Chapter 164 CHAPTER 164

Chapter 164 CHAPTER 164
The darkness beyond the archway didn’t move again. Elara tightened her hold on Talia, feeling the small tremor running through her. Kaelan stepped forward automatically, Darius and Raven moved up beside him, while Saphira and Lyra stayed beside Elara and Talia.

For a long moment, no one spoke. Then there was a flicker of light, and three figures stood together, their outlines wavering in the half‑light.

Elara’s breath caught as she caught a glimpse of them. The Elders were nothing like what she had imagined. They looked almost ordinary, pale, tired, and fragile. Their eyes were wide, and they looked frightened.

Kaelan lowered his stance slightly, and Raven eased her magic back. No one rushed forward or spoke. They simply watched the figures watching them.

Finally, Elara took a breath. “We should go in.”

Kaelan nodded once. “Stay behind me.”

Together, they stepped through the archway, Kaelan, Darius, and Raven taking the lead.

The darkness opened into a wide chamber, warmer than the small corridor and lit by soft, pulsing light along the stone walls. The Elders were seated in a loose circle at the centre of the room, their posture cautious but not hostile. They looked up as the group entered, their expressions shifting between confusion and fear.

One of them, a woman with long, braided silver hair, stepped forward. Her hands were raised in a gesture of peace, though they trembled slightly.

“Please,” she said, her voice soft and wavering. “Do not be alarmed. We mean you no harm.”

Kaelan spoke first. “You called out to us, to Talia.”

The woman shook her head quickly, her expression tightening with fear. “No. We have not reached beyond these walls in a long time.”

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Something spoke out to us, it led us here, to you.”

A ripple of unease passed through the Elders. They exchanged fearful glances, uncertain about what Raven was saying.

The silver‑haired woman spoke again. “We didn’t call out to anyone, or lead anyone to us.”

Elara felt Talia flinch in her arms. “Then who was it?” Talia asked.

The woman’s gaze drifted to Talia, and her breath caught sharply. “Oh… child…”

The other two Elders stepped closer, their expressions shifting from fear to shock. Their eyes widened as they took in the faint markings along Talia’s skin, the ones that glowed whenever the seed stirred.

One whispered, “The markings. She bears the markings.”

Then the other murmured, “Circe’s design. It must be.”

Elara tilted her head slightly. “You recognise them?”

The silver‑haired woman nodded slowly. “We do. Those markings were forbidden long before any of you were born.”

Raven stepped forward, her brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

The Elders hesitated, as though the truth itself was dangerous to speak. Finally, the woman drew a slow, steadying breath. “Circe broke ancient laws,” she said. “She created seeds that were never meant to exist. Seeds that bind life to life, magic to magic, soul to soul. She was warned. She was told the consequences. But she did not listen.”

Elara felt Talia tremble. “What consequences?”

The woman’s eyes softened. “The seeds were unstable. They were never meant to be placed in children. In fact, they were never meant to be placed in anyone.”

Saphira stepped forward next. “Then why did she do it?”

“Power,” the woman whispered. “And fear. Circe believed the world was changing too quickly, that the balance of magic was shifting beyond her control. She sought to create a new generation of Elders, ones bound to her, ones she could shape.”

Raven’s jaw tightened. “She wanted to control you.”

“Yes,” the woman said. “And she nearly succeeded, but something changed recently.”

“What do you mean?” Kaelan asked.

The second Elder exhaled slowly, his voice rough. “The chamber used to pulse with power. It fed us. Built us. Forced us toward something we did not want to become. Every day, the pressure grew.”

The third Elder nodded, his expression tight. “The symbols on the walls, they were bright, strong, and they would push at us constantly. We could feel ourselves changing, growing into something Circe designed.”

The silver-haired Elder’s voice dropped to a whisper. “But weeks ago, the pulse dimmed. The pressure stopped. The magic… stalled. It was as if the chamber went still.”

The second Elder looked toward the walls, his expression conflicted, almost haunted. “We do not know why. One day it was suffocating us, the next… silence.”

The third Elder added quietly, “We thought perhaps the chamber was failing. Or that Circe had altered the spell. Or that something worse was coming.”

Elara suddenly realised the reason it all changed. “It changed because Circe is dead.”

Silence fell over the chamber. The three Elders stared at her, shock rippling across their faces. The silver-haired woman covered her mouth with her hand, her breath catching. The second Elder's eyes widened, disbelief and relief warring in his expression.

The third elder's composure cracked for the first time, his voice barely audible. “Dead?” he whispered. “Truly?”

Elara nodded once. “She’s gone.”

The silver-haired Elder closed her eyes, a trembling breath escaping her. “That… makes sense. The pulse, the stillness… the magic was tied to her. If she is gone, the spell would falter.”

The second Elder stepped forward, hope flickering in his expression for the first time. “If she is gone… does that mean we can be freed?”

Kaelan moved slightly in front of Elara. “Freed?”

“From her design. From the magic she forced into us. From the path she carved without our consent.” He responded.

The silver-haired woman nodded, her eyes glistening. “We did not choose this; we were taken. She chose us, a witch, a wolf, a vampire, because we were the strongest she found. Her new generation of Elders under her control.”

Talia’s breath hitched, and Elara held her closer.

Kaelan’s voice deepened, anger simmering beneath the surface. “She chose you?”

“She chose us,” the second Elder said. “Stole us from our lives.”

The third Elder’s voice cracked. “We have been trapped here ever since, waiting for this, whatever it is, to finish.”

The silver-haired Elder looked at Elara with a mixture of desperation and fragile hope. “If Circe is dead… does that mean the spell can break? Does that mean we can be freed from this fate?”

Elara opened her mouth, but Raven stepped forward first.

“It cannot be stopped so easily,” Raven said, her face grim.

The Elders froze. Then the second Elder’s voice dropped to a growl. “What do you mean?”

Raven’s gaze drifted to the glowing symbols along the walls, then to Talia, then to the second archway pulsing faintly in the distance. “Circe may be dead… but the magic she created is not.”

The silver-haired Elder shook her head. “But if she is gone…”

“Her magic lives on,” Raven said. “In the seeds, in the symbols, even in this chamber she built. Death does not undo what she created.”

The third Elder stepped back, fear creeping into his expression. “Then what happens to us?”

Raven didn’t answer right away, but when she did, her voice dropped to a whisper.

“We have to end the cycle Circe started.”