×𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑-𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒×

Chapter 36: The Darkness Within

The battlefield was drenched in blood, both from the living and the dead. Lyra knelt beside Kael’s motionless body, her breath coming in ragged gasps as the world around her blurred with tears. The battle continued to rage, but for her, time had stopped.

"Kael," she whispered, her voice breaking. Her trembling hands hovered over his chest, unsure of what to do. She was a skilled mage, but healing had never been her strength. "Please, don't leave me."

The sounds of clashing steel and battle cries echoed in the distance, but none of it mattered to her now. Her magic surged inside her, wild and untamed, desperate to do something—anything—to bring him back.

A shadow passed over her. Lyra looked up to see Elara standing above them, her face stricken with horror. "Lyra, we need to get him out of here. The necromancers’ magic… it’s not over."

Lyra blinked through her tears, confused. "What do you mean? He's gone, Elara! He's—"

"No," Elara interrupted, her voice firm. "He’s not dead. Not yet. But the dark magic… it’s consuming him. If we don’t act now, we’ll lose him for good."

A flicker of hope ignited in Lyra’s chest. She looked down at Kael, her heart pounding. His skin had begun to pale, his body unnaturally still, but there was still life in him. She could feel it, a faint pulse of magic somewhere deep inside.

"What do we do?" Lyra asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Elara knelt beside her, her hands glowing with a faint light. "We need to get him out of the battlefield, away from the necromancers' influence. Their magic is trying to turn him into one of them."

Lyra's heart clenched at the thought. The idea of Kael being turned into a mindless puppet of the enemy was more than she could bear. She stood, determination coursing through her veins. "I'll carry him."

Elara nodded. "I'll cover you. We need to move fast."

Lyra scooped Kael's limp form into her arms, her magic enhancing her strength as she began to run, Elara casting spells behind them to ward off the advancing undead. The battlefield blurred around them as they made their way toward the safety of the city’s inner walls.

The healers in Aeloria’s fortress worked tirelessly to keep Kael alive, their hands glowing with restorative magic. Lyra stood just outside the chamber, her heart pounding as she waited for news. Every moment felt like an eternity.

Elara stood beside her, her face pale from the exertion of the battle. "He’s strong, Lyra. If anyone can pull through this, it’s Kael."

Lyra didn’t respond. She couldn’t. The fear of losing him had lodged itself deep in her chest, and no amount of reassurances could ease it. She had never allowed herself to care for anyone like this, and now, when everything was on the line, the thought of losing him was unbearable.

The door to the chamber creaked open, and one of the healers stepped out, her face weary but calm. "We’ve stabilized him for now. But the necromancers’ magic is deep in his system. It’s going to be a long battle to purge it from his body."

"Can I see him?" Lyra asked, her voice trembling.

The healer nodded. "He’s not conscious, but he’s fighting. You can stay with him."

Lyra entered the room, her heart heavy. Kael lay on the bed, his face pale and drawn, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. She knelt beside him, taking his hand in hers. It was cold, but it was still alive.

"I’m here, Kael," she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. "I’m not going to let you go."

Days passed, and though Kael remained unconscious, his condition slowly improved. The healers worked around the clock, drawing out the dark magic bit by bit. But even as his body healed, a darkness lingered in the air around him—an oppressive, heavy presence that filled Lyra with dread.

The battle outside the city walls had reached a stalemate. Braden’s forces had been pushed back, but they were far from defeated. The necromancers had retreated, but they were still out there, waiting for their moment to strike again.

And then, one night, as Lyra sat by Kael’s bedside, something changed. She had been dozing in the chair beside him when a strange sensation jolted her awake—a cold, creeping feeling that crawled up her spine.

She blinked, her eyes focusing on Kael’s face. His eyes were open, but they weren’t the warm, familiar eyes she knew. They were dark, void-like, as though something else was looking through them.

"Kael?" Lyra whispered, her heart pounding.

He didn’t respond. His hand twitched in hers, and for a brief moment, she felt a surge of something cold and foreign—a dark energy that wasn’t his own.

"Kael, it’s me. It’s Lyra," she said, her voice shaking as she gripped his hand tighter.

His eyes flickered, and for a brief second, she saw a glimmer of recognition. But then, the darkness returned, and his body tensed.

"No," she whispered, her heart racing. "You have to fight it. You’re stronger than this."

But Kael’s body convulsed, a low, guttural sound escaping his throat. The darkness swirling around him grew thicker, and Lyra could feel it pressing down on her, suffocating her.

"Lyra…"

The voice was faint, barely audible, but it was him. Somewhere deep inside, Kael was still fighting.

"Kael, I’m here," she said, tears streaming down her face. "I’m not leaving you."

The darkness pulsed, and for a moment, Lyra thought she might be overwhelmed by it. But then, something inside her snapped—a fierce, burning resolve that cut through the fear and despair.

"No," she growled, her magic flaring to life. "I won’t lose you to this."

Lyra placed her hands on Kael’s chest, her magic surging through her body like wildfire. She poured everything she had into him, focusing on the tiny flicker of light she could still feel within him—the part of Kael that was still fighting to stay.

The darkness pushed back, a cold, violent force that threatened to swallow them both. But Lyra refused to give in. She could feel Kael’s spirit beneath the surface, fighting alongside her, struggling to break free.

"Come back to me," she whispered, her voice fierce. "I know you’re still in there, Kael. Come back."

For a moment, everything went still. The darkness stopped its advance, and the room seemed to hold its breath.

And then, slowly, Kael’s eyes cleared. The darkness faded, retreating into the corners of the room, and his body relaxed. His hand squeezed hers weakly.

"Lyra," he whispered, his voice hoarse.

She let out a sob of relief, her magic slowly receding as she collapsed beside him, exhausted but filled with hope. "You’re back."

Kael’s eyes fluttered shut again, but this time, it was the calm of sleep, not the oppressive hold of the necromancers’ magic. Lyra leaned her head against the bed, her heart still racing, but for the first time in days, she allowed herself to believe that they had won this battle.

Outside the chamber, Elara stood watch, her expression grim. She could feel the echoes of the dark magic that had plagued Kael, and she knew that the battle was far from over. The enemy was still out there, and the darkness that had touched Kael was still lurking in the shadows.

But for now, at least, they had a moment of respite. And that, Elara thought, was something worth fighting for.