Chapter 157: Descent into the Cradle Peaks

Chapter 157: Descent into the Cradle Peaks
The mountains swallowed the light.

As we passed beneath the jagged stone arch that marked the threshold of the Cradle Peaks, the sunlight behind us faded like a dying ember. Even the wind hesitated here, brushing against our cloaks as if in warning before vanishing altogether. It felt like we’d crossed from the world we knew into something older. Wilder.

Alec rode beside me, his wolf just beneath the surface, ever-alert. Behind us, Daria scanned every shadow, while Logan kept his hand near his blade. Seris brought up the rear, whispering soft incantations that left a faint shimmer in the air behind us. Protective spells. Wards.

None of it eased the tight knot forming in my gut.

The deeper we rode, the more the air changed. It was heavier, cooler—tinged with something metallic. Magic. Old magic. And beneath it all was a vibration I couldn’t quite explain. Not a sound. Not a movement. Just a presence. Like we were being watched by the mountain itself.

“This place remembers,” Seris whispered after several hours of silence.

I looked back at her. “Remembers what?”

“Everything. Every seal that was made. Every battle that was lost. Every death.”

I didn’t ask how she knew.

We made camp that night in a hollowed-out stone alcove halfway up the mountain’s spine. The fire we built barely kept the cold at bay, and I swore the walls pulsed faintly with residual magic. Alec stood watch, his silhouette tall and silent against the firelight. I lay curled in my bedroll, staring at the jagged stone ceiling and wondering if I’d ever see the sky again.

“Can’t sleep?” Alec’s voice was low.

I sat up slowly, wrapping the thick wool blanket tighter around my shoulders. “Not really.”

He motioned me over. “Come here.”

I didn’t hesitate.

I slid across the stone floor and sat beside him. His warmth seeped into me immediately, grounding me in a way nothing else could. I leaned into his side, and he wrapped his arm around me.

“I don’t like this place,” I admitted quietly.

“Neither do I.”

“But you’re not afraid.”

He looked down at me, his jaw tense. “I am. But fear doesn’t mean you stop moving. It means you keep going even when everything in you wants to run.”

I let the silence linger between us for a while. Then, softly, “If something happens down there—if I lose myself—”

“I’ll bring you back,” he said firmly.

I turned to him. “And if you can’t?”

His eyes darkened. “Then I’ll follow you.”

My throat tightened, and I pressed my forehead to his chest. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is fate.”

We continued our descent at dawn.

The path narrowed as the mountain closed around us, forcing us to dismount and lead the horses. Eventually, even the horses couldn’t follow. We left them tethered in a sheltered alcove with heavy hearts and heavy gear, venturing onward on foot.

The walls grew slick with condensation, the air filled with the scent of stone, moss, and something… sour. Wrong. It clung to the edges of every breath I took.

After a time, the tunnel split.

One path led deeper, marked with ancient glyphs and the faint shimmer of warding spells. The other descended into shadow, untouched and raw.

Seris paused. “We take the marked path.”

“Why not the other?” Logan asked.

“Because the Firstborn left protections for their line,” she said, glancing at me. “And Evelyn is that line.”

I stepped forward, and the glyphs sparked beneath my feet.

The path accepted me.

Hours passed. Or maybe days. It was hard to tell in the suffocating dark. Our lanterns flickered, magic-infused, but even their light felt dimmer here.

Eventually, we reached a vast underground chamber.

It opened like a yawning cathedral, the stone carved by nature and ancient hands. Pillars of glowing crystal pulsed from the floor to the ceiling, casting a ghostly light over the space. And in the center…

A pool of black water.

Still.

Silent.

Waiting.

Seris stepped forward, eyes wide. “This is it. The Reflection Pool. The last gateway.”

“Gateway to what?” Daria asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“To the Hollowed Veil,” I said before I even understood the words.

The knowledge rose in me like a tide.

This was the place the Firstborn sealed the entity beneath the world.

And now, it was stirring again.

Suddenly, the ground quaked beneath us.

Not a tremor.

A heartbeat.

Then a voice.

It didn’t come from around us.

It came from inside us.

You carry the seal. But will you carry the burden?

I fell to my knees, clutching my chest as the mark seared.

Alec caught me, his voice distant and distorted. “Evelyn!”

The pool rippled.

And then, something rose from it.

Not a monster.

A memory.

A projection.

A woman in silver armor, her eyes mirrors of my own. She looked right at me, sadness etched into her ethereal face.

“You are the final hope,” she said. “The fifth seal is not a weapon. It is a choice. One that can only be made willingly. Should you choose to bear it fully, you will become the gate. The tether. The last ward.”

My voice trembled. “And if I refuse?”

“Then the Veil will fall. And nothing will stop what comes through.”

The vision began to fade.

Alec’s hand tightened around mine. “We’ll find another way.”

But even as he said it, we both knew.

There was no other way.