Cillian stopped abruptly, his boots grinding against gravel as he turned slightly toward Soren. The sudden halt forced Soren to stop as well, his brows furrowing in confusion.
"What's up with you?" Soren asked cautiously, his voice low but steady. He studied Cillian's posture—the way his shoulders seemed tense despite his otherwise calm demeanor—and felt a pang of unease. "You've been acting weird all night."
For a moment, Cillian didn't respond. He stood there with his back partially turned to Soren, his gaze fixed on something in the distance that wasn't really there. The faint glow of lantern light caught the edge of his profile, highlighting the sharp lines of his face and the quiet storm brewing in his eyes.
Finally, he spoke—but when he did, his tone was softer than Soren expected. There was no edge to it, no sarcasm or disdain—just a quiet sincerity that felt almost out of place.
"Nothing's wrong," Cillian said gently, turning to face Soren fully now. His expression was calm, but there was an undeniable weight behind his words. "I just needed some air."
Soren raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "Air?" he repeated skeptically. "You don't exactly strike me as the 'fresh air' type."
Cillian allowed a faint smile to tug at one corner of his mouth—a rare gesture that only added to Soren's confusion. "Maybe not," he admitted softly. "But tonight… I needed it."
Soren hesitated for a moment before stepping closer, his voice dropping slightly as he asked, "Is this about Aaron? Or… something else?"
Cillian's smile faded as quickly as it had appeared. He didn't answer immediately; instead, he glanced up at the night sky for a brief moment before meeting Soren's gaze again.
"It doesn't matter," Cillian replied quietly but firmly. "Let's head back before they start asking questions."
Soren frowned but didn't press further. He nodded reluctantly and gestured toward the tent with a tilt of his head. "Alright," he said simply. "But if you need to talk… you know where to find me."
Cillian didn't respond; he simply turned and began walking back toward the circus entrance without another word.
But amidst all this, Cillian stood still, his gaze fixed on Soren.
Soren had taken the lead now, walking ahead toward the entrance of the main tent where their group waited inside. His steps were purposeful but unhurried, his silhouette illuminated by the faint glow of lanterns lining the path. Cillian watched him for a moment longer before his gaze shifted slightly—away from Soren and toward something else entirely.
A flicker of movement caught his eye—a shadow disappearing behind one of the smaller tents nearby. Without hesitation or explanation, Cillian turned on his heel and slipped away into the crowd.
He moved quickly but quietly, weaving through clusters of villagers and performers without drawing attention to himself. His sharp eyes scanned the area until they landed on a tent tucked away at the edge of the grounds—a small structure with faded purple cloth that seemed almost forgotten amidst the chaos.
Cillian approached it cautiously, his movements deliberate as he lifted the cloth flap to step inside.
The moment he did, moonlight spilled in behind him, illuminating the space in a soft silver glow—and revealing what lay within.
A purple magic circle stretched across the ground in intricate detail, its swirling runes glowing faintly in response to the light. The symbols etched into its surface were unfamiliar yet hauntingly beautiful, their patterns twisting and turning like living things. The air inside was cold—unnaturally so—and carried a faint hum that resonated deep within Cillian's chest.
He froze at the sight, his breath hitching slightly as he took a step closer. The circle pulsed faintly beneath his feet, almost as if it were alive.
"HAH!" Cillian scoffed. "This'll be fun," he murmured under his breath with a smirk on his face, his voice was barely audible over the hum as he took a step forward.
Without hesitation, he placed one boot onto the edge of the circle. The glow intensified immediately, spreading outward like ripples on water. Cillian didn't flinch; he moved further into its center, his posture calm but deliberate.
He began to recite something—a string of words that sounded like an incantation but carried no recognizable language. His voice was steady yet commanding, each syllable resonating with power as they intertwined with the pulsing energy of the circle. The runes glowed brighter with every word until they erupted in a burst of light so intense it swallowed everything around him.
When the light faded, Cillian found himself standing in an entirely different world.
The ground beneath him was smooth and crystalline, shimmering faintly in hues of violet and silver. Massive spires rose around him—towering structures made of translucent stone that seemed to hum with their own energy. The sky above was a swirling canvas of deep purples and blacks streaked with flashes of white lightning that illuminated the landscape in brief bursts.
