The rain had come in the night, a slow, steady drizzle that left the village soaked and silent by morning. The air smelled of wet earth and woodsmoke. Mist clung to the rooftops like a second skin, and every sound—the creak of doors, the call of distant gulls was softened, as though the world itself was holding its breath.
Liora sat by the small hearth in Corren's cabin, wrapped in a blanket still damp from their journey. She hadn't slept much. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Maren's face shimmering through the Beast's monstrous shape—the flash of recognition, the plea for help. It wasn't just fear anymore. It was a weight. A promise she'd made without fully understanding it.
Corren moved around the room with practiced economy, laying out scrolls and leather-bound journals across the old table. The candlelight made their eyes gleam sharply, shadows flickering across their scarred face. They had said little since their return last night. Liora knew better than to push.
Finally, Corren exhaled slowly. "The wards are failing faster than I expected. What we saw in the marsh… that wasn't a random attack. It was testing us. Testing you."
Liora pulled the blanket tighter. "It knew me."
"Yes," Corren said simply. "You anchored her. That hasn't happened in generations."
The words made her chest tighten. "What does that mean?"
Corren opened a brittle scroll with delicate fingers. The runes inked on the parchment glowed faintly, as if remembering old power. "It means you're part of this now, whether you like it or not. Once the Beast recognizes someone as a Seer—someone who can see the human beneath—it forms a bond. Not full, not yet. But enough that your path is tied to hers."
Liora swallowed. "Can it be broken?"
"Perhaps," Corren murmured, scanning the runes. "But to do that, we must understand the original curse. The First Binding. The night Maren was transformed."
They beckoned Liora closer. She rose and joined them at the table. On the parchment was a map of the marsh, though much older than any she had seen. The village was smaller, the marsh wider, dotted with strange symbols she didn't recognize.
"These," Corren said, pointing to a ring of runes near the center of the map, "are the Circle of Thorns. The first wards. It was here that the villagers bound Maren's soul to the Beast."
Liora frowned. "Why would they do that? Was she… dangerous?"
Corren's gaze softened, though their voice remained steady. "Maren was no monster. She was a healer. Like you. But she loved the wrong man—a lord's son, promised to another. And when betrayal came, so did vengeance. Not from her, but from those who feared the shame of their own deeds. They accused her of witchcraft, claimed she had summoned the Beast to curse the village. The irony," they added bitterly, "is that they did the summoning themselves. They bound her to the very creature they feared."
Liora stared at the glowing runes. "They punished her for their own sin."
"As humans often do," Corren said. "The Circle of Thorns sealed the transformation. Her body became the Beast. Her soul… trapped. Half-human, half-monster. Neither free nor dead."
A shiver ran through her. "And that's where we have to go."
Corren nodded slowly. "Yes. But it's dangerous. The Circle is deep in the marsh. The wards around it are old, unstable. The Beast returns there to regain strength. If we're to find a way to break the curse, we must reach it before the next moonrise."
Liora hesitated. "What happens at moonrise?"
Corren's eyes met hers, steady and grim. "The bond between you and Maren will deepen. If left unchecked, it will begin to shape you, too."
Liora's heart skipped. "Shape me?"
"The curse doesn't just trap one soul," Corren said. "It searches. It tests. If you are not strong enough to keep your sense of self, it will remake you. Piece by piece."
For a long moment, only the rain filled the silence.
Then Liora stood. "Then we have to go now."
Corren studied her, perhaps searching for hesitation. Finding none, they gave a curt nod. "Pack light. We move at dusk. The Circle is best approached when the marsh sleeps."
Dusk bled slowly across the sky, staining the clouds a bruised violet. The mist grew thick again, curling along the ground like something alive. Liora followed Corren into the marsh, the runestone charm warm against her palm. Her breath came out in quick clouds. Every rustle in the reeds made her pulse quicken.
They moved in silence for what felt like hours. The landscape shifted subtly as they went—trees twisted at odd angles, the water grew darker, the air heavier. Liora could feel it pressing against her skin, like a warning.
"Stay on the stones," Corren whispered. "Here the marsh remembers."
They reached a small clearing at the heart of the swamp. There, half-submerged in black water, was the Circle of Thorns.
It was not made of thorns as she expected, but of stone pillars wrapped in ancient, dead vines. The air hummed faintly, charged with a power that was both alluring and repellent. Each pillar bore a rune carved so deeply it seemed to bleed darkness. At the center, a stone slab jutted from the water—an altar, worn smooth by centuries.
Liora's throat tightened. She could feel Maren here. Not just the Beast's presence, but Maren's sorrow, etched into the very air. It was overwhelming.
Corren knelt by one of the pillars, tracing the runes with their staff. "The binding sigils are fractured. Someone's tampered with them over the years, but the core is intact. If we can decipher this pattern, we might learn the key to undoing the curse."
Liora stepped toward the altar. Her fingers brushed its surface. The moment she touched it, the air shuddered. A vision slammed into her mind—
A crowd, torches blazing. A young woman bound to the slab, her dark hair plastered to her face by rain. Voices screaming accusations. A man standing apart, eyes filled with guilt but saying nothing. Chanting. The smell of blood and smoke.
Then—darkness.
She stumbled back, gasping. Corren caught her arm.
"What happened?"
"I saw it," she whispered. "The night it happened. The betrayal. She was here. They bound her on that stone."
Corren's eyes narrowed. "The bond is growing stronger. She's showing you what she wants you to see."
Before Liora could respond, the mist shifted violently. A low, guttural growl rolled across the clearing. Corren rose in a fluid motion, staff raised.
The Beast emerged from the fog like a nightmare come to life. Its form was massive, shifting between woman and creature with every breath. Its eyes locked onto Liora—pleading, furious, desperate.
"Stand your ground," Corren hissed. "Remember who you are."
Liora's heart pounded, but she held the Beast's gaze. "Maren," she whispered. "I see you."
The Beast faltered for a fraction of a second, its monstrous head tilting. That was all Corren needed. They struck the ground with their staff. Runes flared around the Circle, lighting the marsh in ghostly blue light.
The Beast roared, thrashing against the sudden barrier. Water splashed high, vines snapped, stones cracked under its weight.
"Liora!" Corren shouted over the din. "The altar! Touch the rune at its center—now!"
She didn't think, she just moved. She waded through cold water to the altar, climbed onto its slick surface, and pressed her palm to the faint glowing mark in the center.
The world exploded into light.
Voices echoed in her mind—not just Maren's, but dozens, maybe hundreds. The villagers, the ancestors, the Beast itself. For a moment she wasn't Liora at all. She was standing in the past, feeling the ropes bite into her wrists, the rain on her face, the betrayal in the man's eyes.
Then she heard Maren clearly: "Free me… or join me."
Liora gasped, pulling her hand back. The runes dimmed, but something shifted deep within the Circle. The air felt different—less restrained, more awake.
Corren's staff flickered. "You've stirred the old magic," they said grimly. "The Circle is listening again."
The Beast's roar echoed one last time before it vanished back into the fog, leaving silence in its wake.
Liora stood trembling on the altar, soaked and shaking. Corren met her gaze. "This is just the beginning. She's opening the path for you."
Liora stared at the empty fog where the Beast had been. For the first time, she wasn't just afraid. She was determined.