Chapter 116 Fragments of the past

Chapter 116 Fragments of the past
Author's Pov

Joyce sobbed quietly on the cold dungeon floor, her knees pulled against her chest as she tried to steady her trembling body. The black magic inside her had become almost impossible to control, crawling through her veins in violent waves and clouding her thoughts until she could barely tell where her own mind ended and the darkness began. Every breath felt heavy, and no matter how tightly she closed her eyes, she could still feel something sinister moving beneath her skin.

The heavy dungeon door suddenly opened, and Joyce slowly lifted her head. Caven stepped inside with several guards behind him, his expression calm enough to make the fear twisting inside her stomach even worse. He looked around the dungeon as though he had simply come to check on something that belonged to him, and then his eyes settled on her.

"It has been long overdue," Caven said quietly.

Joyce stared at him through tear-filled eyes, struggling to understand what he meant. She wanted to ask him what he was talking about, but her throat felt dry and her body was too weak to respond properly. Caven seemed completely unaffected by her condition as he turned toward the guards and gave them a cold glance.

"Most of you can leave."

The guards immediately obeyed, filing out of the dungeon until only the strongest remained. Joyce's heart began pounding harder when she noticed that the men Caven had kept behind were much larger and more heavily armed than the others. Whatever he was planning, he clearly did not want anyone interfering with it.

Then the witches entered.

Joyce's breathing caught in her throat as she recognized the dark robes and strange markings covering their faces. They carried bowls filled with unfamiliar powders and herbs, along with a large glass jar covered in ancient symbols that seemed to shift whenever the candlelight touched them. Joyce's fingers curled against the stone floor as an awful feeling settled in her chest.

Caven turned toward the witches.

"You know what I want."

One of the older witches lowered her head. "Yes, my Lord."

"Then do it."

The witch hesitated for only a second before stepping forward, her eyes moving toward Joyce. Caven walked toward the center of the dungeon and pointed at the glass jar the witch carried, his voice becoming colder with every word.

"Extract every bit of her power. I don't want what remains after the ritual, and I don't want any of it wasted. Everything that comes out of her belongs in that jar."

Joyce's blood ran cold.

"What are you talking about?"

Caven glanced at her.

Joyce swallowed painfully and tried to push herself upright, but her arms shook beneath her weight. "What are you going to do to me?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Why do you keep doing this?"

Caven studied her for a moment before slowly walking closer.

"What have I ever done to you?" Joyce asked, tears slipping down her cheeks. "Why is this happening to me? So you are truly evil like elara had said!!!"

Caven crouched in front of her, bringing his face level with hers. Instead of answering, he smiled, and the sight of it made Joyce's stomach twist.

"Calm down," he murmured.

"How can you tell me to calm down when you're about to do something to me? I thought you weren't evil. So you've been playing with my mind all these while."

Caven's smile widened as a low, wicked laugh escaped him. "You won't feel so hurt once this is over, Joyce, so stop fighting something you cannot prevent."

Joyce stared at him in horror. "What does that mean?"

"You'll find out soon enough."

Something inside Joyce snapped.

She pushed herself from the floor and tried to stand, desperation giving her strength that she did not know she still possessed. "No!" she screamed, trying to pull away when the guards rushed toward her. "I won't let you do this to me!"

Two guards seized her arms before she could get more than a step away. Joyce kicked and twisted violently, but their grip only became tighter as they forced her back against the stone wall.

"Let me go!"

Caven's expression hardened.

"Chain her."

The guards dragged her wrists toward the iron rings fixed into the wall while Joyce fought with everything she had left. The cold metal closed around her wrists first, then her ankles, leaving her almost completely helpless as the chains rattled with every desperate movement. She pulled against them until her skin burned, but nothing gave.

"Please," she cried, looking toward Caven. "Don't do this."

Caven did not answer.

The witches began preparing the ritual around her, placing candles at specific points on the floor before drawing a wide circle of black powder around Joyce. The glass jar was placed directly in front of her, and the strange symbols carved into it began to glow faintly as the witches took their positions. Joyce stared at it, unable to shake the feeling that something terrible was waiting inside that glass.

Then the chanting began.

At first, the words were so quiet that Joyce could barely hear them. The voices seemed to blend together, forming a low, unnatural sound that made the hairs on her arms rise, but as the chanting grew louder, the black magic inside her suddenly reacted.

Joyce gasped.

