FORGOTTEN SPELLS

Three days had passed since the first visit to the guardhouse. Each passing day weighed heavily on Lena's heart, her worry growing into an unbearable ache. She felt helpless, trapped in a situation she couldn't control, her mind filled with fear for Jarin. Deep down, she knew they wouldn't really harm him, but that didn't stop her from imagining the worst. That was just how she was—an overthinker, always caught up in spirals of worry, even when she knew it wasn't necessary.

Lena had taken on the responsibility of caring for Jarin's sick mother, all the while telling her that Jarin was away on urgent work. Thankfully, the woman's exhaustion prevented her from questioning the lie.

 Her father, Harold, had gone every morning, determined to see Jarin released, but every day, he returned with the same weary expression. Constable Bramwell, who seemed to be their last hope, still had not come to town yet. God knows what was delaying his arrival; Lena could only pray.

Roderick had kept himself scarce, but his presence lingered over everything. His orders had blocked any chance of them seeing Jarin.

But on the fourth day, Lena couldn't take it any longer.

"I'm going with you this time," she declared at breakfast, her voice firm with determination. "We'll confront Roderick together."

Harold frowned, setting down his mug of tea. "Lena, there's no point. He won't listen. Bramwell's still not back—"

"I don't care," Lena interrupted, her eyes hard. "I'm not sitting by while Jarin's locked up like this. We have to try."

Harold looked at her for a long moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright," he said softly. 

The ride to the guardhouse felt longer than usual. The town was strangely quiet, as though a cloud of unease had settled over it. The familiar marketplace, usually bustling, seemed subdued. Lena's heart thudded in her chest as she sat beside her father in the carriage, her mind running through every possible way to plead with Roderick.

Though the path was familiar, Lena felt different—heavier, as if the very air around them was thick with the weight of what was to come. 

Her father sat beside her, unaffected by the oppressive atmosphere. But Lena couldn't shake the sense of impending dread that clung to her, making every breath feel heavier, every turn of the carriage wheels echo louder in her mind.

When they arrived at the guardhouse, the iron gates creaked open as usual. The guards on duty barely spared them a glance, accustomed to their presence by now. Harold led the way into the reception area, his steps heavy with exhaustion and frustration.

And there, standing near the desk, was Roderick.

What luck, thought Lena, her heart sinking. 

The last thing she wanted was to face Roderick, especially now. She had hoped to avoid him, to have a moment to gather her thoughts and find some way to approach the situation without his arrogant presence looming over them. But fate seemed determined to test her nerves today, and she could already feel the tension tightening in her chest.

"Well, well," he drawled, taking a step toward them. "Look who's here?"

Lena's breath caught in her throat, but she forced herself to stand her ground. Her father spoke up first, his voice steady but laced with frustration. "It seems Constable Bramwell is still not here, is he?"

Roderick smirked, leaning casually against the desk. "Doesn't seem like it," he replied, his tone dripping with satisfaction.

It was then that Lena, thinking quickly, realized what this meant. If Constable Bramwell wasn't here, then Roderick was the only one who could release Jarin. The thought filled her with a sudden, desperate resolve.

"Roderick, please," Lena spoke up, her voice firm despite the knot of tension in her chest. "Let Jarin go. It's been three days now, for God's sake."

Her words carried a familiar edge, one that echoed the arguments they used to have as teenagers. For a moment, it was as if they were back in those days, bickering over something far less serious, but the stakes were infinitely higher now. Lena's eyes met Roderick's, pleading but determined, hoping to find some shred of mercy left in him.

Lena's heart pounded in her ears. "I'm begging you," she whispered, her voice catching in her throat. 

Roderick's face softened slightly as he looked at Lena, but his resolve remained firm. He glanced back at the man behind the desk, who had been unhelpfully indifferent to Lena's pleas.

Lena's eyes were wet with desperation. "You don't understand. Jarin's mother might not survive if he doesn't get the help she needs. Please, Roderick.

