Chapter 51: Chapter 51

IRIS

This time, the portal was completely different.

We felt the difference from the very first step. No dazzling play of colors, no shimmering tangle of light—only an impenetrable, engulfing darkness.

It enveloped us immediately, cold and heavy, as if it were pulling us into another world. But fortunately, the transition only lasted a few seconds.

We soon emerged on the other side and, as always, the exit was far more difficult than the entrance. It felt as if we had to fight our way through invisible veils, as if the world were reluctant to let us go.

“Watch your step,” Aidan said as the portal closed behind us.

The forest was like a dream, and if I hadn’t felt Ava’s hand in mine, I would have thought I was trapped in one.

An endless sea of ancient trees towered in front of us, their trunks rising like pillars of a forgotten cathedral. Moss, dark as velvet, enveloped their gnarled branches, while the canopy shimmered in a thousand shades of green—sometimes emerald and translucent, sometimes deep like blackish reed water.

The trunks stood as close together as if they had grown into each other over centuries, an impenetrable wall of wood and life. And yet there was no life there, at least none that showed itself.

Not a rustle, not a birdcall, not even the hum of an insect. The silence was so complete that it almost rumbled, as if the forest had held its breath.

But it was not dead. No, it was awake.

A light breeze brushed across the narrow path in front of us, lifting wilted leaves in swirling spirals. The leaves danced as if breathed upon, as if the forest itself were watching us, inviting us to wander deeper into it.

And there was darkness over everything. Not night, not evening, but something ancient lurking between the trunks.

Something that was already there, long before people ever set foot on these paths. Something that waited.

“Whatever you see... remember it’s just an illusion,” Aidan warned us.

“I don’t see shit,” Ava replied.

My gaze slid over the endless trees, as if this place were just forest. I couldn’t see anything else even in the distance.

“I can’t use my powers here… so watch your thoughts,” Aidan said softly.

We both turned to face him, eyes wide.

“What do you mean?” Ava asked him.

He tried to activate his aura, but his purple light went out immediately every time he did.

“When I stepped through the portal, I immediately wanted to protect myself… I didn’t even know it was a fear of mine to be without powers. So be careful… it digs in your head and searches… even things you don’t know about yourself,” Aidan explained.

My fear for my brother choked me until I could hardly breathe. I should never have brought him.

He was defenseless—an easy prey in this nightmare of roots and shadows.

Suddenly, the whispering of the wind intensified, as if the forest were picking up my thoughts and using them against me. More and more voices joined in, a tangle of hissing and threats aimed directly at my brother.

~He’ll be the first…, We’ll tear him apart…, Can you hear how he’ll scream?~

“Iris!” Aidan’s voice snapped me out of the cruel chorus.

I spun around and the voices fell silent immediately. The silence was almost worse.

His eyes spoke volumes. We’d underestimated the forest.

It wasn’t a place. It was a creature. And it was lying in wait for any weak thought, any crack in our concentration, to nestle in.

“As long as you keep your heads clear, we’ll be safe,” Aidan said in a husky voice.

“So focus. Don’t think about anything. Feel nothing.”

Ava suddenly stood bolt upright, her body tensed like a taut string. Her eyes, wide open, stared into nothingness… as if she were seeing something we couldn’t see.

“Bael…,” she whispered, and it didn’t sound like her own voice. Too soft. Too sweet.

Like the giggle of a child in the dark.

Then, without warning, her stare dissolved into frantic movement. She turned abruptly towards the forest, her breathing rapid and shallow.

“Bael!” she called louder this time, almost desperately, and then she ran.

Her steps were unnatural, as if she were stumbling and yet not falling, as if something were pulling her forward. The branches seemed to part for her, the moss-covered ground swallowing every sound.

In seconds, she had disappeared between the trees—not like someone fleeing, but like someone who had been called.

And then… silence. No rustling. No last scream. Only the forest, which seemed to hear us breathing.

“Damn it,” Aidan cursed as we ran after her.

We rushed after Ava, but the forest fought back. Branches hit us in the face as if on purpose. Roots clawed at our ankles as if they were trying to bring us down.

The forest was against us. It lived against us.

Aidan struggled on, despite his lost strength. His breath came in gasps, but he tore gaps in the green thicket while I clung to his robe.

I could not let go. If I let go, the forest would engulf me.

My gaze remained fixed on the ground, but then the moss changed under my feet. It became hard, cold, and wet. I froze in place.

Blood.

The entire path was suddenly flooded with it, a shiny, dark stream running between sharp stones.

“It’s all in your head, Iris!” Aidan shouted.

He saw it. The forest was toying with us. It searched for our fears, for the images that would break us.

I lifted my gaze—and the world melted away.

The tree trunks blurred, stretched, until suddenly I was facing myself. My very own image.

Blood was dripping from her hands, her face smeared with it, as if she had torn something… or someone. It dripped slowly onto the floor.

No. Not onto the floor. On the body that lay before her.

I wanted to look. I had to look…

“IRIS!” my brother yelled.

Aidan’s hands grabbed my shoulders, jerking me around. His eyes burned in panic.

“Think about something beautiful. It recognizes your fear. This isn’t real!” he cried in panic.

I closed my eyes. Inhaled.

~Avery.~

His laughter, warm and deep. His strong arms that held me like I was the most fragile thing in the world.

The look in his eyes when he looked at me, as if I were all that mattered.

“Good job,” Aidan murmured, his voice firmer now. “You’re doing great.”

I dug into the soul tie between us, into every memory, every spark of love. The first time I had seen him. Our first kiss.

The night we lost ourselves... and turned into something bigger.

The images burned brighter than fear.

“Come, Iris,” Aidan said.

His hand closed around mine.

“Run,” he commanded.

And we ran... through the laughing, whispering, hungry forest.

I heard Ava’s giggle, echoing between the trees.

After an endless race, Aidan came to an abrupt halt. I glanced over his shoulder and froze.

Ava was sitting there. Motionless on a mossy log, and in front of her... ~it~ crouched.

A figure, wrapped in heavy, black robes that clung to its body like living shadows. The air around it was heavy with decay, with that sweet, putrid odor that made the marrow freeze in your bones.

Beneath the deep hood, I caught a glimpse of the face—or what could be mistaken for it. Two pale eyes sparkled under the hood, no light but a pale glow, like rotting wood in the moonlight.

It reached out towards her. A blade. Long, curved, with a yellow bone handle.

Ava’s fingers closed slowly around it, as if she were acting in her sleep. The tip twisted, against her own stomach.

The creature was whispering. A voice no human could have formed. Deep, torn, as if rising from a forgotten grave.

Its head lifted. The hood shaded its face, but those eyes pierced us. Cold. Calculating.

It felt us.

“Ava, NO!” my cry cut the silence.

The being smiled.

Then it split apart. Not like a creature parting—but like oil on water.

A shadow that molded itself into two without diminishing. Now two of these things stood there, their limbs long, hands bony and too long, as if they had been pulled apart.

Aidan wrenched his sword free. I followed his example, my fingers trembling around the handle.

My aura flared, a pale glow—and with a tug, I snatched the blade from Ava. It flew into my hand, icy cold and pulsating as if it were breathing.

Ava winced. Her vision cleared as she recognized the creature in front of her... and then she saw the second one.

It reached for her, those oversized fingers clawing, but she whirled back, her own shield of pure energy flashing. The claw bounced off, hissing like glowing iron in water.

She rolled across the ground towards us, moaning, her eyes wild.

“They’re splitting,” she gasped. “They eat fear, and multiply as a result.”

The two shadows straightened up and began walking toward us.