Chapter 15
Morgana's Shadowed Past
The curse Morgana unleashed years ago resurfaces, now a tangible threat amplified by the night's dark magic. She must confront her greatest fear and the consequences of her past mistake.
The crimson moon, a swollen eye in the bruised velvet of the night, bled its infernal light onto Oakhaven. It painted the cobblestones in shades of rust and dried blood, and cast long, skeletal shadows that danced with a life of their own. I felt its pull, a familiar ache in my bones, a summons to the Solstice eve, a night that always promised both revelation and ruin. This year, the promise felt heavier, laced with a dread that clung to me like grave dust.
The air in my study was thick with the scent of dried herbs and old parchment, a comforting perfume that usually soothed the frantic flutter in my chest. Tonight, it did little to dispel the unease. The oak desk, scarred with the marks of countless incantations, felt cold beneath my fingertips. My gaze drifted to the framed portrait on the wall, a younger me, her eyes bright with a hope I no longer recognized. Beside her, a gap where another face should have been, a space forever hollowed by my carelessness.
The curse. The word itself was a shard of ice in my gut. It had been a foolish, impulsive act, born of a desperate grief I hadn't known how to wield. I’d been so young, so certain of my power, so blind to its potential for devastation. I’d meant to mend, to restore, but the threads of magic had frayed in my grasp, twisting into something monstrous. And Silas… Silas had been swallowed by it, a phantom limb that ached with his absence.
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