Isle of Beasts and Shadows (The Forgotten Isle Saga #1)

Chapter 33

“You’re a fool,” Sirius growled as he got to his feet, now in the blackened world.

Duran drew his sword as Sirius gave his scythe a twirl, the metallic blade catching the dim light that seeped through the eerie atmosphere.

“You and I had a deal when I first set foot in this kingdom. Now I intend to keep my promises.” Sirius threw his scythe to the side, the cold metal clattering against the unforgiving ground, and reached his hands out towards Duran.

Just by trying to examine the world of Limbo, its twisted forms and ghostly figures haunted Duran, leaving him still confused. All around them, human-shaped souls stood, their empty eyes fixed on the unfolding confrontation.

“Where are we? Where have you taken me?” Fear consumed Duran as he yelled in anger, clenching his fists, his knuckles turning white with tension. Beads of sweat formed along his forehead, glistening in the surreal light that bathed the desolate landscape. It was obvious, yet he was trying not to show it, to maintain a semblance of control in the face of the unknown.

Sirius could smell his fear, the sharp tang of adrenaline filling the air. It was exhilarating, a heady mix of power and anticipation.

“Isn’t it obvious? This, my friend, is your grave. It would cause quite the commotion if our living audience were to see the aftermath after I’m finished with you.” Sirius spoke without an ounce of emotion, his voice carrying a chilling finality. “What’s the fun in keeping it a secret? We could make this a night to remember, that’s for sure.” He inched closer, his movements deliberate and menacing. Every step Sirius took towards the man cowering in fear was mirrored by Duran with a quick step in the opposite direction, a dance of predator and prey in the shadowy realm of Limbo.

“Miscreant! Let me free of your vile world. Now! I demand you!” Duran pointed his sword towards Sirius. The weapon rapidly shook in his hands, the metal glinting in the dim light of the darkened ballroom.

“Oh, no. You don’t demand it. You need it. You’re scared. I can sense the fear seeping from your pores.” Sirius continuously stepped in Duran’s direction until his back finally hit the wall of the ballroom, the stones cool against his skin. A twisted smile played on Sirius’s lips as he inched closer, his eyes glinting with a sinister light. “It’s been far too long since I have had a taste of a fresh soul.”

Sirius drew even closer, taking almost no notes of Duran’s sword until he grabbed the blade with his hand, the sharp edge cutting into his flesh. Gold blood oozed from the wound, staining the weapon and the floor beneath.

A sudden sensation of no control washed over Sirius’s body, his movements no longer his own.

“Get out of me!” Sirius screamed as he stumbled back from Duran, his eyes wide with shock. It was as if he were speaking to someone else, a presence within him taking over. Sirius shook his head, the realization dawning on him. Father.

“You keep trying to ruin everything for me, don’t you, Sirius?” The words spilled from Sirius’s mouth, his voice hollow and distant. Panic surged through Sirius as he struggled against the invading force.

“No.” He cried out, his hands shaking as the gold blood from his wounded hand trickled down his face. His will faltered, but a flicker of defiance remained. “Get out of my body, Father.”

“What the hell is going on?” Duran fell to the floor in terror, his heart pounding in his chest as his eyes widened in shock. The sight before him was so unexpected, so jarring, that it took a moment for his mind to register the gravity of the situation.

“Oh, I’ll tell you what’s going on.” Sirius’s voice dripped with a sadistic tone that seemed to permeate the very air around him, sending chills down Duran’s spine. It was as if the words were not truly coming from Sirius, but from another entity entirely. It was Father speaking through Sirius, his features contorted by an unseen force. The realization struck Duran like a physical blow—Sirius had been possessed.

“Isn’t it simply astounding? The overwhelming power that resonates within you... It’s truly exhilarating!” Father chuckled, all sense of control absent from Sirius’s gaze as his eyes met Duran’s.

Amidst Sirius’s clenched fists and a menacing smirk, Duran retreated to a corner. Slowly advancing with his scythe poised, just as the moment hung in the balance, Sirius’s gaze shifted to his own hand. With a smile playing on his lips, he reached out to Duran, his touch transitioning from a casual caress to an abrupt grasp of the chin, drawing their faces drastically close.

“Mortals! So interesting... to cower in fear, yet hold no interest in what they truly are. How pathetic,” the possessed Sirius remarked.

