~Julian~
Storms rarely begin with thunder.
They begin quietly.
A shift in the air.
A pressure building in your lungs.
A certainty that something is wrong,
even while the sky still looks calm.
And by the time the storm finally breaks,
it is already far too late to escape it.
~~~
The night came swiftly, swallowing the edges of the room. Shadows settled into the corners and seams, thickening around the low hum of chants and incantations that filled the space around us.
Candlelight dragged across their faces, catching on sharp cheekbones, hollow eyes, and moving hands, painting them in a burning amber glow.
Every gesture, every flick of a hand, seemed part of the ritual itself.
The flames bent out of rhythm, curling as if they too were caught in whatever force ruled this place. The walls seemed to breathe with them.
The air thickened with herbs and smoke, sharp and bitter. Metal coated my tongue. Each breath dragged, slow and resistant, as if my lungs had to force it in.
"Steady! Focus on the circle!" one of the women hissed. Panic slipped through her voice despite the command.
"Keep chanting!" another snapped, teeth clenched as the floor beneath us seemed to pulse with the sound.
The longer I sat there, bound and helpless, the more the air itself seemed to resist me. It was as if the room itself pressed back, forcing me into silence.
Hours bled into each other until time no longer had meaning.
The ritual continued without pause, relentless and cruel.
They did not stop when I tried to break free.
They did not stop when Asteria screamed.
Not even when her voice broke and her cries turned to raw, shattered pain.
I hated them for it.
I hated their calm faces, their steady chanting, their blind devotion to whatever power they served.
I wanted to hurt them, to make them feel what she felt. I ran it over and over in my head because it was the only power left to me.
I was still tied to the hard floor, shoulders aching, wrists burning. Still forced to watch.
Asteria jerked violently, her back arching against the ropes as if something inside her was fighting to claw its way out.
A raw, broken scream tore from her throat and something cracked inside me. Something that would never heal.
"STOP!" I shouted, my voice breaking.
They didn't even flinch.
Asteria's fingers twitched, curling as if reaching for someone.
I strained against my own bindings until the rope burned through my skin.
"Let me go! She needs me!" My voice collapsed under helplessness.
Her head lifted for the briefest moment, her unfocused eyes finding mine. Just a flicker. Just long enough to shatter me.
"Asteria," I whispered, uselessly. "Love, hold on."
She could not hear me, but I said it anyway.
Her breath hitched, her skin slick with sweat, her lips parted in agony. Every gasping shudder carved itself into me like a blade.
Then her head snapped back.
Her throat glistened in the candlelight. Blood slid from her nose down to her lips. Her chest rose and fell with ragged, failing effort.
"P-Please," she whispered, her voice fragile as glass. Her head fell to the side. She tried to lift it once more, but her strength failed. A moment later, she went still.
"Asteria! Look at me! Stay with me!" I gasped, desperation taking over me.
"Quiet, boy!" one of the women hissed.
The chanting faltered.
They paused, not out of mercy, but to exchange quick, tense words.
"Not working," "too strong," and "stabilize" flew through the air, but their joined hands never dropped. Their circle stayed tight, their formation rigid, as if letting go would mean their own destruction.
Orin's eyes lifted toward the man who had haunted the doorway since the beginning. Their gazes locked. No words were spoken, but a silent agreement settled between them.
He gave a single, deliberate nod.
The decision was made. The air shifted with it.
Their song deepened into something older, vibrating through the floorboards and into my bones. The meaning was lost to me, but the sound made my skin crawl.
Orin and Ignes stepped closer to Asteria, kneeling on either side of her.
Their movements were almost gentle as they placed their fingertips against her temples.
The other women closed the circle around them, their whispers merging into one pulse of sound that filled every corner of the room.
Candles flared upward, flames stretching tall and violent. The walls glowed like they were alive.
The women began to grimace. Some bit their lips, others clenched their teeth. Whatever they were doing demanded pain in return.
Then Asteria's eyes snapped open.
They were all black.
No pupils.
Just blinding emptiness.
Her head arched back, her mouth parted, but no sound came.