The air here was colder than anything he'd felt before—sharp and biting yet strangely invigorating. A faint mist hung low to the ground, curling around his boots as if trying to pull him deeper into this strange realm.
Cillian's sharp eyes scanned his surroundings quickly but methodically. He didn't speak or move immediately; instead, he stood still for a moment longer, letting his senses adjust to this new environment.
"Interesting," he muttered quietly to himself before taking a cautious step forward.
Cillian's boots echoed faintly against the crystalline floor as he walked down the vast hallway. The walls shimmered in hues of violet and silver, their surfaces alive with faint pulses of energy that seemed to hum in rhythm with his heartbeat. Massive spires rose on either side, their jagged edges glowing faintly in the dim light, casting eerie shadows that danced across the ground. The air was cold—sharp enough to bite at his skin—but it carried an electric charge that made his senses sharper, his instincts keener.
At the far end of the hallway stood a door—a towering structure carved from dark stone, etched with glowing runes that twisted and shifted like living things. The runes pulsed faintly as he approached, their intricate patterns almost hypnotic. Cillian slowed his steps, his sharp gaze locked onto the door as if it might spring to life at any moment.
Without hesitation, he reached out and pushed it open.
The room beyond was a warped nightmare—a deadly reflection of a circus performance space. High platforms stretched toward a ceiling that seemed impossibly far away, connected by frayed ropes and precarious beams that swayed slightly in an unseen breeze. Below them lay a pit filled with jagged spikes glinting ominously in the faint light. The air smelled of rust and decay, mingled with the acrid scent of old magic.
Cillian stepped inside cautiously, his sharp eyes scanning every corner of the room. His gaze swept upward—and froze.
There she was.
Luxana.
She stood far above him on one of the high platforms, her back turned toward him. Her long, cascading bright orange hair shimmered like fire under the dim light, falling in waves down her thin frame. She was perfectly still—silent and unmoving—as if she were part of the deadly architecture around her.
Cillian's eyes widened as his breath caught in his throat. His thoughts crashed into each other like waves in a storm, chaotic and relentless.
So this… he thought frantically. So this is what my instincts have been telling me. That—That I'd meet her.HER.Again… but…
His chest tightened as doubt crept into his mind like poison. What if it's not her? What if it's just another trick? Another illusion meant to mess with me?
Before he could move or speak, a loud voice crackled through the room—a sound so sharp it felt like it could split the air itself.
Cillian reacted instinctively, slipping behind a stack of crates near the entrance to avoid being seen. He crouched low, his heart pounding in his chest as he raised his gaze upward to identify the source of the voice.
Above Luxana stood a misty black form—a figure cloaked in shadows that twisted and writhed like smoke caught in a storm.
And in front of Luxana, sat a caged girl. Its shape was barely human but unmistakably sinister: bright orange ponytails on either side of its head mirrored Luxana's fiery hair; zircon blue eyes swirled with eclipses that glowed faintly; and a black veil draped over its face like mourning shrouds. It was trapped inside a cage suspended high above the platform.
"This is the Veiled Horror," the misty form declared in a voice that echoed unnaturally through the room. Its tone was sharp and commanding—like nails scraping against glass. "You must have heard of it."
Luxana remained silent—her posture rigid and unmoving as she stared at the girl without uttering a single word.
Cillian's mind raced as he stared at the figure above her. Xerxes? he thought grimly. Damn it.
The misty form—Xerxes—turned its attention back to Luxana and spoke again, its tone dripping with malice: "Touch the body," it ordered sharply.
Cillian's body jerked involuntarily at those words, causing one of the crates he was hiding behind to topple over with a loud crash.
The crash of the toppled crate echoed through the circus room like a gunshot. Xerxes' glowing eyes snapped downward, narrowing dangerously as its voice boomed: "Who's there?! Show yourself!"
Cillian didn't hesitate. In one fluid motion, he leapt from his hiding spot, his body moving with inhuman speed—a blur of shadow and lightning that seemed to defy gravity. Before anyone could react, he was airborne, closing the distance between himself and Xerxes in an instant. His boots slammed into the crystalline floor as he landed directly in front of the misty figure.