As he shifted his hand, a faint aura surrounded him, pulsating with a malevolent energy that seemed to sap the very essence from the air. Fixing his gaze upon Duran, his eyes, once vibrant, now bore a hollow emptiness that mirrored the fading hues of sunset. With a haunting grace, Duran’s form withered, each breath escaping him a feeble whisper in the room’s vastness until he collapsed with a disturbing crunch.

“Ah, yes. We have a ship to catch, don’t we?” The false Sirius sneered, a cruel smile twisting his features as he strode towards the towering doors of the palace. With each step, the shadows seemed to coil around him, his figure shrouded in darkness that devoured the feeble light struggling to pierce through.

All lost souls who dared to cross his path met a swift end, their pleas drowned out by the eerie silence that followed the swing of his scythe. Their essence dissipated into the malevolent aura surrounding him, fueling his power with each soul consumed, a chilling display of otherworldly strength.

“It seems the five ships have already set sail,” the possessed Sirius mused, his gaze drifting towards the distant town where the witch’s presence lingered in his memory. “Witches know everything. Isn’t that right, Sirius?” His words, laced with a dark amusement, hinted at a twisted connection that transcended the boundaries of the living and the dead. As he glanced at Duran’s lifeless husk, a silent warning to the citizens of Eldaraya hung in the air, a grim reminder of the consequences that awaited those who dared to defy the darkness that now enveloped their once vibrant land.

“Teleport me to the ship,” Sirius demanded, his voice filled with urgency as he slammed his fist against her alchemy table. Odelle, the old crone, remained composed, though her heart raced. The ingredients scattered across the table, a reflection of the tension in the room.

“Why would I, Dark Beast?” she responded calmly, her gaze steady. “You are not the emotionless Miscreant I met earlier. Who are you?” Her words hinted at a deeper understanding, a knowledge that lay beyond the surface.

A hint of amusement danced in his eyes. Leaning closer, he observed Odelle’s reaction, noting the concern that flickered momentarily across her face as she glanced at Duran’s still form beside him.

“Teleport me now, and your death will be merciful,” Sirius demanded, his tone brooking no argument.

“As you wish,” Odelle agreed, her voice soft yet unwavering.

With a fluid motion, she raised her arms and chanted the ancient spell, the words weaving a mystical tapestry around them. A portal shimmered into existence before Sirius, a gateway to his next move.

With a smirk, Sirius pushed Duran’s lifeless body through the portal first, a cruel gesture of his power. He had plans to store his body in Limbo to use as a vessel for later. After all, no one but him knew he was dead.

“You won’t prevail, Dark Beast,” Odelle warned, her eyes narrowing with resolve. “They will defeat you in your own twisted game.”

Sirius turned back to face her, his expression a mix of amusement and challenge. “What makes you so sure that will happen, Crone?” he taunted, his confidence unshaken as he prepared to step through the portal.

“That girl has strengths beyond anything you have,” Odelle stated firmly, her voice carrying a note of prophecy. “I saw it in her. I know it’s there. It’s a remarkable power for a young girl to possess. I’d be worried if I were you.” Her words lingered in the air, a warning wrapped in mystery and intrigue.

Sirius took a step back, a wry smile playing on his lips as he responded to her threat. “We shall see, Crone,” he remarked in a tone laced with defiance. With a deliberate wave, he bid her farewell and crossed the threshold of the portal.

As his foot landed on the other side, a swift glance around revealed that he had materialized in the dimly lit cargo hold of a ship.

Pondering his next move, Sirius raised his scythe thoughtfully, his eyes alight with a glint of mischief. “Limbo,” he mused to himself, the word hanging in the air like a tantalizing secret. Yet, a sudden pause interrupted his train of thought as doubts crept in. “Why conceal it?” he questioned aloud, his voice tinged with uncertainty. “I am the harbinger of fear. They will all tremble at my very presence,” a soft chuckle escaped him, a trace of self-amusement coloring his words. “And where could that elusive girl be hiding now—”

“No.” A voice, laden with determination, cut through his musings. The real Sirius fought against the malevolent force that sought to control him. “I will not let you bring her harm.”

The sinister figure known as Father smirked, his grip tightening until his hand bore the golden stain of blood. “But you see, Sirius, your resistance is in vain. With you removed from the equation, along with the half-breed and the troublesome soul she carries around her neck, the scales tip in my favor,” he proclaimed, his eyes ablaze with malice.

