Nathaniel's eyes moved around the place, checking the place one last time.
It's over, he said quietly. His voice sounded normal again, without the strange echo from before.
Zuriel stepped forward carefully. His wand stayed raised as he tested the air.
The air feels normal again.
Lucien slowly lowered the shield spell around his hands.
This place is real now. I can feel it.
Nikolai walked up beside me and placed a steady hand on my back.
It's done.
I looked around the ruined room. Blood stained the floor. Broken magic symbols were scattered across the stone, and the mean-looking blade still lay where it had fallen.
Slowly, we began moving toward the exit.
The path we came through earlier was open now.
Moonlight shined through the broken stone entrance, lighting up the quiet dungeon ruins outside. Cold night air drifted into the room.
For the first time in what felt like hours, the air felt calm.
The danger finally felt far away.
As the others climbed out, Sir Nathaniel stayed behind for a moment. His eyes settled on the cursed blade lying on the floor.
He stepped forward and carefully wrapped the Talim ng Ligalig in a cloth marked with sealing spells.
The air shifted slightly, almost like the dungeon itself was breathing out. Maybe it was because the illusion had finally been destroyed.
Zuriel, already standing near the exit, glanced back.
You're really taking that thing.
Nathaniel didn't look at him.
Better with us than left here.
He finished tying the cloth with three thin ropes and a paper covered in strange markings. A soft blue glow spread across the folds before fading away.
Then Nathaniel turned and stepped out of the place.
Behind him, the ground rumbled softly.
It sounded like something deep underground had just moved in its sleep.
The walk back to the tavern felt longer than it should have.
Smoke from the burning leaves still clung to the air. The scent of blood stuck to my clothes.
Eurydice's screams still rang in the back of my head. I was still in shock over how I used the Book of Nephilim. My memory felt okay, but I couldn't really trust it because I had lost so much of it before. I didn't know what to think.
None of us spoke much after the fight.
We just walked through the quiet jungle, bruised and exhausted, each of us lost in our own thoughts.
Even the forest felt too quiet.
By the time we reached the tavern, the moon was already high above the barangay hall.
Soft solar lights glowed through the broken capiz shell windows.
Inside, the damage from the aswang attack was still there. Burn marks stained the wooden floor. Broken glass and splintered wood were scattered across the room.
Eris was already inside.
The moment I saw her, something clicked in my memory.
She was the same girl I had seen after I was rescued--right after Zuriel and Sir Nathaniel pulled me out of the cult building.
She had been there that night.
She sat near one of the windows, but stood up the moment we entered.
Her eyes moved across each of us slowly, taking in the blood on our clothes, the silence between us, and the things none of us were saying.
No one spoke as we walked inside.
My legs felt weak as I crossed the room. I didn't even try to find a chair.
I slid down the wall and sat on the floor, resting my back against the wooden panels.
The cool floor pressed against my legs.
My blouse clung to my damp skin, and my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Zuriel stood a few steps away.
His body looked tense, like he was still ready for another fight. His wand stayed in his hand.
You could have died back there, he said.
I flinched.
You think this is a game, he continued. That we can just guess what's happening inside your head and hope it doesn't kill us next time.
He crossed his arms, his brows pulled together.
We can't protect you if you won't help us understand what's going on.
I stared down at the floor.
My jaw tightened. My breathing slowly became uneven.
Zuriel spoke again, his voice slightly lower.
Gehan. You think we can guess what's in your head. That it won't hurt someone next time.
We saw your eyes.
That wasn't just magic.
The words hung in the air.
Quiet, but heavy.
I said nothing.
For a moment, something like regret crossed Zuriel's face, but he didn't take the words back.
Fine, he muttered, stepping away.
You don't understand.
The words burst out of me before I could stop them.
My voice cracked.
You think I wanted this? I said. You think I asked for some voice to live inside my head and make me wonder if my own thoughts are even mine?
Zuriel stopped moving.
He didn't answer.
Lucien stepped forward first.
He knelt down beside me, leaving a little space between us.
People used to look at me like I was dangerous too, he said gently. Before they even knew what I could do.
I know that look they gave you.
I looked at him.
My eyes were burning, but I felt a small wave of gratitude.
Then Nikolai moved from the corner of the room.
He crouched beside me and pulled a folded handkerchief from his pocket.It looked old and slightly stained, but clean.
He held it out without saying anything.
I stared at the cloth for a moment before looking up at him.
You don't have to explain anything yet, Nikolai said quietly. But I'm not walking away from you.
My hands moved slowly toward the cloth.
They were still shaking.
Dirt filled the lines of my nails, and dried blood marked my wrist.
I took the handkerchief.
When our fingers brushed, something flickered in my mind. (A memory.Golden eyes.A blade.The smell of rope and blood.)
My chest tightened.
But I said nothing.
Eris walked over next.
Her violet-pink hair had been tied back roughly, and dust marked her cheeks.
She sat beside me without hesitation.
You're not something to fear, she said firmly.
You're someone who survived.
That matters.
Another figure stepped into the room quietly.
Sir Nathaniel.
He had been standing near the hallway.
After a moment, he walked over and crouched beside me, adjusting his glasses.
Gehan, do you remember what I promised you?
I blinked slowly and nodded.
You said you would help me remember who I was.
Nathaniel smiled softly.
I meant that.
Come back with us. Train under me.
I'll help you uncover the truth about your past, and I'll make sure you stay safe while we do it.
A small breath escaped my lips.
For the first time that night, something like hope flickered inside my chest.
Okay, I whispered.
I want to remember.
Then a voice slipped quietly into my mind.
(Don't trust him.)
The words felt cold against my thoughts.
(He hides things. He keeps you close with kindness.)
My chest tightened.
No, I whispered under my breath. You're wrong. He's done nothing but protect me.
(Even birds in cages can feel good when they don't know they are trapped), the voice whispered.
(Especially when they are built with gentle hands.)
I squeezed my eyes shut.
You don't know him, I whispered inside my mind.
And you don't know me.
The voice didn't answer.
It simply stayed there.
Waiting.
The handkerchief in my lap suddenly felt heavier.
Nathaniel still looked at me with the same calm patience.
Around us, the others slowly started to relax.
But my chest still felt tight.
Later, I found myself standing alone in the small hallway near the kitchen.
The silence there felt strange.
Too quiet.
I gripped the edge of the wash basin.
Cold water ran over my hands as I scrubbed them again and again.
The water turned pink as it spiraled down the drain.
No matter how much I washed, it felt like the blood would never leave.
My fingers trembled.
It wasn't just Aswangs blood on the floor.
Some of it had been human.
One of the men who worked at the inn.
He turned into an aswang, and I saw it in his eyes --he didn't want to do it, but he couldn't stop himself.
I felt so much guilt. I remembered his face twisted in pain right before everything went quiet.
The soap slipped from my hands.
I grabbed it too hard and it cracked.
My breath shook as I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against the edge of the sink.
The cold porcelain steadied me.
For a moment.
I looked up at the mirror.
The girl staring back at me didn't feel like myself.
You're not even scared, I whispered to my reflection.
You're just tired.
My voice sounded distant.
I thought about my mother.
The last time she hugged me.
The smell of her coconut shampoo.
Her gentle voice telling me to breathe slowly.
One breath at a time, anak.
Would she even recognize me now...??
A girl who could summon books.
A girl who watched things die.
A girl who kept hearing voices that weren't hers.
Tears filled my eyes.
I bit my lip, trying to stop them.
You're just tired, I told myself again.
You're not breaking.
You're not breaking.
But the sob still slipped out.
I looked down at my hands.
The blood was gone..
But it still felt.... like it was there.