SKATH: The Awakening Of Power

Chapter 18

The black mist enveloped Skath, and the world around him disappeared. He could hear his heart pounding, his senses sharpening as fear slithered into his mind. He had faced many challenges in the past days, but now it seemed that the true test was just beginning. He tried to remain calm, recalling Oighear's lessons: controlling emotions was crucial. He had to stay focused.

Indistinct figures began to emerge from the mist, shadows moving quickly around him. Skath spun in place, gripping his sword firmly, but the figures didn’t come closer. They surrounded him, watching, while whispers slithered into his ears.

"You cannot escape what you are..." murmured a deep, almost familiar voice.

Skath closed his eyes, trying to ignore the whispers. It was a test, a mental trap. He had to stay focused. The shadows kept moving, but none seemed solid, none actually approached. The tension grew, his breathing becoming more labored.

Suddenly, one of the figures stopped in front of him. It was no longer a shadow but a clear, familiar form. Jonah. Or at least a version of him, with a half-burned, scarred face, his green braided hair falling long over his shoulders. "Do you remember me, Skath?" hissed the figure.

Skath stood still, the blood freezing in his veins. "You're not real," he said firmly, tightening his grip on the sword.

Jonah smiled, a twisted, macabre grin. "Maybe not, but your fear of me is real. And until you face it, you will never find me."

The mist thickened around them, as if trying to crush, to suffocate him. But Skath understood that this was the key: he couldn’t let fear overwhelm him, couldn’t give in. He closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on his breathing, on the beating of his heart. When he opened them again, Jonah was gone. The mist began to dissipate, and silence returned.

He was alone.

A deep breath, another step forward.

As the mist cleared, Skath remained still, his heart still heavy from the intensity of the vision. Jonah's disfigured face, his twisted smile, continued to haunt him. He had passed the first test, but unease lingered. He knew it wouldn’t be the last.

"Your courage has allowed you to move forward," whispered a voice, this time familiar. Oighear was there, as always, not physically, but her presence offered invisible support. "But Jonah won’t be so easy to face in the real world."

Skath ran a hand through his long hair, trying to calm himself. "I know the road is still long," he muttered to himself as he continued walking. The trees seemed darker, the wind colder, but something inside him had strengthened. He was no longer the same man as before. The training and the mental test had hardened him.

He advanced for hours, the landscape around him slowly changing, transforming into a harsher land, with jagged rocks and leaden skies. Oighear had said Jonah was like a beacon, and although he still couldn’t sense his presence, he knew that his path would lead him to him. He had to be patient.

As the sun began to set, Skath found himself at a crossroads. Two paths, both equally dark and ominous, branched out before him. There was no indication of which way to go. He stopped, staring at the two options with a growing sense of uncertainty.

"You will never be completely sure of your path," Oighear had said during training, "but you must trust in your choices."

Skath closed his eyes, focusing on the deeper feeling guiding him. The wind blew lightly from one of the directions, as if an invisible force was calling him. He sighed and took his step.

He chose the left path.

Skath walked along the rocky trail, his feet sinking into the uneven ground as the air grew heavier, almost oppressive. The shadows of the skeletal trees stretched around him, and every sound seemed amplified. He was aware that Jonah was watching, somehow. Nothing could be seen, but the feeling of being watched was palpable.

The landscape quickly changed. Now he was in some sort of clearing, at the center of which stood an ancient stone altar, covered in moss. On top, a white stone mask with the appearance of a peacock lay abandoned. The mask's eyes, deeply carved, seemed to watch him, and Skath felt a chill run down his spine.

He couldn’t help but approach. He had seen that mask in his dreams, in the fragments of memories that were beginning to resurface. It was one of Jonah’s masks, the one he had used on Lyra. Skath closed his eyes for a moment, the image of the girl filling his mind. He should have protected her, but now he felt her drifting further away.

His hand hesitated above the mask. “Don’t touch it,” whispered a voice.

Skath advanced cautiously, trying not to get distracted by the mask on the old stone altar. His footsteps echoed in the deserted clearing, and the silence surrounding him was almost suffocating. As he tried to decide what to do, an invisible presence seemed to awaken in the forest. The leaves moved as if stirred by a sudden gust of wind.

From the darkness of the forest emerged an ethereal figure, wrapped in translucent veils that swayed like thin smoke. It was a woman, but not of flesh and bone. Her body seemed made of pure moonlight, with eyes that shone like distant stars. Skath immediately felt an ancient and powerful presence, and his heart raced.

The guardian was a female spirit, the same entity Lyra had encountered long ago.

"Skath," the spirit whispered, her melodious voice seeming to come from every direction. "Your soul seeks answers, but the answers you desire will not lead you to peace."

Skath swallowed, watching her cautiously. "I know Jonah is the key," he said with determination. "I have to find him; I can't waste any more time."

The spirit slowly floated toward him, her face calm and emotionless. "You will find Jonah, but the path you walk will not lead you to him as you expect. He knows your desires, your fears... and he will use them against you."

Skath shook his head. "I don't care. I'll face him."

The spirit gazed at him, then raised a delicate hand. "You are not ready. Not yet. The shadows of your past have not been confronted."

He felt the weight of her words, but inside, his frustration boiled. "Then what must I do? How can I prepare?"

The guardian watched him for a long moment before speaking again. "The past is a part of you, but it is also a place to draw strength from. Only when you accept every fragment of who you are will you be able to find Jonah without falling into his trap. Be careful, Skath. The truth can be a double-edged sword."

Without another word, the spirit vanished into the mist, leaving Skath alone in the clearing.

Silence fell over the clearing again, with only the rustling of the leaves keeping him company. Skath stood still, the spirit's words echoing in his mind. Every step he had taken so far seemed to bring him closer to Jonah, but now doubt crept in: was he truly ready? The past he didn’t remember, the hidden fears... all his certainties wavered.

He took a deep breath, forcing his mind to focus. He couldn’t afford distractions, not now. The road ahead was uncertain, but he had to keep moving. If the past was the key, then he would find a way to confront it.

He continued along the path, leaving behind the altar and the mask, aware of the danger but determined not to stop. As he walked, his thoughts turned to Lyra. What would happen to her? The last time he had seen her, there had been tension between them. She had pulled away, and he hadn't been able to protect her.

The ground became more rugged, and Skath found himself climbing jagged rocks that rose toward the gray sky. The wind grew stronger, howling through the cliffs and making it difficult to distinguish sounds or presences. There was a strange calm before the storm, as if the whole world was holding its breath.

When he finally reached the top of a hill, he saw something that made him stop in his tracks. In the distance, between the low clouds, stood a figure seemingly waiting for him. Skath's heart raced. He knew who it was, even from that distance: Jonah.

His enemy was waiting for him. But Skath knew that before he approached, he had to be certain of one thing: who he truly was.