I barely dodged the spear thrust. My wings snapped backward as I flipped in the air, feeling the rush of wind as the stone weapon missed my stomach by inches.
The guardian moved with terrifying speed for something made of stone. Before I could right myself, her massive hand clamped around my ankle, yanking me downward with brutal force. My wings flapped frantically, but her grip was like iron—cold, unyielding, merciless.
"You are not worthy," she growled, swinging me like a rag doll.
My body slammed against a marble column. The impact knocked the air from my lungs and sent pain lancing through my ribs. I couldn't even scream—just gasp silently as I slid down the smooth surface, wings crumpling beneath me.
Across the chamber, Damian fought his own desperate battle against three stone guardians. Dark magic crackled between his fingers as he hurled bolt after bolt at his attackers, but his power seemed to fade with each attack. These sacred grounds weakened him, while the guardians only grew stronger, feeding off the energy of the Heart.
"Get up!" he roared at me, blood streaming from a gash on his forehead. "Take the Heart before it's too late!"
I struggled to my feet, wings dragging behind me. The guardian who had thrown me was already advancing, spear ready, her stone eyes glowing with crimson fire.
"I don't want to fight you," I pleaded, hands raised. "I am one of you—a Selenia!"
"You serve the betrayer," she responded, her voice like grinding stone. "You come to take what is not yours to claim."
"I have no choice!" I cried, desperation clawing at my throat. "He'll kill my friends!"
The guardian paused, her head tilting slightly. For a moment, I thought I'd gotten through to her. Then her grip tightened on her spear.
"Sacrifice is our legacy," she intoned. "Personal loss for greater good."
She lunged again, and this time I was ready. I pushed off with my wings, shooting upward toward the vaulted ceiling. The guardian's spear stabbed empty air where I had been standing. I circled above her, frantically searching for an opening, some way past her to reach the Heart.
But she wasn't alone. The massive statue that had held the Heart—my mother's stone likeness—was moving now too, climbing down from her perch with terrible purpose. Eight feet tall and impossibly strong, she reached for me as I flew past, her stone fingers grazing the tip of my wing.
"Please!" I begged, swooping to avoid her grasp. "Mother, if any part of you is in there, listen to me!"
The statue showed no recognition, no hesitation. Just the relentless pursuit of an intruder in sacred space.
I dove toward the fountain, hoping to reach the Heart before the guardians could stop me. The blood lake churned beneath me, responding to my presence, reaching up with crimson tendrils as if trying to help or hinder—I couldn't tell which.
The first guardian's spear whistled past my ear, close enough that I felt it ruffle my hair. I tucked my wings and rolled in midair, changing direction sharply. The maneuver worked—I evaded the spear—but left me vulnerable to the second guardian.
Stone fingers closed around my wing, crushing feathers. Pain shot through me as she yanked me downward. I cried out, twisting in her grip, feeling the delicate bones in my wing bend to their breaking point. With my free hand, I clawed at her stone wrist, but it was like scratching at a mountain.
"Mother, please!" I screamed, looking up into the emotionless face of the statue that bore my mother's likeness. "It's me! Your daughter!"
No recognition flickered in those hollow stone eyes. She raised her free hand, forming a fist the size of my head, ready to bring it down upon me.
In that moment, something broke inside me—not my body, but something deeper. The last fragile hope that somewhere in this stone sentinel was the mother I'd never known, the woman who had loved me enough to send me away for my own protection.
"I'm sorry," I whispered, tears streaming down my face. "I failed you."
I closed my eyes, waiting for the crushing blow.
It never came.
Instead, a voice thundered through the chamber—Damian's voice, but changed, deeper, filled with ancient power.
"ENOUGH!"
My eyes snapped open. Damian stood at the edge of the blood lake, his body transformed. The wounds inflicted by the guardians had vanished. His muscles bulged beneath his skin, veins protruding, pulsing with dark energy. His eyes were no longer just red but burning like twin suns, and when he smiled, his fangs extended past his chin, impossibly long and sharp.
In his hand, he held a small vial—empty now, the contents clearly consumed.
"What have you done?" I whispered, horror crawling up my spine.
The guardian holding me suddenly released my wing. I dropped several feet before catching myself, hovering unsteadily on injured pinions. Around the chamber, all the stone sentinels had frozen, their attention fixed solely on Damian.
"I've taken what was rightfully mine," he answered, his voice resonating unnaturally. "The blood of the Spectral King."