“Who’s there?” A guard’s voice boomed through the tense silence as he pivoted to face the shadowy figure of Sirius. “Show yourself!” His demand echoed in the dimly lit surroundings. With deliberate slowness, Sirius locked eyes with the guard, who visibly trembled in fear. The guard’s grip tightened on his sword, his knuckles turning white with tension. “You’re the wanted criminal.”

“Criminal? No. Miscreant? Yes.” Sirius’s voice cut through the air like a blade as he lunged forward, his scythe gleaming in the faint light. The swift arc of the scythe descended, meeting its mark with a sickening thud. A crimson gash opened, and a gut-wrenching scream pierced the stillness as the guard staggered, blood spilling from the wound on his neck. Desperation etched across his face, he tried to stem the flow, but the pain overwhelmed him, and he crumpled to the ground.

“What was that?” Another guard’s alarmed voice shattered the eerie quietude of the darkened cargo hold.

Sirius moved deliberately, his footsteps echoing softly on the creaking floorboards as he ascended the stairs to the helm of the ship. Two guards, unaware of the impending threat, stood conversing by the wheel.

“Hello,” Sirius’s tone was taunting as he swiftly drove the blade of his scythe through the chest of the guard on the left. The guard’s eyes widened in shock before his body slumped lifelessly. In a fluid motion, Sirius withdrew the blade, his gaze locking with the remaining guard. The guard raised his sword, a glint of defiance in his eyes, as he lunged forward with a fierce battle cry. Sirius sidestepped the attack with ease, seizing the guard by the collar in a swift, practiced move.

“Nice try,” Sirius’s laughter rang out, filled with a chilling mirth. “But, just not good enough.” With a casual strength, he flung the lifeless body over the edge, the thud of impact reverberating through the hold. The sudden gasp of horror from Airella nearby punctuated the scene with an eerie intensity.

In that moment, everything had slowed down to a crawl, and the anticipation hung heavy in the air. Airella’s piercing gaze bore into him, making him turn sharply to meet her eyes, a mix of defiance and curiosity in his own.

“Hey there, half-breed. Let’s have a chat,” he stated coolly.

Airella’s voice faltered, “Sirius?” His demeanor was chillingly brutal, his words cutting through the tense silence like a sharp blade. Glowing yellow eyes locked onto her, seeing through every layer of her being.

“That’s not Sirius,” Jonathan murmured softly, a faint glow emanating from beneath Airella’s white top.

Sirius smirked, his grip tightening on a handful of Airella’s blonde locks as he brought her face to face with him. She gritted her teeth, a fierce struggle clear in her every move as she fought against his hold.

“Why don’t we find a quieter spot for a little chat?” he suggested, his voice carrying an unexpected softness that clashed with his actions. With a swift motion, he severed the chains binding her to the other prisoners, yet the cold metal cuffs remained fastened around her wrists as he led her, still gripping her hair, towards the nearest cabin.

By now, the sorcery that possessed Sirius had cast a spell of slumber upon the ship’s occupants, rendering them unconscious. Airella recognized this enchantment from her past encounters with Sirius and Father—the power to lull individuals into deep sleep, selectively choosing who remained awake.

Guiding her into the confines of the dimly lit cabin, Sirius swiftly secured the heavy oak door behind them, the faint creak echoing through the stillness. As he turned to face her, a subtle air of mystery seemed to shroud his every move, his eyes holding secrets untold.

“What have you done to Sirius?” Airella’s voice, laced with a mix of fear and determination, cut through the tense silence, her body weak but her spirit unyielding as she used the rough wooden wall for support.

“Oh, don’t fret, my dear Airella. Sirius lives. His existence is tethered to my whims,” he remarked with a chilling smile, the dim light glinting off his eyes. “After all, I am his creator.”

“Please, just let us be. Why are you subjecting us to this torment?” Her words held a plea laced with genuine concern for the unfolding situation.

“Humans, my dear, are but sustenance to us. A vital link in our dwindling food chain,” he explained, his tone matter-of-fact yet tinged with a hint of remorse. “Their absence has disrupted the delicate balance of our existence on this island, posing a challenge to our survival and prosperity,” he continued, his gaze unwavering as he observed her reaction.

“What are you not telling me?” Airella met his gaze with a mix of defiance and curiosity, her eyes searching for truths hidden beneath his cryptic words, a silent challenge in her unwavering stare.