Lightning crackled around him like a storm unleashed, illuminating his sharp features and cold, unyielding gaze. Without a word, Cillian lunged forward, his fist charged with black electricity as it collided with Xerxes' chest. The impact sent ripples of energy through the room, shaking the high platforms and rattling the cage.
Xerxes let out a distorted screech as its misty form writhed under Cillian's grip. "You dare—" it began, but Cillian cut it off with another strike, his movements precise and brutal.
"Shut up," Cillian growled, his voice low and razor-sharp as he pressed harder against Xerxes' shadowy form.
Before he could land another blow, Xerxes dissolved into smoke, slipping through Cillian's fingers like water. It reappeared several feet away, its form twisting and reforming into something darker—more solid. Without hesitation, it retaliated by launching spheres of Pinyana magic toward Cillian.
The orbs screamed through the air like banshees, their energy crackling with raw malice. Cillian dodged the first one with a sharp pivot to the left, then ducked under the second as it exploded against the ground behind him in a burst of dark flames. The third orb came faster—almost too fast—but Cillian twisted his body mid-step and let it sail past him harmlessly.
He countered immediately, raising one hand to summon a bolt of black lightning that shot toward Xerxes like a spear. The attack was fast—blindingly so—but Xerxes shifted again, its misty form dissolving just before the lightning struck.
Cillian clenched his jaw as he skidded backward to regain his footing. His eyes narrowed as he tracked Xerxes' movements across the room. The damn thing was fast—too fast—and its ability to shift between solid and smoke made it nearly impossible to pin down.
Xerxes reappeared above him now, perched on one of the high platforms like a predator eyeing its prey. Its voice echoed through the room again, dripping with malice: "You can't win this fight."
Cillian didn't respond verbally; instead, he raised both hands and unleashed twin bolts of lightning upward toward Xerxes' position. The attack shattered part of the platform but missed its target as Xerxes dissolved into smoke once more.
The misty figure reappeared behind him this time, launching another barrage of Pinyana magic toward his back. Cillian spun around just in time to deflect one orb with a swipe of his lightning-charged hand while dodging the others with quick footwork that kept him moving like liquid shadow.
The fight was relentless—a deadly dance of speed and precision where every move felt like life or death. Cillian's strikes were powerful but calculated; each bolt of lightning he summoned carried enough force to destroy most opponents outright. But Xerxes wasn't most opponents—it was slippery and unpredictable, its attacks fueled by an ancient darkness that seemed to grow stronger with every passing second.
Another orb screamed toward him—this one faster than before—and Cillian barely managed to dodge it by diving to the side. He rolled across the crystalline floor before springing back to his feet in one smooth motion.
"Persistent," Xerxes hissed mockingly as it reformed nearby. "But futile."
Cillian ignored the taunt entirely. His focus remained razor-sharp as he raised one hand again, summoning a massive arc of lightning that split the air between them. The attack was devastating—it tore through part of the room's structure and sent shards of crystalline debris raining down—but once again, Xerxes shifted into smoke before it could connect.
The misty figure reappeared above Luxana now, hovering near her platform like a dark guardian. Its distorted voice boomed through the room: "Touch the body! Do it now!"
Luxana remained silent—her expression blank but her presence unnervingly still.
Cillian's gaze snapped upward toward her briefly before returning to Xerxes with renewed intensity. He charged forward again without hesitation, unleashing another barrage of lightning bolts aimed directly at Xerxes' core.
"Don't even think about it," Cillian growled under his breath as he closed the distance between them once more.
Xerxes dodged each strike effortlessly before retaliating with another wave of Pinyana magic—this time summoning jagged spikes from the ground that shot upward toward Cillian's position. He leapt into the air just in time to avoid being impaled, landing on one of the higher beams with perfect balance despite its precarious sway.
From this elevated position, Cillian launched another attack—a concentrated blast of lightning aimed directly at Xerxes' cage above Luxana's platform. The strike shattered part of its structure but failed to destroy it entirely as Xerxes reinforced its defenses with another burst of dark energy.
To be Continued...