Dark veins spread beneath the skin of her arms as the magic surged through her body. Her back arched against the wall, and a scream tore from her throat as the witches continued their chant without stopping.

"Stop!" Joyce cried. "Please, stop!"

The chanting only grew louder.

Her vision began to blur, and the room seemed to sway around her. Caven's face became nothing more than a dark shape in the distance while the candles stretched into strange streaks of light, and Joyce felt herself slipping somewhere she could no longer reach.

Then she heard a voice.

Joyce.

Her eyes fluttered open.

She looked around the dungeon, but nobody had spoken.

Joyce, listen to me.

Her heart suddenly pounded.

"Elara?"

The guards looked at one another, but Caven's attention immediately snapped toward her. Joyce barely noticed him because the voice inside her head had become clearer, softer, and strangely familiar.

Fight it.

Joyce's eyes filled with tears.

"I don't know how."

You have to.

The moment she heard those words, something inside her mind cracked open.

A strange image appeared.

Two tiny babies lay side by side beneath a white blanket.

Joyce stared at them in confusion as the vision shifted closer. The babies were almost identical, their tiny faces peaceful as they slept beside each other, and although Joyce knew she had never seen them before, something deep inside her chest tightened at the sight.

Then the image changed.

A woman and a man stood over the babies, bending down with warm smiles on their faces. The woman's hand gently touched one tiny head while the man leaned closer to both children, and there was something about the scene that filled Joyce with a strange ache she could not explain.

The vision disappeared before she could understand it.

Another one replaced it.

Two little girls were running through a field, their laughter echoing through the air. They looked almost exactly alike, their faces still too young to fully understand the strange power surrounding them, but their hands were clasped tightly together as if neither girl could imagine standing without the other.

The image blurred.

Joyce saw the girls again, this time older.

They stood side by side wearing dark hoodies, their hair whipping around them as an enormous force radiated from their bodies. Strange light and energy surrounded them, swirling violently around their feet and climbing toward the sky while the girls stared at each other with identical expressions of determination.

Joyce's breath caught.
She didn't know these girls.
She had never met them.
And yet it felt like she knew them.

Another fragment flashed before her eyes, showing the two girls standing back to back as their powers erupted around them. One seemed surrounded by a brilliant energy while darkness curled around the other, and despite the difference between them, the two forces seemed connected by something invisible.

Then the vision vanished.

Joyce cried out as she returned to the dungeon.

"Elara..."

Her voice broke on the name.

She didn't understand where the images had come from or why the sight of those two babies had made her heart hurt so badly. She only knew that somewhere inside those strange memories was a truth she had been fighting against for longer than she could remember.

We're sisters.

Elara's voice came again.

Joyce squeezed her eyes shut.

The black magic surged violently through her body, trying to drown the voice out. She felt it clawing through her thoughts, forcing her memories back into darkness, but this time she refused to surrender.

The witches continued chanting.

The jar began to glow.

Caven stepped closer, watching the dark energy gather around Joyce's body with renewed interest. "Keep going," he ordered, his eyes fixed on the magic. "Don't stop until every last trace of her power is inside that jar."

Joyce shook her head.

"No."

One of the witches glanced at Caven nervously.

Joyce pulled against her chains again, but this time she wasn't fighting blindly. She could feel something inside her responding to the voice in her head, something ancient and powerful that had been buried beneath the darkness for far too long.

Fight it, Joyce.

She remembered the two babies.

The woman and the man smiling over them.

The two little girls running together.

The girls in the hoodies, standing side by side as their powers exploded around them.

And finally, she remembered Elara standing in front of her, tears in her eyes as the guards dragged her away.

"I'm here, Joyce."

Joyce's tears fell freely.

"So am I."

The black magic suddenly erupted from her body.

The witches screamed as the force knocked several candles from the floor. The glass jar trembled violently, its symbols glowing brighter and brighter until a sharp crack appeared across its surface.

Caven's smile disappeared.

"What is happening?"

The witches continued chanting desperately, but their voices were swallowed by the roar of magic filling the dungeon. Joyce pulled against the chains as the darkness around her began twisting into something none of them could control.

Another crack appeared across the jar.

Then another.

Caven stepped backward.

For the first time since entering the dungeon, fear appeared in his eyes.

"Stop her!"

But nobody could.

The jar shattered.

And at the exact same moment, somewhere inside the palace, Elara suddenly felt something explode inside her chest.