I felt my heart stop. The ancient evil my ancestors had imprisoned—the darkness they had sacrificed everything to contain. Damian had somehow obtained its blood, consumed its power.
"No," I breathed. "You can't control that power. No one can."
He laughed, the sound like breaking glass. "Watch me."
Damian extended his hand toward the nearest guardian. She shuddered, then stepped toward him, her movements no longer her own.
"Come," he commanded. "All of you."
One by one, the stone guardians abandoned their posts. They moved as if entranced, walking steadily toward Damian, answering his call. Even the massive statue of my mother released me completely, turning away to join the procession.
"Stop!" I cried, flying after her. "Mother, don't listen to him! Fight it!"
She paid me no heed, continuing her inexorable march toward Damian.
I landed in front of her, wings spread wide, blocking her path. "Please," I begged, looking up into that stone face—my mother's face. "If any part of you remembers me, don't do this. Don't go to him."
For a fleeting second, I thought I saw something flicker in those hollow eyes—a brief spark of recognition, of awareness.
"Mama," I whispered, the childish word escaping before I could stop it.
Her stone hand shot out, closing around my throat. She lifted me effortlessly, my feet dangling above the ground, wings beating uselessly against the air. Her grip tightened, crushing my windpipe, cutting off my air.
I clawed at her fingers, panic rising as my lungs burned for oxygen. Black spots danced at the edges of my vision. My wings slowed, strength fading.
Through the roaring in my ears, I heard my pendant whisper—that ancient voice, stronger now than ever before.
"Daughter of my daughter," it murmured. "She cannot resist his call, but she knows you. Speak her name."
With the last of my breath, I forced out a single word: "Mom."
The guardian's grip faltered. Something shifted in those stone eyes—confusion, recognition, pain. Her fingers loosened just enough for me to gasp a thin stream of air.
"Mom," I wheezed again, tears streaming down my face. "It's me. Seraphina."
The stone face cracked—not physically, but emotionally. The mask of the guardian slipped, revealing something underneath—something human, something agonized.
"Sera...phina?" The voice was different now—softer, questioning, fighting through layers of enchantment.
"Yes," I nodded frantically, hope surging through me despite the pain. "Your daughter. You gave me away to protect me, remember? You told me to remember who I am."
Her grip loosened further. She lowered me slowly until my feet touched the ground, though her hand remained around my throat—not choking now, but holding, as if afraid I might disappear.
"My... child," she whispered, the words grinding painfully from stone lips.
I reached up, placing my palm against her cold cheek. "Yes. I've come back to you. Just like you wanted."
Something wet glistened on the stone face—impossible tears from eyes that shouldn't be able to cry.
"How... beautiful... you've become."
I sobbed, my heart breaking and healing all at once. "I found you. After all this time, I found you."
For a precious moment, we stood there—mother and daughter, separated by death and stone, yet connected by blood and memory.
Then Damian's voice shattered the fragile peace.
"SERAPHINA! TO ME!"
My mother's head snapped toward him, her eyes emptying again, the brief spark of humanity fading like a candle blown out by a cruel wind.
"No!" I grabbed her arm. "Mother, stay with me! Fight him!"
But she was already moving, pulled by Damian's command. She shook me off as easily as swatting a fly, sending me stumbling backward.
"Mom!" I screamed, scrambling after her. "Please! Don't leave me again!"
She didn't turn, didn't hesitate. She marched steadily toward Damian, joining the other guardians who now surrounded him like an honor guard, their stone faces blank and obedient.
I fell to my knees, watching helplessly as my mother—or what remained of her—pledged herself to the very evil she had once fought against.
Damian's triumphant laugh echoed through the chamber. "The Heart is unguarded," he called to me. "Take it now, or watch your friends die."
I looked up at the fountain where the Heart of the Selenias still pulsed, crimson and powerful, no longer protected by its guardians.
Everything had gone wrong. My mother—returned to me for just a heartbeat—was now enslaved by Damian's stolen power. The ancient guardians had fallen. And I was left alone, facing an impossible choice.
"Choose, Seraphina," Damian demanded, his new power making the very air around him shimmer. "The Heart or your friends' lives."
I staggered to my feet, wings drooping with exhaustion and despair. My mother stood motionless beside him, her stone back to me, any trace of recognition erased by Damian's command.
With a broken sob, I turned toward the fountain. The Heart awaited, its power mine for the taking.
If only my own heart wasn't shattering into a thousand pieces.