chest. It staggered. He spun and drove his sword into its gut.

SHICK!

The body split and shattered, glittering fragments catching in the faint light.

Maelis and the others regrouped, surrounded by fragments of their defeated selves.

“Is everyone okay?” Morgan asked, wiping blood from his lip.

Maelis, red-faced and still rubbing her bruised throat, glared. “Do we look okay to you?”

“I was being polite,” Morgan muttered.

Selene exhaled. “That was really, really close.”

Maelis pointed at the ground with a grunt. “We should rest. Five minutes. Just five.”

Idris shook his head. “No. We should at least get out of this cursed mirror forest first. Resting here is practically begging for round two.”

“Yeah, on second thought you're actually right.” Maelis muttered.

They started walking.

A couple of hours later, the forest changed back to normal. The warped mirror glimmers faded into twisted tree trunks and unnatural shadows. They were no longer in the mirrored part—but the eerie silence clung to the air.

Idris and Maelis were mid-bicker.

“Do you ever admit when you’re wrong?” Idris asked, stepping over a gnarled root.

“I’d admit it,” Maelis said with a dramatic hair flip, “if I ever were wrong.”

“You almost choked to death, Maelis.”

“You’re so insufferable!”

Selene froze. “You guys… look!”

Everyone stopped.

“What?” Morgan asked.

Selene pointed ahead. Through the trees, something shimmered—a soft glow.

They moved as one, quickening their pace. The path opened into a lush clearing.

Vines curled around themselves, looping like serpents through the air, and dozens of glowing flowers pulsed like living embers.

“The Varae Bloom,” Maelis whispered.

Without hesitation, she plucked several blossoms, carefully tucking them into her satchel.

Up ahead, a rusted gate stood nestled between two trees, vines curling through its bars. Glowing runes shimmered faintly along the metal.

The gate creaked open.

Sunlight spilled through. Birds chirped. Grass swayed gently beyond.

“We’ve made it!” Idris shouted. “We made it to the end!”

Overjoyed, he turned and hugged Maelis, spinning her in the air and kissing her cheek before realizing what he was doing.

Maelis froze.

Then she pushed him across the face.

“Ugh! Gross!” She rubbed her cheek with his shirt sleeve, gagging. “Don’t ever do that again!”

Idris, sprawled on the ground, groaned. “You’re welcome.”

“We’ve reached the end... but where’s Darius?” Selene asked in a quiet voice.

Everyone froze.

Maelis turned slowly. Her voice came out shaky. “What if he—”

“No,” Idris cut in. “Don’t say it.”

“Guys?” Morgan said.

They turned to him. He stood near the gate, crouched. His fingers slowly lifted something from the ground.

A sword.

Immediately, they all recognized it.

Darius’s sword.