Harold, who had been silent until now, chose to remain so. Despite his usual wisdom and composure, he recognized that this was Lena's moment to make her case, and he could see that Roderick's hard exterior was beginning to crack. Harold decided to let Lena continue, trusting that her earnest plea might reach him where reason alone had not.

"Fine," Roderick said at last, his voice thick with disdain. "Let him out. But don't expect me to go easy next time."

The constable nodded and hurried off to the cells. Lena's heart soared with relief as she heard Roderick's words; for a moment, she could hardly believe her ears. Could it be that Roderick really wasn't as bad as she had thought? 

"Thank you," she said, her face lighting up with genuine gratitude.

Roderick didn't turn away, his back still facing Lena and Harold. Harold, sensing Lena's emotional upheaval, kept a hand on her shoulder, offering silent support.

"Lena... Harold,"

Lena, who had been leaning against the wall, turned toward the direction of the familiar voice. Itt was Jarin, accompanied by the constable who had gone to retrieve him.

As Jarin approached, Lena stood up straight, her gaze filled with relief and concern. 

Lena wrapped her arms around Jarin, pulling him into a tight embrace. Her heart raced with relief as she felt the familiar warmth of his body against hers. The hug was a cocoon of comfort and reassurance, an escape from the tension and uncertainty of the past few days.

Harold, who had been seated on a chair, stood up as well, watching his daughter and her friend with a blend of warmth and quiet satisfaction.

Roderick remained in the same spot, still holding a file he had been reading. His tight grip on the file went unnoticed by everyone in the room

The setting sun cast a golden hue over the tranquil water, painting the scene with warm, soft colors. Lena, who always found comfort by the lake, felt an extra sense of peace as she waited for Jarin. After they left the guardhouse, she insisted he visit his mother alone and chose to wait here

As Lena sat quietly by the lake, the setting sun bathed everything in a warm, golden light. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the gentle rustling of the leaves and the soft lapping of the water soothe her.

The sound of footsteps drew her attention, and she turned her head to see Jarin approaching. "Hey," he said softly as he drew near and sat next to her.

As he settled, Jarin lay down on the grass with one knee bent and the other leg extended, a relaxed pose that mirrored his exhaustion. His eyes were closed, and his hand rested beneath his head. He wore a simple, faded shirt that had seen better days, its color muted from frequent wear. His trousers were equally worn, tucked into scuffed boots that had clearly traveled many miles. There was silence, a comforting one. Lena shifted her gaze from hi to the lake.

"She's getting worse," he said quietly after a while. Lena understood who he was referring to, her thoughts mirroring his concern. Lena stayed silent, feeling uncertain about how to offer comfort. Jarin had always been better at this sort of thing; she was not. It was quiet again.

Lena reached into the pocket of her dress. She wore a soft, autumnal brown dress that fell gracefully to her knees, the fabric light and flowing with a subtle sheen. The dress was adorned with delicate, hand-stitched patterns of leaves and vines along the hem, adding a touch of nature-inspired elegance.

She pulled out two small pouches, their drawstrings tied neatly. One was a deep burgundy, while the other was a faded tan, giving them a slightly worn but well-cared-for appearance.

Lena dangled the pouches above Jarin's face, the soft rustling of coins inside broke the silence between them, drawing Jarin's attention as he opened his eyes to see what was happening. Holding out the pouches to Jarin, Lena smiled gently. Jarin looked at her, his expression confused.

Jarin took the pouches from her, his expression puzzled. As he sat back up, he guessed what the pouches might contain from the sound, but he opened them anyway to be sure.

He opened the burgundy pouch first, revealing a handful of coins. He had guessed right

"What's this?" Jarin asked, looking back at Lena with curiosity.

Lena turned to face him completely, sitting on her knees with her legs folded beneath her and her toes pressing lightly into the grass. Her expression was calm, though her eyes showed a trace of nervousness.

"You couldn't make any sales through your goods," Lena said softly. "You never got a chance to. So, have this."

She gestured to the coins, her voice gentle yet firm, as if trying to convey both understanding and support.