He let out a chuckle, the sound echoing through the room. Airella found it hard to adjust to the fact that Father was inhabiting Sirius’s body.

“Smart girl. You see, the greater the number of beings we gather back on the island, the more power I will amass from their souls and auras. I will flourish once more. Yet this time, I plan not to exterminate every single one of the mortals. Last time, things spiraled a bit out of control,” he concluded, a self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he gazed in Airella’s direction.

“What do you mean?” Airella instinctively took a step back as he drew closer.

“Ah, that feeble Miscreant hunter village. They were so audacious. My power was adhered to by a barrier they erected. They transgressed against our kind. And there was this one girl...” He pressed Airella against the wall, deftly twisting a strand of her glistening golden hair around his finger.

“And then?” Airella’s voice trembled, but her curiosity was piqued and her anticipation grew. She could hear her heart pounding in her chest. The narrative felt eerily reminiscent, as if she had encountered this tale before.

“Emmaline.” His voice turned raspy and ominous as he breathed the name into Airella’s ear, sending shivers down her spine.

That name resonated deeply within her, for it was the same name as the girl she had glimpsed in her previous flashbacks while in Limbo. It was the identical name that Sirius had mentioned there, too. What set this girl apart, and why did Airella keep encountering her name?

“I take it you may have heard of her,” he said with a smirk, taking a step back from her. With a nonchalant air, he turned around and walked away. A sense of relief washed over her as she watched him, finally able to draw in a deep breath.

Confusion and curiosity intertwined within Airella as she clenched her fists, her mind filled with questions. “Who is she? Where is she? Why did I keep seeing visions of her in Limbo?” The desperation in her voice mirrored the intensity of her emotions.

Sirius, upon hearing her words, abruptly halted in his tracks. In a swift motion, he pivoted back towards her, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling certainty. “So, my suspicions were not unfounded. Even your blood carries the same essence as hers,” he declared with a chilling laugh, his gaze shifting to the metal cuffs that had dug into her skin, leaving marks of distress. “Emmaline, the legendary Miscreant hunter, the first to birth a true hybrid demon. Zol’s mate, a Slayer’s daughter, and just one of the many casualties under Sirius’s reign.”

As the pieces of the cryptic puzzle fell into place, Airella felt a surge of realization. The enigmatic connection between her and the mysterious Emmaline was slowly unraveling before her eyes. She absorbed Father’s words, each revelation adding a layer of complexity to her already tumultuous emotions.

“You bear an uncanny resemblance to that woman. Yet, in you, I sense a strength far greater than hers,” he mused, his voice tinged with a mix of admiration and malice. “Emmaline was but a pawn in the grand scheme of things, a mere mortal for my younger self to toy with. But you, you possess a potential beyond measure. A refined iteration of your esteemed predecessor,” he cackled maniacally, his words echoing in the space. Airella’s mind raced, grappling with the weight of his revelations. What did it all mean? What sinister purpose lay behind his cryptic revelations?

“I would like to offer you a proposition,” he said with a sly smile playing on his lips. His gaze lingered on Airella, assessing her from head to toe. “How would you like to access more power than you could ever overcome on your own? To be respected, to gain riches, and to even have enough power to reunite with those you’ve lost?”

“I want nothing from you,” Airella retorted, her voice laced with defiance as she bared her teeth.

“I can allow you to access your inner Miscreant. Rule by my side and become my next apprentice,” he continued persuasively. “In return, I will bring your dead friend back from the afterlife and return him to his original body. I will also set Sirius free, and he will never have to hear from me ever again.” Extending his hand towards her, he presented the tempting offer. “What do you say, child?”

Airella stood there, her eyes widening in astonishment. The promise of bringing Jonathan back from the dead and restoring him to his true self, of shielding Sirius from Father’s retribution—it all seemed too good to be true. Yet, as she contemplated the offer, a nagging thought crept into her mind. What about the fate of the people aboard the ships? Should she agree to this bargain, they would be nothing more than mere sustenance for the beasts roaming the isle.

However, if she were to say no, Father could end her life right there and then. The implications would be grave; Sirius and Jonathan, along with the rest of the humans en route to the island, would meet their untimely demise. Opting for his proposal might offer a chance for Sirius and Jonathan to intervene. Perhaps wielding the enigmatic power he hinted at could even lead to a reversal of fortunes against him.

