The stone walls of Malakhor’s stronghold loomed high above them, the oppressive air thick with dark magic. The moment the group crossed the threshold, it was clear they had entered a place where light had long been banished. Shadows twisted unnaturally along the walls, and the eerie silence was only broken by the faint whispers of something sinister lurking in the depths.
Finn’s heart pounded in his chest, each beat reminding him of how little time they had left. Lysandra was somewhere inside, trapped, lost in the dark. His grip tightened on the hilt of his sword, his mind consumed by the thought of saving her. Every second they spent here felt like a second too late.
"We don’t have much time," Maelis said, her voice low but urgent. She moved swiftly, her eyes scanning their surroundings, ever the vigilant warrior. "Malakhor knows we’re here. He’ll use everything he has to stop us."
Alaric, still pale from his injury but determined, nodded. "This isn’t just about getting in and out. We need to be ready for whatever he throws at us."
Finn’s jaw clenched. "It’s not just her life we’re fighting for. It’s her soul. Malakhor’s twisted her mind with darkness, and if we don’t get her back soon… I don’t know if there’ll be anything left of her to save."
His words hung in the air like a curse, the weight of the mission pressing down on them all. But none of them were willing to give up. Not now. Not after everything.
They moved deeper into the stronghold, navigating the maze of corridors that seemed to stretch endlessly. The atmosphere grew thicker with every step, the shadows growing longer, darker, until it felt like they were wading through a sea of ink.
Finally, they reached the heart of the fortress, a massive chamber filled with swirling shadows and arcane symbols etched into the walls. At the center of the room, surrounded by a circle of dark energy, was Lysandra.
Finn’s heart lurched at the sight of her. She stood still, her body rigid, her eyes wide and unfocused, as if she were caught in a nightmare she couldn’t escape. Dark tendrils of magic coiled around her like chains, pulling her deeper into the abyss.
"Lysandra!" Finn shouted, rushing forward, but Maelis grabbed his arm, stopping him.
"Wait!" she hissed. "It’s a trap. Look at the symbols. If you go in there now, you’ll fall under the same spell."
Finn’s chest heaved with frustration, but he knew she was right. He couldn’t just rush in without thinking. Not if it meant losing himself too.
"It’s clever, isn’t it?" A cold, mocking voice echoed through the chamber.
Finn’s blood ran cold as Malakhor stepped out of the shadows, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement. He looked at them as if they were nothing more than insects, something to be crushed underfoot.
"Did you really think you could waltz into my domain and take her from me?" Malakhor sneered. "She’s already mine. The darkness has her now."
Finn took a step forward, his eyes blazing with fury. "We’re not leaving without her."
Malakhor’s grin widened. "You misunderstand. She doesn’t want to leave. She’s already made her choice."
The words sent a chill down Finn’s spine, but he refused to believe them. "That’s a lie. Lysandra would never—"
"Would she?" Malakhor interrupted, gesturing toward Lysandra. "Look at her. She’s given in to the shadows, embraced the darkness. She’s one of us now."
Finn’s eyes locked on Lysandra. She still hadn’t moved, still hadn’t spoken. It was as if she were a statue, frozen in place, lost to the world.
"Lysandra!" Finn called out, desperation seeping into his voice. "It’s me, Finn. You have to fight this!"
For a brief moment, Lysandra’s eyes flickered. Her lips parted, as if she was struggling to say something. But then the dark tendrils tightened around her, and the flicker of light in her eyes vanished, swallowed by the shadows.
"She can’t hear you," Malakhor said, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "She belongs to me now."
Finn’s heart pounded, his hands trembling with rage. "I don’t believe you."
"You don’t have to," Malakhor said, stepping closer. "But you will soon enough."
With a flick of his wrist, Malakhor summoned a wave of shadow creatures from the depths of the chamber. They crawled out from the darkness, their glowing eyes fixating on the group with malevolent intent.
"Get ready!" Maelis shouted, drawing her sword and positioning herself in front of Alaric, who was still recovering from his wound.
The creatures charged, and the battle began. Finn fought with everything he had, his blade cutting through the shadow creatures as they swarmed toward them. But his mind wasn’t on the fight. It was on Lysandra. Every strike, every parry, was fueled by his desperation to save her.
"Finn, focus!" Maelis called out, parrying a blow from one of the creatures.
"I am focused!" Finn shouted back, but he knew his heart wasn’t in the fight. Not fully. Not while Lysandra was still trapped in the dark.
As the battle raged on, Finn found himself near the edge of the circle where Lysandra stood. He could see the struggle in her eyes, the faint flicker of resistance as she fought against the darkness that held her.
"Lysandra," he whispered, his voice filled with emotion. "I know you’re still in there. I know you’re fighting. Don’t let him win."
Her eyes met his, and for a split second, he saw her—really saw her—the Lysandra he knew, the one who had fought beside him, the one who had never given up.
But then Malakhor’s voice boomed through the chamber, cold and unforgiving. "She’s not yours to save, Finn."
The dark tendrils tightened around Lysandra, pulling her deeper into the shadows, and Finn’s heart sank as he saw her begin to fade.
"No!" he shouted, rushing toward her, but the shadows blocked his path, pushing him back.
"You can’t save her," Malakhor taunted, his laughter echoing through the chamber. "She’s already gone."
Finn’s chest tightened with despair, but he refused to give up. "Lysandra, please. Come back to us. Come back to me."
For a moment, it seemed like she might. Her hand twitched, and the shadows around her flickered. But then, just as quickly, the darkness surged again, and she vanished into the shadows, leaving nothing behind. Finn’s heart shattered.
"Lysandra!" he screamed, his voice raw with anguish, but there was no response. She was gone.
Behind him, the battle continued to rage, but Finn could barely hear it. The world around him blurred, the sounds of swords clashing and creatures roaring fading into the background. All he could think about was Lysandra—lost in the darkness, slipping further and further away from him.
"You see?" Malakhor’s voice cut through the haze, cold and mocking. "She’s mine now."
Finn’s hands shook with fury as he turned to face Malakhor, his eyes blazing with rage. "I won’t let you take her."
Malakhor smiled, his eyes gleaming with malice. "It’s already done. And now… it’s your turn."
With a wave of his hand, Malakhor unleashed a torrent of dark energy that surged through the chamber, swirling like a storm. The shadows grew thicker, darker, consuming everything in their path.
The group barely had time to react before the darkness was upon them, swallowing the chamber in a wave of shadowy force. Alaric and Maelis fought desperately to hold their ground, but the sheer power of the attack was overwhelming.
Finn’s heart pounded as the shadows closed in around him. Lysandra was gone, lost to the darkness. And now, Malakhor was going to take them all.