Jarin looked back at the coins and then at Lena, his eyes widening with a mix of disbelief and worry. "Don't tell me this is your savings for that college in Eldhaven," he said.

Lena placed her hands on his shoulders, her gaze steady. "Jarin, you need it more than I do."

But before he could respond, Lena interrupted gently. "Shhh, listen. I can wait a few more months. Your mother can't. So take it."

He looked down, the weight of Lenas' sacrifice sinking in. "I— I..." he stammered, his voice trailing off. 

Lena gently cupped his chin with one hand, her other hand still resting on his shoulder. "In every storm," she began softly.

Jarin, with wet eyes, finished the saying, "Our hearts find shelter."

Lena smiled, completing it with, "In the same haven." It was a phrase they had used since they became best friends, a comforting reminder through every challenge they faced together.

Jarin, overwhelmed by the depth of Lena's gesture, pulled her into a tight embrace. He buried his face in her shoulder, tears streaming down as he cried quietly. Lena wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. She gently caressed his hair with one hand, silently conveying that she was there for him, offering him her steadfast support.

"Well, look at you! I didn't know I was hugging a waterfall." Lena teased softly, getting a muffled laugh, against her shoulder from Jarin.

The sun had long disappeared, leaving the sky a deep, velvety blue. The first stars began to twinkle in the darkening expanse, and the chill of the evening air hinted at the approach of winter. Jarin and Lena decided to head to The Chocolate Nook, a cozy shop known for its rich assortment of chocolate treats, including their delicious hot chocolate.

The shop, The Chocolate Nook, was a cozy space with warm lighting and rustic wooden furnishings. The walls were decorated with vintage chocolate-themed artwork , the shop welcomed them like it always had, with the soft glow of its lights and the familiar scent of rich cocoa and sugar hanging in the air. Wooden tables and chairs were scattered throughout, each offering a comfortable spot to relax.

Lena and Jarin settled into a corner table, their hot chocolates warming their hands. The table was modest, covered with a checkered cloth and adorned with a small vase holding a single, fresh flower. As they nestled into their seats, the cozy atmosphere of the shop wrapped around them like a comforting blanket, at least for Jarin. 

Despite the lingering redness in his eyes from tears earlier, Jarin found solace in the gentle warmth of the drink. The laughter and the serene walk to the shop had helped ease the last of his sorrow. Lena's embrace had done wonders, but the comfort of the moment was now completed by the rich, creamy chocolate in their mugs.

Lena's case was different.

As Jarin started a conversation, Lena found herself unable to engage. She kept her gaze fixed on the mug in front of her, the rich chocolate swirling in the cup mirroring the swirl of thoughts in her mind. It wasn't that she couldn't hear Jarin—she could—but an unsettling feeling had taken root in her stomach since the morning, and it had only grown stronger as the day went on.

As Jarin started a conversation, Lena found herself unable to engage. She absent mindedly stirred her hot chocolate, her mind wandering far beyond the cozy shop . It wasn't that she couldn't hear Jarin—she could—but There was an unsettling feeling in her stomach, one that had been with her since the morning. She wasn't sure what it was, but the sensation nagged at her, refusing to leave, like a persistent whisper that something was off. Her heart felt unusually heavy, though she couldn't pinpoint why.

At first, she thought it was because Jarin hadn't returned yet, but even after he arrived, the feeling persisted. She tried to dismiss it as lingering anxiety from the past few days, but this sensation was different. It was something deeper, something she had never felt before, and now, it was growing.

Jarin, realizing he wasn't getting any response, paused mid-sentence and tilted his head slightly, noticing the distant look in Lena's eyes. With a soft sigh, he reached out across the table and gave her forehead a playful flick.

"Hey, Lena!" Jarin called softly but firmly, a trace of teasing in his voice.

Lena snapped her head up in surprise, blinking as if she had just resurfaced from some deep reverie. Her eyes met Jarin's, and for a moment, the tension in her body melted away. She managed a weak smile, feeling a bit embarrassed for drifting so far off into her own thoughts.

