The Shadowbound Prophecy

Chapter 25: The Strength of Bonds

The dawn broke softly over the mountain range, casting long golden beams across the jagged peaks. The previous night's intensity still hung between them, though the exhaustion in Harry's body was somewhat eased by the warmth that lingered from the shared moment with Seraphina. The journey ahead weighed heavily on his mind, but for once, he felt an unexpected calm. Seraphina's presence beside him, her touch, her kiss—they gave him a clarity and purpose he hadn't known he needed.

As they descended into the next valley, Victoria Aosa, the Demon Queen, led them with her usual commanding grace. The fiery aura surrounding her had dimmed somewhat in the early light, but there was no mistaking the raw power she held. Her dark, elegant wings shifted ever so slightly as she moved, a constant reminder of her demonic heritage. Harry had seen her tear through enemies with ruthless efficiency, but with Seraphina, her demeanor softened—though not by much.

Victoria's voice broke the early morning silence. "We're getting closer. I can feel the shift in the magic around us. This land is charged, and it's unstable."

Harry glanced up at her, concern tugging at his mind. He, too, could feel the uneasy current in the air, like the very earth was holding its breath in anticipation. "The Fallen God," he murmured. "You think we're nearing his domain?"

Victoria's expression darkened, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. "Perhaps. Or perhaps this is just another barrier meant to stop us. The gods are clever—they won't let us approach him easily. We'll face more challenges before we reach our destination."

Harry knew she was right. Nothing about their journey had been easy. But after the battles they had fought and the sacrifices they had made, turning back wasn't an option. They were too far in now, with too much at stake.

Victoria came to a halt at the edge of a small rise. Below them, a winding river cut through the valley, its waters shimmering under the sunlight. The scene was deceptively peaceful, but Harry could feel the tension in the air. Something was waiting for them—he could sense it.

Seraphina stepped closer to him, her wings brushing against his arm. "Do you feel that?" she asked quietly, her eyes scanning the landscape.

Harry nodded. "Yeah. There's something wrong here."

Victoria's gaze narrowed as she surveyed the riverbank. "It's not natural. The magic is disturbed. Stay alert."

The three of them descended toward the river, their senses on high alert. As they neared the water, the air grew cooler, and the current of energy that Harry had felt earlier became more pronounced. It was like the magic of the land was coiling, waiting for the right moment to strike.

Suddenly, a sharp cry echoed through the valley. Harry's heart jumped, and his hand flew to the hilt of his sword. His eyes darted around, searching for the source of the sound, but the landscape was still, save for the gentle flow of the river.

Seraphina tensed beside him, her hand resting on her own weapon. "What was that?"

Before anyone could answer, a figure appeared on the far side of the river. At first glance, it looked human—a man, dressed in worn robes, with long, dark hair falling over his shoulders. But as the figure stepped closer, Harry could see the faint glow of divine energy radiating from him. The man's eyes shimmered with an otherworldly light, and the power he carried was palpable.

"A demigod," Victoria hissed under her breath. Her wings flared out slightly, her muscles tensing as she prepared for battle.

The demigod's voice boomed across the water. "Turn back, mortals. You tread on sacred ground. The path you seek is barred to you."