I stared into the bottomless abyss beneath us, my stomach churning as I tried to process where we were. This wasn't just a chasm—it was a void, stretching in all directions. The golden bridge had disintegrated behind us the moment we'd stepped through, leaving us on a small ledge suspended in absolute nothingness.
"Where are we?" My voice sounded small, swallowed by the vastness around us.
Damian stood at the edge, his face illuminated by an eerie glow that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. "The between-place. The prison of Erebus."
My blood ran cold at the name. Erebus—the ancient god of darkness, imprisoned by the Goddess herself at the beginning of time. The being whose escape would herald the end of everything.
"This can't be real," I whispered, backing away from the edge.
"Oh, it's quite real." Damian's eyes gleamed with a terrible excitement. "And somewhere in this void lies what I seek."
I followed his gaze across the endless expanse. Far in the distance—impossibly far—I could make out what appeared to be a floating island, suspended in the darkness like a forgotten piece of reality.
"There," he pointed. "That's where we'll find the resting place of the Selenias."
My heart skipped a beat. "The resting place? You mean where they're buried?"
He didn't answer, just fixed me with that penetrating stare that made me feel like he was peeling back my skin to examine what lay beneath. "Spread your wings, Princess."
I blinked at him, uncomprehending. "What?"
"Your wings," he repeated impatiently. "The raven's wings. You'll fly us there."
Horror washed over me as I understood. "No. I can't. I've only transformed once—I don't know if I can control it."
"You'll learn quickly," he said, his voice dropping to a dangerous purr. "Or we'll both discover what lies at the bottom of this void."
I shook my head, backing away until I felt the solid wall behind me. "I can't carry you. I'm not strong enough."
"You underestimate the power in your blood," he replied, closing the distance between us. "The same blood that now flows in my veins. You'll manage."
My eyes darted desperately around, looking for any escape, any alternative. "There must be another way—"
"There isn't." His hand shot out, gripping my throat and pinning me against the wall. "Transform. Now."
I clawed at his hand, panic rising as his fingers tightened. "I don't know how! Last time it just... happened!"
His face twisted with annoyance. He released my throat only to grab me by the shoulders, spinning me around to face the void. "Then let me help you."
Without warning, he shoved me forward—right off the edge.
I screamed as I plummeted into the abyss, arms flailing wildly, the wind rushing past me as I fell. Terror seized my heart, my lungs, my very soul.
*I'm going to die. I'm going to die. I'm going to die!*
The panic triggered something deep within me—that primal part that had awakened in the castle dungeons. My shoulder blades burned as if branded by white-hot irons. I screamed again, this time in pain as well as fear, as my skin split open.
The wings erupted from my back in an explosion of darkness, unfurling like massive sails of midnight feathers. They caught the air, jerking me upward with enough force to knock the breath from my lungs. I tumbled, disoriented, my wings beating frantically as I struggled to gain control.
*Down! I'm still falling!*
I managed to twist my body, angling my wings to catch more air. The descent slowed, then stopped. I hung suspended in the void, my heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst, every muscle trembling with effort and fear.
Somehow, I was flying.
I circled back up toward the ledge where I'd left Damian, fury burning away some of my terror. When I reached his height, I saw him watching me with cold calculation, as if I were merely an experiment yielding interesting results.
"You bastard!" I shouted, my voice carrying strangely in the emptiness. "You could have killed me!"
"But I didn't," he replied calmly. "And now you're flying." He held out his arms. "Come. We have a journey to make."
I hovered just out of his reach. "Go to hell."
Something dangerous flickered in his eyes. "Your friends—"
"Are already as good as dead if you're willing to throw me into an abyss!" I shot back. "Why should I believe you'll spare them if I cooperate?"
His lips curved into a cruel smile. "You shouldn't. But what choice do you have?"
I glared at him, knowing he was right. I couldn't leave Regina and Ronan to die. Slowly, I beat my wings and moved closer.
"If I'm going to carry you, you need to cooperate," I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. "Put your arms around my neck and don't struggle."
I expected him to grab me, to maintain his domination. Instead, he surprised me by dissolving before my eyes—his body turning to mist that swirled and coalesced into a dark, vaguely humanoid cloud.
