Villain's Last Chance

The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, wrapping around us like the shadows pressing against the stone walls. Every step echoed through the narrow passage, a reminder that there was no turning back.

Cairon hadn't spoken since the shades vanished. His presence was a steady weight beside me, but it was different now. He wasn't just guarding me—he was watching me. The guide led the way, unbothered by the stale air or the whispers that seemed to slither from the cracks in the walls. Marek walked a step behind, his usual smirk absent, his fingers resting near his blades.

I flexed my hands, trying to shake off the lingering cold from the shade's touch, but it wouldn't leave me. The way I had spoken those names—the way the power had answered—something inside me had changed. And Cairon had noticed.

"Are we going to talk about it?" Marek's voice broke the silence, his words light but edged with tension.

"No," Cairon said, his tone clipped.

Marek sighed. "Right, let's just ignore the fact that she whispered some magic nonsense and unmade a bunch of nightmares. Totally normal."

I kept walking. "It worked, didn't it?"

"Sure," Marek said. "But where exactly did you learn to do that?"

I hesitated. The truth tangled on my tongue. If I admitted I had no idea, it would only confirm what Cairon already suspected—that something unnatural was stirring inside me.

The guide glanced back, amusement flickering in his gaze. "She didn't learn it," he said smoothly. "She remembered it."

A chill crawled down my spine. I shot him a glare, but he only smiled.

Cairon stopped walking. "Explain."

The guide tilted his head. "You already know the answer, knight. You just don't want to accept it."

Tension crackled in the air. Cairon's hand hovered over his sword, his body rigid. "Say it."

The guide's smile didn't waver. "She is not who she was. And the more you fight it, the more dangerous she becomes."

Cairon turned to me then, his eyes dark and unreadable. "And you?" His voice was quieter now, but no less sharp. "Do you know what's happening to you?"

I opened my mouth, ready to tell him what he wanted to hear. That I was still me, that nothing had changed. But I hesitated.

Because the truth was, I wasn't sure anymore.

"Does it matter?" I said instead.

His jaw tightened. "It does."

We stared at each other, the space between us thin as a blade's edge. The air was too thick, too charged, and for the first time, I saw something in his gaze that I couldn't quite name. Not fear. Not yet. But close.

I looked away first. "We should keep moving."

Cairon hesitated a moment longer before nodding. He didn't step closer, but he didn't step away either.

The guide chuckled softly. "Ah, what an interesting pair you two make."

"Shut up," we said at the same time.

Marek snorted. "Great. Love this team dynamic. Really thriving here."

We pressed forward. The corridor narrowed, forcing us into a single file. The air was colder now, sharp against my skin. The walls seemed to breathe, shifting as we passed.

Then the torches flickered.

The light sputtered, the flames shrinking as if something unseen had drawn a breath. My stomach clenched.

Then, just as suddenly, the world tilted.

The floor vanished beneath my feet.

I hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the breath from my lungs. Darkness swallowed everything, thick and suffocating. My heart pounded as I pushed myself up, fingers scraping against stone.

Cairon's voice cut through the void. "Elara?"

"I'm here," I said, forcing my voice steady.

A shuffle of movement, then a hand brushed against mine. I grabbed it instinctively, the warmth grounding me.

Marek groaned somewhere to my right. "Not to alarm anyone, but I think we just fell into another death trap."

A spark flared in the darkness, illuminating Cairon's face for a split second before the flame caught on a torch. The dim glow revealed the chamber around us—high walls lined with faded carvings, an arched ceiling curving above like the ribs of some great beast. And at the far end of the room, a door.

Or at least, what should have been a door.

The stone frame was empty. A void stretched beyond it, pulsing with something I couldn't name.

Marek whistled. "Well. That's ominous."

The guide stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "The second trial has begun."

I clenched my jaw. "And what, exactly, does this one demand?"

He gestured toward the carvings on the walls. "See for yourself."

I moved closer, tracing the patterns with my fingertips. The images told a story—figures kneeling before an altar, shadows twisting around them. A ritual. A sacrifice. A choice.

My stomach turned.

Cairon read over my shoulder, his breath warm against my skin. "It's asking for a price."

The guide nodded. "Every passage must be paid for."

Marek crossed his arms. "And what's the currency? Blood? Memory? My incredibly good looks?"

The guide didn't smile. "A truth."

I stilled.

The guide stepped closer, his eyes gleaming in the torchlight. "One of you must speak a truth you have never spoken aloud. A secret that carries weight. Only then will the door open."

Silence settled over us.

Cairon's gaze flicked to me. "I'll do it."

The words hit me like a punch. "Cairon—"

"It has to be something that matters," he said. "And I have plenty of those."

The thought of him offering something up—something buried, something personal—made my chest tighten.

Marek held up a hand. "Whoa, hold on. Let's not rush into the emotional self-sacrifice thing. Maybe there's a loophole."

The guide shook his head. "Only a true secret will suffice. If it is weak, the door will not open."

Cairon took a step toward the threshold.

I grabbed his wrist.

He froze, looking down at where my fingers pressed into his skin. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—surprise, hesitation.

I swallowed. "Let me do it."

His brows furrowed. "Elara—"

"I can," I said, voice quiet but firm. "I should."

His expression tightened, his fingers twitching beneath mine. For a moment, I thought he might argue.

Then, slowly, he nodded.

I turned toward the door, my pulse thrumming in my ears.

A truth. A secret. A price.

I inhaled deeply, then exhaled the words before I could take them back.

"I never wanted to survive that night."

The chamber pulsed. The carvings flared, the shadows twisting. The void at the door flickered, then shuddered—opening.

Silence followed.

I felt Cairon's stare burning into me. Marek shifted, exhaling softly. The guide only smiled, as if he had been waiting for this.

I turned away before Cairon could say anything, before he could ask.

"We should go," I said, stepping forward.

The air beyond the door was colder than I expected. It wrapped around me like a breath, pulling me forward.

And I let it.