"Sorry," she muttered, rubbing her forehead where he'd flicked her. "I wasn't—"

"Thinking too much again?" Jarin interrupted with a chuckle, though there was a hint of concern in his eyes. "You okay?"

Lena looked down at her mug again, taking a slow, deep breath. She wanted to reassure him, to tell him she was fine, but the truth was, she wasn't sure how she felt. The sensation of unease still lingered, though she couldn't articulate it. Not yet.

"Yeah... I guess," she trailed off.

Jarin tilted his head and leaned a bit closer, his voice soft but teasing as he dragged out her name. "Leee-naaa."

Lena glanced up, half-smiling despite herself. Jarin always knew how to draw her out, even when she was buried deep in her thoughts. He gave her an exaggerated pout, his eyes wide with mock innocence.

"Tell me what's going on up here," he said, tapping his temple. "Or I'm gonna start guessing and trust me, my guesses are wild."

Lena let out a small, reluctant laugh. "It's nothing big. Just… I don't know, something doesn't feel right. Like, this... heaviness in my chest, and I can't shake it."

Jarin leaned back in his chair, pretending to think deeply.

"Hmm, could it be... some magical creatures? Maybe a gang of mischievous elves? Or better yet, a secret society of enchanted rabbits plotting to overthrow the human race?" Jarin grinned, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

Lena rolled her eyes but couldn't help the smile that tugged at her lips. "Enchanted rabbits, really? That's your best guess?"

Jarin leaned in closer, lowering his voice as if sharing a grand secret. "Hey, don't underestimate them. Cute, fluffy... but dangerously magical. One wrong move, and poof! They'll turn your shoes into jelly."

Lena laughed, the sound escaping her despite the unease still swirling inside her. Jarin always had a way of lightening the mood, of making her feel like everything could be okay, even when things felt off.

But then, a bloodcurdling scream tore through the air from outside, freezing her in place. Lena's heart skipped a beat, the uneasy feeling that had been gnawing at her all day suddenly spiking into full-blown terror. She wasn't alone. Every head in the café turned toward the windows, and the tension that had once been lighthearted and warm now snapped into something far more menacing. there was a tremendous explosion of noise. 

The door burst open, splintering as though something massive had slammed into it. Wood cracked, glass shattered, and a gust of icy air surged inside. Lena barely had time to register the chaos before something dark and twisted barged into the café, forcing its way in like a battering ram of pure shadow. 

The thing was huge—an ominous, towering figure that seemed to be made entirely of swirling darkness, like a black smoke condensed into a vaguely humanoid form. It moved with force and purpose, knocking tables and chairs aside as though they were nothing. The darkness clung to it, alive and writhing, like it was feeding off the light and warmth of the room.

Screams filled the café as the creature pressed forward, the air growing colder with every passing second. Lena felt her breath catch in her throat. She glanced at Jarin, who was staring at the creature in shock, but there was no time for words.

Jarin didn't hesitate for a second, grabbed her hand instinctively. His grip on Lena's hand tightened as he pulled her up from her seat, practically dragging her along as they bolted toward the back of the café. Tables and chairs clattered to the floor as the monstrous figure continued its violent advance, knocking everything in its path out of the way. The air around them grew colder with every step the creature took, the warmth and comfort of the café replaced by an unnatural chill that clung to their skin.

Lena stumbled, her heart pounding in her chest, but Jarin kept her steady, guiding her toward a narrow hallway near the back of the room that led to the kitchen and possibly a way out. She could barely think straight; the sound of the creature's destruction behind them echoed loudly in her ears—wood snapping, glass shattering, and the horrifying screams of people who had been caught in its path.

"Keep moving!" Jarin yelled over the noise, his voice laced with panic but steady. He glanced back only once, his eyes wide with fear, before pushing forward with renewed urgency.

Lena's legs felt like lead, but she forced herself to keep pace, adrenaline driving her onward. They were close to the kitchen when Lena's eyes caught something in the chaos—a blur of motion, followed by a high-pitched scream that cut through the destruction.

She whipped her head around just in time to see the creature lash out with one of its shadowy tendrils. The dark, writhing appendage struck with terrifying speed and precision, knocking over chairs and tables. But just as they neared safety, Lena's gaze caught something that made her freeze in place. Through the haze of chaos and shadow, she saw a small figure standing near the front of the café, completely still—Emily, the librarian's daughter.

Lena's heart dropped. Emily, the little girl who always came to her with a wide smile, asking for stories about brave heroes and magical adventures. 

Time didn't seem to slow—it all happened so quickly that Lena barely had a moment to process it. One second, Emily was standing there, her small figure frozen in fear, and the next, the creature's dark tendrils lashed out with terrifying speed. The shadowy mass surged forward, enveloping the girl in an instant. Lena's breath caught in her throat, but she couldn't react—there wasn't even time to scream or reach out.

"No..." Lena whispered, her voice barely audible, choked by the lump forming in her throat. She felt her legs wobble beneath her, the urge to run back and help overwhelming her, but she knew it was too late. The girl's body lay limp, the warmth and life that had once filled her now extinguished by the cold shadow of the creature.

Jarin must have sensed Lena faltering because he turned back, his eyes full of desperation. "Lena, come on! We have to go!"

Tears stung Lena's eyes, her chest tightening with grief and helplessness. She wanted to scream, to run toward the dark creature and do something—anything—but her legs felt rooted to the spot, paralyzed by the horror of what she had just witnessed.

Jarin, his own heart heavy with the weight of what had just happened, tugged her out of her daze. "There's nothing we can do!" he yelled, his voice trembling with the same sorrow that filled her. His grip on her arm tightened as he pulled her forward, the devastation of what they had both witnessed etched on his face.

Lena blinked through her tears, her body moving on instinct as Jarin led them toward the exit.

Jarin dragged Lena out the back exit of the café, his breath coming in ragged gasps as they tumbled into a narrow alleyway. The door slammed behind them with a loud clatter, cutting off the sounds of chaos within the café. The alley was dimly lit by flickering lamps attached to weathered brick walls, the ground beneath their feet slick with damp cobblestones. Lena leaned against the wall, struggling to catch her breath, her mind still reeling from the horrors they had just witnessed.

Jarin's grip on her arm loosened as he checked their surroundings. The alleyway was narrow, enclosed by tall buildings that loomed like silent constable. They could still hear screams in the distance—sharp and terrified—as more chaos unfolded in the town. The creature that had destroyed the café was not alone; others like it seemed to have emerged, spreading fear and destruction across the once peaceful streets.

"Gods... what's happening?" Jarin muttered, his voice barely above a whisper as he peeked out of the alleyway. His face was pale, the weight of what they had just seen pressing on him. He turned back to Lena, his eyes wide with fear.

Beyond the alley, the town was in disarray. People ran through the streets, their faces twisted with terror. The shops, once bustling with warmth and laughter, had been reduced to scenes of chaos. Windows were shattered, doors torn from their hinges, and the once vibrant marketplace was now eerily silent, save for the occasional crash of something being destroyed in the distance and people screams . Among the scattering townsfolk, more of the shadowy figures could be seen, drifting through the streets like death itself, their tendrils reaching for anything that moved.

Lena's heart raced as she took it all in, her stomach twisting into knots. It was like a nightmare had come to life.

"We need to get out of here," Jarin urged, though his voice wavered with uncertainty. He glanced down the alley and then back at Lena. "I have to go check on my mother. She's sick—she's home alone. I can't leave her like this."

Lena's mind reeled, the urgency of their situation pulling her in different directions. She, too, had someone she needed to protect—her father. Her thoughts turned to him, imagining him at the tavern, unaware of the horror that was now swallowing the town whole.

"Lena, come with me," Jarin pleaded, his voice thick with desperation. He didn't want to leave her alone, not like this, not after what they had seen.

