The fog did not lift. If anything, it thickened, curling around the manor like grasping fingers, a presence in itself. The world beyond its veil seemed nonexistent, as if they had stepped into a place untouched by time, forgotten by reality.
Vivian's breath was shallow, her pulse a restless drum against her ribs. The symbol in the mist pulsed once more before dissolving, but the weight of its presence remained, as if it had burned itself into the very air around them.
Sebastian exhaled slowly, rolling his shoulders as if shaking off the unseen weight pressing upon them. His gaze flickered toward Elara, who stood rigid, eyes locked on the empty space where the symbol had been.
"That figure in the clearing," he said finally, voice low, controlled, but tense. "It wasn't just some illusion, was it?"
Elara's lips parted slightly, then pressed into a thin line. She did not answer immediately, and that in itself was an answer.
Vivian turned to her. "You recognized what it was."
Elara's jaw tightened. "I don't know for certain," she said, but the way her voice wavered betrayed her. "But if it knows you—if it knows the curse—it's worse than I imagined."
Sebastian frowned. "You're saying this thing has been watching us?"
Elara didn't blink. "I'm saying it's been waiting."
A slow, creeping dread settled over them, tightening like a coil around Vivian's lungs. The words spoken by the figure replayed in her mind, over and over, like a riddle with no solution.
"You have already chosen."
"The curse will break you."
But she hadn't made any choice—had she?
The wind shifted suddenly, a breeze unnatural in its silence, carrying with it the faintest echo of something... something distant but familiar. A whisper, a hum of something lurking just out of sight.
Sebastian stepped closer to Vivian instinctively, his fingers grazing her wrist for only a second before pulling away. "We need to get inside," he said, voice firm. "Now."
Elara gave a sharp nod, already moving toward the doors of the manor. Vivian followed, but not before glancing back one last time at the fog.
Something inside her told her that whatever had come tonight... it was not finished.
Inside, the air was no warmer, nor was it any safer. The manor was vast, but every corner felt smaller now, suffocating under the weight of unseen eyes. Candles flickered unnaturally, casting restless shadows along the walls.
Elara led them to the study, locking the doors behind them with a flick of her wrist. The room smelled of parchment and old magic, filled with books stacked in uneven towers and maps scattered across the heavy oak table. The fireplace crackled, but its warmth did little to ease the cold pressing against their skin.
Sebastian dragged a hand through his hair. "We need to figure out what this means. That symbol—it wasn't just a mark. It was reacting to something."
Vivian lowered herself into one of the chairs, fingers threading together in her lap. "It changed the moment the figure spoke to me," she said. "Like it was… responding."
Elara inhaled slowly, then moved toward a locked cabinet. She pulled out a small, worn book, its cover etched with symbols too faded to decipher. Flipping through the pages, she stopped at one in particular, then turned the book toward them.
The symbol stared back at them, inked into the page in harsh, jagged strokes.
Sebastian leaned in. "What does it mean?"
Elara's voice was quiet, but weighted. "It's a seal," she murmured. "Not just any seal—one that binds something. Something powerful."
A pause.
Vivian's throat tightened. "You mean a curse."
Elara met her gaze. "Yes. And it's unraveling."
The words settled like stone in her stomach.
Sebastian exhaled through his nose, his grip tightening around the back of a chair. "So if it's unraveling, does that mean it's breaking?"
Elara hesitated.
Vivian felt it before Elara even spoke. The truth.
No, the curse wasn't breaking.
It was awakening.
Elara finally spoke, confirming what Vivian already feared.
"Not all curses are meant to be broken," she said. "Some are meant to be released."
The silence that followed was deafening.
Vivian clenched her fists, trying to still the tremor in her hands. The figure's words came rushing back, clearer now, more terrifying.
"You have already chosen."
"The curse will break you."
A horrible realization gripped her.
What if this was never about ending the curse?
What if the curse was never meant to be stopped—only fulfilled?
The floor beneath her seemed to shift. The manor groaned as if it, too, knew the truth.
Sebastian's voice cut through the weight of her thoughts. "Then tell us, Elara," he said, quieter now, but no less intense. "What exactly have we been trying to stop?"
Elara closed the book with a quiet snap, her fingers ghosting over the cover.
And then, barely above a whisper, she answered.
"A prophecy."
The flames in the fireplace flickered.
Vivian's breath caught in her throat.
Sebastian stilled.
The wind outside howled, and the manor's doors shuddered as if something unseen pressed against them.
And somewhere in the distance, deep within the fog, the voice returned—soft, lilting, waiting.
"You cannot fight what was already decided."
The fire dimmed.
And the whispering began again.
To be continued...