"I'll manage on my own," his voice echoed from the mist. "Follow me."
He streamed away from the ledge, flowing toward the distant island. I hesitated, then began to follow, my massive wings working hard to propel me forward. Flying wasn't natural to me yet—every movement felt awkward, every wingbeat an effort of concentration.
We traveled in silence across the void. The island grew larger as we approached, revealing itself to be larger than it had first appeared—a floating chunk of land perhaps a mile across, covered in what looked like a dense forest of twisted, black trees.
"What is this place?" I called ahead to the mist that was Damian.
"A fragment of the world that existed before ours," his voice replied, eerily disembodied. "A piece of creation that was corrupted by Erebus before his imprisonment. The Goddess sealed it away with him."
A chill ran down my spine. We were approaching something ancient and tainted—something that was never meant to be found again.
As we drew closer, I could see the island more clearly. The trees were like nothing I'd seen before—black as obsidian, with twisted trunks and branches that reached up like grasping hands. No leaves adorned them, yet they weren't dead. They seemed to pulse with a strange, sickly energy.
We passed over the edge of the island, and I felt an immediate change in the air—suddenly thick and heavy, pressing against my wings. I struggled to maintain altitude, my muscles burning with the effort.
Damian's mist form swirled back together, reforming into his body as he landed gracefully on the barren shore of the island. I followed, my landing far less elegant—a stumbling, staggering affair that ended with me on my hands and knees, my wings folding awkwardly behind me.
"Get up," Damian commanded, already striding toward the forest. "We're close."
I staggered to my feet, my legs wobbly from the exertion of flight. My wings hung heavily from my shoulders, and I concentrated on willing them back into my body. The process was painful—a sensation like my skin knitting itself back together—but far less excruciating than their emergence had been.
"What exactly are we looking for?" I asked, hurrying to catch up with him.
"The resting place of the Selenias," he repeated. "Where their power gathers."
"And then what? What do you plan to do with that power?"
He paused, turning to face me. In the strange half-light of this place, his features looked more inhuman than ever—sharp angles and shadows, his eyes gleaming like rubies. "I plan to take what's rightfully mine."
Before I could ask what he meant, he turned away again, continuing toward the forest. "You'll lead the way from here."
"Me? Why me?"
"Because you're a Selenia," he said, as if explaining something to a child. "You'll feel the pull."
I wanted to argue, but as we approached the tree line, I felt it—a strange tugging sensation in my chest, like invisible threads pulling me forward. And voices—thousands of whispered voices, too faint to make out individual words, but all calling to me.
Reluctantly, I moved ahead of Damian, following the pull. The forest closed around us, dark and oppressive. The twisted trees seemed to lean toward us as we passed, their branches swaying despite the absence of wind.
"They're alive," I whispered, flinching as a branch brushed against my arm. "They're watching us."
"Everything here is alive in its own way," Damian replied. "This place exists at the boundary between life and death, reality and nightmare. Don't stop moving."
I pressed on, the voices in my head growing louder with each step. They spoke in a language I didn't understand, yet somehow their meaning seeped into my mind—urgency, warning, desperation.
The path twisted and turned, sometimes vanishing altogether, forcing me to follow nothing but the pull in my chest. Time seemed to stretch and compress strangely here—I couldn't tell if we'd been walking for minutes or hours.
Finally, the trees began to thin. Ahead, I could see a clearing bathed in pale, silvery light. The pull was strongest there, the voices almost deafening in their intensity.
I stepped out of the forest, Damian close behind me. Before us stood the ruins of what must once have been a magnificent structure—white marble columns, now cracked and fallen, arranged in a circle around a central platform. Ancient symbols were carved into every surface, many worn away by time, but some still glowing faintly with an inner light.
In the center of the platform lay a pool of what looked like liquid silver, its surface perfectly still, reflecting the void above like a mirror.
"The Wellspring," Damian breathed, his voice tight with something like reverence. "The source of the Selenias' power." He stepped forward, eyes fixed on the silver pool. "We've found it."
I stood frozen, the voices in my head suddenly silent. The air here felt different—charged with potential, with power. This was a sacred place, I realized. A place of beginnings and endings.
And we were trespassing where mortals were never meant to be.