But Lena shook her head, her expression firm despite the fear roiling in her chest. "I have to find my father," she said, her voice steadying as she spoke. "He's at the tavern—The Red Harp—just down the road."

"Lena, don't," Jarin started to protest, but Lena cut him off, her resolve hardening.

"You know how fast I am, I'll be fine." she assured him, forcing a small smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I'll get my father, and we'll meet back up. We'll be fine. Go to your mother, Jarin. She needs you."

Jarin hesitated, his brows furrowed in worry, but he could see the determination in Lena's eyes. "How will we find each other?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.

"We'll sort it out," Lena said reassuringly. 

He wanted to stay by her side, to make sure she was safe, but deep down, he knew she was right. His mother needed him just as much as Lena's father needed her.

"Alright," he said, his voice softening. "But please… be careful."

"I will," Lena promised. pulling her into a brief, tight hug before he hurried down the alleyway, glancing back one last time before getting out of the alleway.

Now alone, Lena took a deep breath, steeling herself. Her mind was buzzing with thoughts, fear clawing at her insides, but she couldn't afford to lose focus. Her father was all that mattered now.

She stepped out of the alleyway, her heart pounding as she made her way toward The Red Harp. The streets were a labyrinth of destruction, with overturned carts and broken barrels littering the cobblestone paths. She moved quickly but cautiously, darting behind fallen carts and slipping into shadowed alleyways whenever she spotted one of the eerie creatures drifting nearby. Her breath came in short, sharp bursts, and her muscles ached from the strain of staying hidden.

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, racing faster than her feet. Why is this happening? What are those things? Her mind reached back to the stories her father used to tell—of ancient creatures, the old gods, and the forbidden magic that once existed in the world. Could these creatures be part of that lost magic? She shuddered at the thought. It doesn't matter right now, she told herself. Just get to him. You have to get to him.

As she kept moving, Lena gasped, stumbling over the uneven cobblestones. Her foot had caught on something—debris from a broken building—and she hit the ground hard, the sharp edges of the stones scraping her hands and knees. The pain shot through her, momentarily clouding her vision. She gritted her teeth and forced herself up, though her limbs screamed in protest.

Keep moving, Lena. Don't stop. She pressed on, limping now, her mind focused on nothing but reaching the tavern. She didn't dare look back—she could hear the soft whispers of the shadowy figures nearby, and the thought of them catching up to her sent chills down her spine.

As she made her way to the tavern, Lena noticed something different in the shadows that flickered in the periphery of her vision. The creature that had torn through the café was terrible enough, with their amorphous forms and serpentine tendrils, but these new figures seemed even more sinister, more deliberate in their movements. Unlike the chaotic thrashing of the first creatures, these shadowy figures moved with a disturbing grace, almost as if they were hunting, their forms shifting and undulating in a rhythm that sent chills down her spine.

One of the figures detached itself from the shadows of a nearby building and began to glide in her direction. This one was taller, its silhouette elongated, with sharp, angular limbs that seemed to stretch impossibly long as it moved. A faint, eerie glow pulsed from within its center, casting an ominous light around it. Unlike the others, which had been formless and almost mindless in their destruction, this one seemed to focus directly on her, as if it could see her—sense her fear.

As soon as Lena noticed the creature's menacing approach, she made a split-second decision to change her course and head for the nearest side alley. She navigated through the cluttered street with urgency, ducking behind debris and using the cover of shadows to avoid detection. Her knowledge of the area and the layout of the street allowed her to move quickly while keeping an eye on the creature.

 Lena timed her move carefully. As the creature was momentarily distracted by the scattered debris, she took the opportunity to slip into the narrow alley. Her injuries made the movement painful, but adrenaline pushed her forward.

Panic surged through Lena as she realized she couldn't outrun this creature for long, not with her injuries. Pressing herself against the damp brick wall, hoping the darkness would conceal her. The creature's movements were swift, precise, its presence oppressive as it closed in. Lena could feel its cold, malevolent energy creeping closer, and she knew she had only moments to act.