"Mother, have mercy," one of the women whispered, voice trembling as horror spread across her face at the sight of Asteria's eyes.
The room erupted into screams.
The women clutched their heads, faces twisted in agony, as if something was clawing its way through their minds.
The storm outside roared to life as if the sky itself had been split open.
Wind slammed against the cottage, shaking the windows. Rain hammered the walls with violent insistence, as if nature itself tried to stop what was happening.
The candles burned wildly and tall, bending under the weight of unseen energy.
Asteria convulsed violently. Silent. Terrifying. Wrong.
The world stretched thin around her, trembling like something enormous pushed against the barrier of this reality.
Blood. Lightning. Screams.
My lungs stung with every breath, the smell of iron forcing itself down my throat.
I wanted to look away. I could not. My body would not let me.
My nails tore into my own palms. Warm blood dripped down my fingers. The pain grounded me but did nothing to save her.
The tension snapped.
A final cry ripped through the air, sharp enough to split it apart. Then silence.
Every candle went out at once, their smoke curling upward in ghostly threads.
The fireplace dimmed, the coals fading to a failing heartbeat.
Bodies lay scattered across the floor, motionless, the silence settling over them in slow, suffocating waves.
Asteria was limp in the center, her skin pale, looking like a burnt candle.
The stranger never moved from the doorway.
Lightning framed him in blinding white, carving him into an inhuman silhouette.
My gaze locked on Asteria.
I counted the seconds.
Waited.
Begged for even the smallest rise of her chest.
Silence pressed in as if the world was collapsing. My vision blurred. It felt like life was draining out of me as surely as it had from them.
"No," I whispered, broken.
"Why?" My voice caught in my throat and disappeared.
The man stepped forward.
He moved with fluid, quiet grace between the fallen women, his boots unnervingly silent.
When he reached her, he knelt and brushed her hair from her face, his hand gentle as he touched her cheek. Then he lifted her effortlessly into his arms.
I stared, emptied. The ringing in my ears drowned everything. Rage, fear, grief, all collapsed into emptiness.
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
The world went hollow.
He turned toward the door, Asteria's limp form in his arms.
As he passed me, he paused. His violet eyes met mine. For a single heartbeat, something human flickered there. Something small, fleeting, gone before I could name it.
"She's still breathing," he said.
The words hit me like air after drowning. Then he walked out into the hall, carrying her away into the darkness.
I stared at the doorway long after he vanished. I did not know if what he gave me was mercy or cruelty. Maybe both.
Darkness filled the room, lightning flashed, illuminating the fallen bodies, then reclaimed them.
A soft, broken whimper broke through the quiet.
Orin moved slowly, disoriented, hands trembling as she pushed herself upright.
When she saw what surrounded her, she froze.
Realization came in pieces, her eyes darting from one still form to another, until the truth struck.
A gasp tore from her throat. She covered her mouth, shaking her head in disbelief. Her cry rose sharp and desperate, cutting straight through the heart.
"Seryn! Seryn, please wake up!"
"Nyra…Maelis…"
She paced in circles from one body to another until her trembling hands found the small corpse of the young girl. The child's hair was damp and tangled, her face frozen in pain and horror.
"No… Myrrin!" The words tore out of her throat like shards of glass.
Orin rocked the lifeless body violently, weeping, screaming, broken.
I could see her heart tearing open in real time, the impossible sorrow of a protector who had failed.
She called names. She begged. She pleaded with voices that would never answer. The bodies around her did not stir.
The only one who responded was Ignes.
She fought to gather herself from the ground, but when she saw the devastation, she collapsed beside Orin.
Their grief filled the room like smoke once had.
The two women found each other in the center of the ruined circle and clung together, sobbing beneath the trembling stormlight.
They had paid their price.
And through the ruin, the sorrow, the devastation, a fragile, selfish relief spread through my chest.
Asteria was alive.
~~~
Even now, when I close my eyes, I can still see that room.
The broken circle.
The silence after.
The way the world seemed to hold its breath.
There are moments that stay with you long after they end.
Moments that carve themselves into your bones
and refuse to fade.
That night was one of them.