Chapter 312
The moonlight filtered through the dense canopy of the forest, casting long shadows on the ground as Dain stood alone, his back to the others. They had set up camp for the night, but Dain couldn’t shake the feeling that something was calling to him. Something deep within the very earth beneath his feet, a pull that grew stronger with each passing moment. The Moon Shard, the same shard Elyra had been struggling to control, hummed quietly in the distance, its energy thrumming in the air like a distant storm on the horizon.
He couldn’t ignore it. The whispers had started subtly at first, faint murmurs that only he could hear. At night, when the world was still, the voices grew louder, more insistent. Promises of power. Promises of control.
“Dain…” the voice whispered again, echoing through his mind. “You are more than this. You are stronger than they believe. You can control your destiny. The shard can give you the power you need. The power to never be weak again.”
His heart raced as the words lingered in his mind, spinning through his thoughts like a spider weaving a web. It felt right—so right. He could feel the power. It was as if it had always been there, buried deep within him, waiting for the right moment to awaken.
“Why should you let them hold you back?” the voice continued, smooth and seductive. “They don’t understand you, Dain. They’re afraid of you. They want to control you. But the shard can give you freedom. It can give you everything you’ve ever wanted.”
Dain clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to push the whispers out of his mind. The darkness was tempting—so tempting. And yet, every time he tried to reject it, it pulled him back, its promises filling him with a dangerous fire.
He turned his gaze toward the others—Elyra, Cassian, and Aurora—sitting by the fire, unaware of the battle raging inside him. They were still too focused on their journey, on the temple ahead, on everything that wasn’t him. They were afraid of the darkness inside him, afraid of what it could become.
But Dain wasn’t afraid. Not anymore.
He stepped quietly away from the camp, careful not to disturb the others. His heart beat in his chest, louder with each step he took toward the clearing where the shard lay, untouched and waiting. It called to him, its power surging through the very air, wrapping around him like an invisible thread that pulled him closer.
As he neared the shard, his pulse quickened, his breath shallow. He could feel it now, the energy of the shard vibrating through him, calling to him, urging him to take the next step. He knew what he had to do. The ritual. He had heard of it in whispers—fragments of forgotten knowledge, forbidden power that could unlock the shard’s true potential.
The wind whispered around him, and Dain’s eyes narrowed. There was no turning back now.
He knelt before the shard, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch it. The moment his fingers brushed against its surface, a jolt of energy shot through him, a spark that ignited the darkness inside him. The whispers were louder now, no longer just in his mind, but in the very air around him, urging him to perform the ritual. To accept the power that had always been his.
Dain’s breath hitched as he began to chant the incantation, the words ancient and strange, flowing from his lips as if they had always been there. The energy of the shard swirled around him, spiraling through the air in a brilliant, chaotic dance of light and shadow. It was as though time itself had slowed, the world fading into a blur as he focused all of his energy on the ritual.
His hands trembled as he raised them above the shard, the power coursing through him with an intensity that left him breathless. The ground beneath him seemed to hum, vibrating with energy. His heartbeat pounded in his ears, drowning out everything else.
“You are mine,” the voice whispered again, so close now that Dain felt it in his very bones. “Embrace your destiny. Take the power that is rightfully yours.”
Dain closed his eyes, feeling the pull of the darkness wrap around him like a cocoon. It was warm, suffocating, and yet, there was a sense of release—of freedom—that he hadn’t known before. He was no longer bound by the chains of fear or doubt. The power was his to command.
With a final, decisive motion, Dain placed his palm directly above the shard, his skin now radiating with an intense, inky black glow. The energy surged in response, crackling through the air like lightning, the power threatening to consume him whole. But Dain didn’t fight it. He embraced it.
His palm began to glow darker, a deep, unnatural black that seemed to draw in the light around him. It was as though the very essence of the shard had fused with him, filling him with an overwhelming strength that sent waves of exhilaration coursing through his veins.
The whispers were deafening now, filling his mind, his body, his soul. They no longer felt like distant voices. They felt like a part of him—his new reality. The power was his. He had taken it, and there was no going back. He was no longer the man who had once struggled with his inner darkness. He was something more.
He opened his eyes, his gaze now sharp and cold, as though he had been reborn. The black glow from his palm flickered and pulsed, the power now a part of him, a force he could wield at will.
But as the energy began to settle, a flicker of doubt crept into Dain’s heart. Was this the right choice? Was he truly in control, or had he just made a pact with something far darker than he had realized?
He quickly pushed the thought aside. There was no time for hesitation. The power was his, and with it, he would control his own destiny.
But as he stood there, his palm still glowing with an eerie black light, a sudden chill ran down his spine. The whispers faded, replaced by a single, chilling thought: What had he just done?
-: Dain secretly performs a ritual, and his palm glows black.
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