Kapitel 6: The Ties That Bind
The moment Elara stepped out of the temple, the forest greeted her differently. The oppressive shadows that had loomed earlier seemed to bow in respect, and the air felt lighter, almost welcoming. Yet, the clarity did little to ease the tension in her chest. The weight of the vision she'd seen in the temple lingered, and doubt gnawed at her resolve.
Her fingers brushed the intricate mark on her hand, still warm from the power it had absorbed. Its faint glow pulsed like a heartbeat, a constant reminder of the temple's warnings. "Every gift has its price," the voice had echoed. But what was the price, and was she prepared to pay it?
The trees thinned as she walked, revealing a meadow bathed in golden light. Wildflowers in vibrant colors swayed gently in the breeze, and a crystal-clear brook meandered through the grass. For the first time in what felt like ages, Elara allowed herself a moment to breathe.
She knelt beside the brook, cupping the cool water in her hands to wash away the grime of her journey. The chill soothed her scraped palms and the dull ache in her shoulder where the beast had wounded her earlier.
"Elara," a voice called softly, carried on the wind.
She froze, her heart skipping a beat. The voice was impossible, achingly familiar. She stood scanning the meadow, her dagger instinctively slipping into her hand.
"Who's there?" she demanded, voice shaking despite the unease creeping into her chest.
Across the meadow, from its edge, stepped a figure. Elara's breath caught. It was her sister, Lyria.
Lyria had vanished years ago, leaving only questions and grief. Yet here she was, standing before Elara as though no time had passed.
"Lyria?" Elara's voice trembled with disbelief.
Her sister smiled, the same gentle smile that Elara remembered so vividly. "It's me, Elara. I've been waiting for you."
Elara's hand tightened on the dagger's hilt as she hesitated. This couldn't be real. It was too perfect, too convenient. She took a cautious step forward. "Prove it. Tell me something only Lyria would know.
Lyria inclined her head; the smile faltered. "When we were kids, you'd slip in the woods behind the village, practicing your magic. You didn't think anybody knew it. I always followed you so you wouldn't get found by Mother.
Elara's chest tightened. It was true—every word of it. Her grip on the dagger loosened and tears welled in her eyes. "It really is you," she whispered.
She surged forward, throwing her arms around her sister. Lyra felt solid, warm, and real. For one brief instant, Elara allowed herself to believe, sinking into the comfort of her sister's embrace.
The moment of solace didn't linger.
A chill ran down Elara's spine. Something was wrong. She pulled back, studying Lyria more closely. Her sister's smile was too perfect, her eyes too bright.
"How did you get here?" Elara asked cautiously.
Lyria's expression didn't falter. "I've been here all along, waiting for you to find me. I knew you'd come.
The words were wrong-too rehearsed, too unnatural. It screamed against Elara's instincts. "What happened to you after you disappeared? Where have you been all these years?"
Lyria hesitated; her gaze flickered onto the mark on Elara's hand. "I was taken. by forces beyond our world. But they showed me the truth, Elara. They showed me the power we could wield together.
Elara's heart sank as the warmth of the meadow dimmed. Shadows crept in at the edges of her vision. This wasn't her sister—not really.
"You're not Lyria," Elara said firmly, raising her dagger.
The thing wearing Lyria's face tilted its head, its smile twisting into something cruel. "Oh, Elara. Always so suspicious, so guarded. It's no wonder you've been left to walk this path alone."
The illusion shattered. The meadow vanished, replaced by a barren, desolate plain. The figure before her twisted and contorted, shedding its disguise. What stood before Elara now was a creature of shadow and malice, its form flickering like a dying flame.
I am the Whisperer," it hissed, its voice razor-sharp and grating. "I dine on doubt and fear, and you, dear child, are a vessel of power unlike any other. Surrender, and I shall spare your world the pain of destruction."
Elara's pulse quickened, but she held her position. "You can do better than lies to break me.
It hunched into its lunge, and the earth beneath her shook. She dodged to one side, her dagger at the ready, and found herself in an unfamiliar kind of battle: ever-changing tendrils of the Whisperer's form whipped around, lashing out with cutting cold.
The mark on her hand flared brighter by the second, the power inside her stirring to the threat. But she hesitated-she had no idea how to use it without unleashing the storm.
"You don't even know what you are," the Whisperer mocked, its voice hounding her on all sides. "But I do. That power will be mine."
"No," Elara whispered, then louder, "No!
Instinct took over. She thrust her hand forward, and a burst of light erupted from the mark, cutting through the shadows. The Whisperer shrieked, recoiling as the light consumed it.
The ground cracked beneath them, and the Whisperer's form began to dissolve. "This isn't over," it hissed, its voice fading as it was pulled into the fissures. "You can't outrun what's coming.
And, with a final scream, the creature disappeared, and the ground became quiet again.
Elara, standing and trembling, saw that the mark on her hand had dimmed once again. She fell to her knees, heavy-breathing as the enormity of what had occurred now rested upon her.
The world around her gradually returned to the status quo. The shades moved back, and light poured in. But that incident would leave its mark. This, Elara knew, was just the beginning.
She looked down at her hand; the intricate design was now more vivid than ever. The power within her was growing, but so was the danger.
She stood, clenching the dagger more firmly before starting to walk once more, her determination hardening with each step. The path ahead was vague, but one thing was clear: she would not let fear define her.
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein