The Shadowbound Prophecy

Chapter 22: The Weight of Power

The sky darkened as the sun dipped below the jagged horizon, casting long shadows across the terrain. The air was cool, almost unnaturally so, as if the gods themselves were watching and whispering. A sense of foreboding clung to every step, heavy and persistent. Harry could feel it pressing down on him, tightening around his chest like a vice.

They had been traveling for days now, with no clear sign of the Fallen God, no tangible clue that they were heading in the right direction. Each day felt like a test of endurance, both physical and mental. Harry's strength had been waning ever since the battle with the demigod, his power growing more unpredictable with each passing hour. The seal on his abilities seemed to fluctuate between tightening like a prison and unraveling like a threadbare cloth.

He glanced over at Seraphina, who walked beside him, her face a mask of quiet determination. Ever since the fight, she had been keeping a close eye on him, more protective than usual. Harry hadn't said anything, but he could feel the weight of her concern, like a shadow that followed him wherever he went. It wasn't just his exhaustion that worried her. It was the way his power flared, uncontrolled, every time they were pushed to the brink. She knew, as he did, that one day the seal would fail completely, and when that happened, they would all be in danger—perhaps even from him.

On Harry's other side, Victoria walked silently. The Seventh Demon Queen had been a constant presence on their journey, but her motives, her thoughts, were always shrouded in layers of mystery. While her expression was as stoic as ever, Harry could feel something different today—a tension that wasn't just from their relentless pursuit of the Fallen God. He could sense it, simmering just beneath the surface, an unspoken anxiety that even she, with all her strength, couldn't quite suppress.

"We need to rest," Seraphina said quietly, breaking the silence. Her voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, a gentle insistence that Harry knew too well.

Victoria stopped and turned to face them both. Her dark eyes flickered over Harry, assessing him as though he were some fragile piece of glass that might shatter at any moment. "Resting will only give the gods more time to prepare their next move."

Harry felt the tension between the two women, a constant undercurrent that had been growing since they began this journey. Seraphina's loyalty to him was unwavering, but it clashed with Victoria's ruthless pragmatism. Neither of them fully trusted the other, and though they had a common goal, the friction was undeniable.

"We can't keep pushing him like this," Seraphina continued, her gaze never leaving Victoria. "He's exhausted, and if the seal breaks completely before we're ready—"

Victoria cut her off with a sharp wave of her hand. "We don't have the luxury of waiting until everything is perfect. The gods will not rest, and neither can we. Harry understands this."

Harry swallowed, feeling the weight of their expectations pressing down on him. He knew Victoria was right; time wasn't on their side. But Seraphina wasn't wrong either. He could feel his body breaking down, his energy fading faster than he could replenish it. Every time he used his power, it left him weaker, more drained, as though the seal itself was feeding off him.

"I'll be fine," he said, though the words felt hollow even as they left his lips. He could see the doubt in Seraphina's eyes, but she said nothing, merely tightening her grip on the hilt of her sword as though preparing for whatever came next.

Victoria's eyes softened, but only slightly. "We'll rest soon, but not here. We're too exposed."

Without waiting for further argument, she turned and continued walking, her cloak billowing behind her like a shadow of death.