Airella hesitated for a moment, weighing the options, before finally reaching out and clasping his hand, signifying her choice. He held on firmly, a sinister grin spreading across his face before erupting into maniacal laughter.

“Foolish girl.” His laughter subsided, replaced by a chilling gaze fixed on Airella. “There are a few crucial details I may have omitted...” The realization dawned on her as his expression turned malevolent, filling her with instant regret.

His grip on her hand tightened as he sent a wave of shock through her arm, a jolt that ripped through her body like a surge of electricity. The intensity was excruciating, wrenching an agonized scream from her lips that echoed through the small cabin of the ship. Airella’s eyes, veiled in tears of torment, blazed with such ferocity that she yearned to claw them out to escape the searing pain.

Crumbling to the ground, she instinctively grasped her scalp with a free hand, feeling a peculiar, scorching ache as twisted black horns sprouted from the sides of her head. The torment intensified as a sharp, piercing sensation coursed through her, heralding the emergence of two pointed ears. With two luminous blue eyes ablaze, hands quivering with an unearthly force, she beheld her metamorphosed form.

Sirius, his possessed expression twisted in a sinister smile, released Airella’s hand and forcefully ripped the blue pendant from her neck, shattering the chain that bound them.

“You have so much to learn,” he taunted, his voice dripping with malice. “Every Miscreant knows that once your physical form is extinguished, it is lost forever. Did Sirius teach you anything?” His words hung in the air as he crushed the glass pendant in his fist, the shards falling to the ground with a poignant clatter.

Airella, sprawled on the cold floor, watched the scene unfold with a mixture of despair and defiance, tears streaming down her pallid cheeks.

“Jonathan!” she screamed, her voice echoing through the empty cabin. “How could you?” The searing pain of the transformation continued to spread like wildfire, each pulse sending waves of agony throughout her body, making every movement an excruciating challenge.

As he strode towards the cabin’s exit, Sirius paused, his gaze locking onto her once more. With deliberate slowness, he lowered himself to her eye level, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. Airella raised her head to meet his gaze, a mixture of fear and defiance in her eyes.

“When I reshaped Sirius into who he is now, I lacked the strength to control his free will. But times have changed. Over the centuries, I’ve grown immensely in power. You, my dear, are now under my complete dominion. You’ve struck a bargain with the devil.” His lips curled into a menacing grin as he spoke.

“But… what about Sirius?” Airella struggled to push herself up onto her knees, her fingers bleeding as she grasped the shattered remnants of Jonathan’s pendant.

“Sirius will never leave my side. Not for anyone, or anything. And as for you,” His tone turned chillingly casual, “your internal transformation is far from complete. Brace yourself for unrelenting pain for the rest of this journey.” With a mocking laugh, he strode towards the door. “Now that both you and Sirius are no longer a concern, my power will ascend to unimaginable heights. Stronger than ever envisioned. I had planned to eliminate you both, but this outcome surpasses my wildest expectations.” His laughter rang through the cabin.

“You have a gift for verbosity,” Airella retorted sharply, her voice laced with bitterness as she remained on her knees, defiance burning in her eyes.

With a final contemptuous look, he turned on his heel and strode out of the cabin, each step echoing with an air of finality. As the heavy door slammed shut behind him, a strange, shimmering enchantment seemed to settle over it, sealing her in with an eerie aura of isolation.

Airella’s chest constricted with an unbearable pain, a sensation unlike anything she had ever felt before. It was as though icy tendrils were coiling around her lungs, each breath escaping from her lips in a visible puff of frost. The chill seeped into her bones, leaving her trembling uncontrollably as she fought against the cold that seemed to emanate from within her. Every shiver wracked her body, each one a stark reminder of her desperate situation.

As Airella lay on the creaking wooden floor of the cabin, she felt as though every ounce of vitality had been drained from her. She lay still, her gaze fixed on the ceiling above, her body limp and unresponsive. It was a surreal sensation, as if she were merely a shell of herself, devoid of any feeling or warmth. In that moment of profound stillness, all that remained were the haunting echoes of her thoughts, swirling in her mind with a haunting emptiness.

She glimpsed at the shattered mirror propped against the wall. Struggling to sit upright, she observed her reflection—her once rosy complexion now drained to a sickly pallor, icy blue eyes staring back, and her locks transformed into a striking platinum hue. Not to mention the recent additions—two ominous spiraling horns curving from her temples. She resembled a creature plucked from the darkest recesses of a nightmare.