Radiance - The Alight Archives Book #1

25. An Escape

Another corner and Elaine exhaled a puff of air, a cloud of mist dissipating into the cool air. Yes, this was the right decision, she reassured herself, her resolve hardening with each determined step. 

Yet, that small indulgence of certainty propelling her forward in leaps and bounds could not quell the frantic thundering of her heart against her ribcage. Dueling a homunculus had been one thing, a calculated risk she'd maneuvered through, but could she truly confront a fully grown deathstalker? Alone?

Custas had come to her aid earlier, a fact that anchored her in gratitude and trepidation alike. Had he not intervened, Elaine doubted her own ability to best the creature by herself. However, unlike that encounter, she possessed a single fragment of knowledge that felt like a lifeline: Deathstalkers were easily distracted by light. It seemed like a simplistic deduction to arrive at. After all, most insects and arachnids in the country—whether the size of a carriage or not—were irresistibly drawn to any hint of illumination, especially under the cloak of night.

As a young girl, Elaine recalled countless evenings spent with her brother, Liam, mesmerized by the bizarre dance of countless winged insects as they swarmed from the embrace of the forest canopy. Those daring enough to escape the lurking dangers of nocturnal birds or the stealthy toads hiding just beneath the underbrush often found themselves captivated by the warm glow of the lantern Father had so carefully affixed to their porch. 

The lantern flickered like a beacon of safety, a fragile barrier shielding the insects from the oppressive darkness—their most formidable enemy. In their childish wonder, they observed how these tiny creatures, driven by an instinctive bravery, would venture from the sanctuary of their green havens into a world fraught with peril, drawn inexplicably to the alien warmth of that astral flame.

Elaine fervently hoped her own fate would be more triumphant than those insects whose reckless curiosity led them to a sizzling demise, their bodies leaving behind only a memory of charred remnants. But she was armed with Light Magic. Even with a modest arsenal, she could wield this gift to defend herself, couldn't she? 

Questions about her capacity to control it cycled within her—questions that could fill a novel with uncertainty. Yet, at this moment, she chose to banish those doubts into the suffocating darkness of her mind. If there was a chance to help her friend, she would take it without question.

A scream.

Another of Fearne's screams.

Elaine leaned forward, accelerating into a full sprint. The world around her blurred into strokes of colors as she blitzed around the corner, her shoes skidding dangerously over the stone floor that had been worn down by countless feet. She came to a sudden stop, her heart racing, and her eyes locked onto the scene before her. On the ground lay her friend, panic scorching her features as she scrambled to get away. 

Elaine's gaze darted to the impending danger—the colossal figure of a clicking titan drawing closer, its massive form towering over her. The deathstalker's claws glinted under the fading light, the sharp tips raised above its head, ready to strike. Time seemed to slow as Elaine took in the sight, her instinct to protect her friend kicking in with a fierce urgency.

"No! Get away!" Fearne screamed, throwing a handful of dust at it.

She didn't appear to be injured in any way; there were no visible bruises or cuts marring her porcelain skin. Yet, the question lingered—why hadn't she fled when she had the chance? Most crucially, where was her wand? The absence of that familiar object raised alarm bells in Elaine's mind—why wasn't she invoking a spell to protect herself? 

Just then, the deathstalker, with its twisted, segmented body, fidgeted restlessly. Its mouth, filled with mandibles, dripped with a slimy mixture of saliva and strands of something organic and foul. "Fearne!" Elaine shouted, urgency lacing her tone.