Lena's eyes darted around the dim alley, the flickering light from a single, barely functional lamp casting long, wavering shadows on the ground. The alley was littered with debris—broken crates, discarded tools, and a shattered lantern that had spilled oil across the slick cobblestones. Nearby, a splintered wooden rod lay abandoned, half-hidden in the shadows.

As the creature drew closer, an idea sparked in Lena's mind. Her heart pounded as she quickly tore a strip from the hem of her dress, using her teeth to rip the fabric. The fabric was just enough for what she needed.

Her hands trembled as she quickly soaked the cloth in the small puddle of oil that had leaked from the broken lantern. The lamp above flickered weakly, offering just enough light to illuminate her task. She forced herself to stay calm, knowing that panic would only make her movements clumsy.

With the cloth now saturated, she wrapped it tightly around the end of the splintered wooden rod, creating a makeshift torch. Her breath came in shallow gasps, but she didn't hesitate. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a small flint and steel—her father's gift, a constant companion. She struck the flint against the steel, sparks flying in the dark alley. On the third strike, the oil-soaked cloth caught fire, and the torch sputtered to life.

The sudden burst of flame sent flickering shadows dancing along the walls. The creature hesitated, its dark form seeming to ripple and distort as the light reached it. Lena held the torch aloft, the flames casting a circle of light that pushed back against the encroaching darkness.

With the creature momentarily stalled, Lena backed away, the torch held between her and the advancing shadow. The creature recoiled further, clearly affected by the firelight.

The shadowy figure seemed determined to close the distance between them. But as it moved closer to the torch, the flames suddenly flared up, crackling fiercely in the damp night air.

The creature recoiled, its form distorting and writhing as the fire's heat and light reached it. For a moment, it hesitated, its dark, twisted limbs curling inward as if in pain. Then, with a hissing sound that echoed through the narrow alley, the flames began to lick at the creature's shadowy form.

To Lena's shock, the fire didn't just repel the creature—it began to consume it. The shadow figure thrashed violently, its dark tendrils whipping through the air as the flames devoured it. The fire spread rapidly, fueled by the creature's own essence, burning hotter and brighter with each passing second.

The sight was both terrifying and mesmerizing, but Lena knew she couldn't stay to watch.

She quickly scanned the alley, her eyes locking onto the opposite end—the one she hadn't originally entered from. The way she had come in was now blocked by the burning creature, and the heat from the flames was becoming unbearable. She had no choice but to find another way out.

Lena turned and bolted toward the other end of the alley, her limp slowing her but not stopping her. The narrow passage was littered with debris, but she pushed through, adrenaline overriding the pain in her leg. The alley seemed to stretch on forever, each step echoing with the crackling of the fire behind her and the distant chaos in the streets.

Finally, the alley opened up into another street. Lena stumbled out, gasping for breath, the cold night air hitting her like a wall. She quickly glanced around, orienting herself. The Red Harp was still her destination, and she could see its weathered sign swinging gently in the breeze just a short distance away.

Lena forced herself to keep moving, expecting another attack at any moment, but to her surprise, none came. The other shadowy figures that had terrorized the town didn't seem to be aware of what had happened in the alley. It wasn't that they were retreating or giving up; they simply didn't care. 

In the grand scheme of the terror unfolding in the town, Lena's desperate struggle in the alley was insignificant. The creatures were relentless, but their behavior was almost mindless, more like a force of nature than an organized threat. They roamed the streets, attacking anything in their path, but they weren't searching for her specifically.

The destruction of the creature in the alley had bought her time, not because the others feared the fire, but because they simply hadn't noticed her yet. The creatures were focused on their destruction and chaos, seemingly driven by some primal instinct rather than any coordinated plan.

As long as she stayed out of sight and kept moving, she could avoid drawing their attention. This gave Lena a small but crucial advantage. With this realization, Lena pressed on toward The Red Harp, knowing that her luck wouldn't last forever. 

Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, racing faster than her feet. Why is this happening? What are those things? Her mind reached back to the stories she had read used to tell—of ancient creatures, and the forbidden magic that once existed in the world. Could these creatures be part of that lost magic? She shuddered at the thought. It doesn't matter right now, she told herself. Just get to him. You have to get to him.

Lena neared The Red Harp, the tavern's weathered sign swinging gently in the breeze just a short distance away. Her steps slowed as she noticed the unsettling silence around her. The streets, which had been filled with chaos, were now eerily quiet. There were no shadowy creatures in sight, no sounds of destruction nearby. But something was wrong—terribly wrong.

As she moved closer, her breath caught in her throat. A tall, cloaked figure stood in the middle of the road, his back to her. He was still, almost unnaturally so, and something about him sent a chill down Lena's spine. Her eyes widened as she saw a figure crawling on his back weakly on the ground behind ahead of him.

She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. The scene in the café flashed through her mind—how Emily had died. The memory was raw, a wound that hadn't even begun to heal. Not again, she thought, her fists clenching in determination. Not this time. 

Lena looked around desperately, searching for anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze landed on a broken plank, one end jagged and sharp. She grabbed it, her knuckles white as she held it tightly. She would do whatever it took to protect the person being attacked.

As she moved closer, her heart lurched in horror. The figure crawling on the ground wasn't just anyone—it was her father. His face was pale, his movements slow and pained as he tried to pull himself away from the cloaked man. Lena's blood ran cold, and without thinking, she screamed, "Father!"

Her voice shattered the silence, and both the cloaked figure and her father turned to look at her. The fire from a nearby burning building cast an eerie glow over the scene, illuminating Lena's face and theirs. But as much as she strained to see, she couldn't make out the cloaked man's features. His face was hidden beneath the hood, only two glowing red eyes piercing the darkness.

The cloaked figure's gaze locked onto her, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. His long, skeletal fingers tightened around the staff he held in one hand. Lena's breath quickened, panic rising within her as she began to run toward her father, desperate to reach him.

But before she could close the distance, the cloaked man turned fully toward her father. With a slow, deliberate movement, he raised the staff and plunged it into her father's chest.

"No!" Lena's scream tore through the night as she watched in helpless horror. Her father's body sagged, his strength leaving him as blood poured from the wound. The cloaked figure didn't linger—he simply vanished, dissolving into the shadows as if he had never been there at all.

Lena stumbled to her father's side, dropping to her knees as she cradled his head in her lap. Tears streamed down her face, falling onto his pale skin as she pressed her hands against the wound, trying in vain to stop the bleeding. "Father, no… Please, no," she choked out, her voice breaking with each word. "I'll get you help. I'll take you to the physician, just hold on."

But even as she said it, she knew it was too late. His eyes fluttered open, and for a brief moment, they focused on her. He reached up, his hand trembling as he touched her cheek, wiping away her tears. "Lena…," he whispered, his voice weak, yet filled with so much love. "You have your mother's eyes."

His words broke her, and she sobbed, her tears flowing freely. "Father, please, don't leave me," she begged, her voice cracking under the weight of her grief.

He managed a faint smile, tears welling in his own eyes. "You're strong, Lena. Strong like your mother." His voice was fading, each word a struggle. "Remember… I'm so proud of you…"

His breathing slowed, then stopped altogether. The light in his eyes dimmed, leaving only a lifeless gaze.

"Father!" Lena's scream echoed through the empty streets as she clung to him, her heart shattering with every second that passed. The world around her blurred, the pain in her chest overwhelming, suffocating. She cried out, her sobs wracking her body, the loss of her father tearing her apart. Everything she had fought for, everything she had feared—it had all come to this moment of unbearable sorrow.

She held him close, rocking back and forth as the tears poured down her face. The flames from the burning buildings flickered around them, casting shadows that danced in the night, but all Lena could see was the stillness of her father in her arms, the weight of his loss pulling her into a darkness she feared she might never escape.