GARRUK’S BATTLE — THE SERETH THAT ISN’T
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Garruk burst through a wall of hanging vines — muscles coiled, tusks bared, eyes wide with terror for his family.
And there she was.
Sereth.
Standing in a shaft of pale forest light, gown torn, hair wild, bow in hand.
She turned to him slowly, breath unsteady.
“Garruk…”
Her voice trembled.
Exactly like her.
For a heartbeat, the barbarian almost cried with relief.
Garruk:
“Sereth! BY THE GODS — stay close! Elyra’s ahead—”
But something was wrong.
The way she held her bow.
The way her pupils didn’t dilate.
The way her shadow didn’t match her shape.
Then she smiled.
Too wide.
Too perfect.
Too smooth.
Mirrorborn Sereth (mock-gentle):
“Garruk.
You look exhausted.
Come here… rest.”
She stepped forward, reaching out.
Garruk froze.
Then his warrior instincts screamed.
Garruk:
“NO.”
The creature twitched — its smile cracking like porcelain.
And then it attacked.
A silver blade of glass slid from its forearm, slashing toward Garruk’s throat with inhuman speed.
Garruk caught the strike with his bare hand, roared, and ripped the limb clean off.
But the creature didn’t scream.
It only tilted its head.
And grew a new one.
Garruk:
“…Okay.
That’s unsettling.”
The forest trembled as Garruk entered a full Berserker rage —
a thunderous bellow shaking branches loose.
He swung his greataxe in a brutal arc—
THWACK!
SPLINTER!
CRACK!
The mirrorborn shattered — reforming behind him instantly, hurling itself at his back.
Garruk rolled, slammed it into a tree, and pinned it by the throat.
Garruk:
“You’re not her.
YOU’RE NOT HER.”
His rage surged.
His tattoos glowed.
With a roar that split the illusion itself, Garruk crushed its throat with his bare hands — the creature bursting into a rain of silver dust.
But the dust didn’t fall.
It drifted upward, swirling, reforming into new shapes.
And dozens of Sereths stared down at him from the canopy above.
Garruk:
“…I bloody hate forests.”
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SERETH & ELYRA — THE REAL REUNION
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Sereth spun around another trunk, panting, bow raised—
“MUM!”
Elyra slammed into her, arms tight around her waist, breath trembling.
Sereth gasped — then cradled her daughter’s face.
Sereth:
“Elyra! Oh thank the gods—are you hurt?”
Elyra shook her head, but her eyes glistened.
Elyra:
“No — but Borin—he’s ahead—Mum, he thinks I’m—”
A soft voice drifted from the fog.
Varsha:
“Well isn’t this sweet.”
They spun.
Varsha stepped out between the trees —
crimson orchids in her hair, blades gleaming, smile poisonous.
Varsha:
“And here I thought the ranger would learn not to run toward traps.
You’re predictable, Sereth.
Always were.”
Sereth’s jaw tightened.
Elyra stepped in front of her, bow raised.
Varsha sighed dramatically.
Varsha:
“Oh, please.
Do you really think you can protect her?
Your legs go limp the moment that bauble tips sideways.”
Elyra flinched — a small, involuntary stagger.
Varsha’s eyes glimmered with cruel delight.
Varsha:
“See?
You’re still broken.
Still weak.
Still—”
She lifted a hand, fingers curling like a puppeteer tugging strings.
Sereth suddenly felt pressure —
cold vines of magic around her mind, tugging, pulling, demanding obedience.
She knew this feeling.
Varsha’s manipulation.
The same force that once made her the Scarlet Huntress.
Her breath hitched — panic rising—
But then—
Warmth.
A pulse.
Soft.
Deep.
From her stomach.
It spread outward — a golden echo — dissolving Varsha’s influence like mist in sunlight.
Sereth gasped, hand flying to her belly.
Varsha froze.
Varsha:
“…that’s impossible.”
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Sereth’s eyes burned with fierce clarity.
Sereth:
“You can’t control me anymore.”
Varsha took a single step back.
Not out of fear — but out of realization.
Varsha:
“The child…
The unborn protects the mother.
A lattice echo.”
She smiled thinly.
“How… inconvenient.”
Elyra raised her bow.
Elyra:
“Stay away from her.”
Varsha’s eyes flicked to the left—
calculating—
and she backed into the fog with a low, silken whisper.
Varsha:
“Enjoy this little moment.
It won’t last.”
And she vanished.
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BORIN — FACE TO FACE WITH SILVENNA
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Borin stumbled into a clearing — breath ragged, eyes wild.
And the screaming Elyra he’d been chasing dissolved into glass dust.
Standing in its place—
Silvenna.
Cold.
Glittering.
Beautiful in a way that only something inhuman could be.
Her silver eyes reflected nothing.
Silvenna:
“You ran far, little dwarf.”
Borin raised his hammer — but his grip shook.
His eyes were still glazed, pupils dilated — caught between illusion and reality.
Silvenna stepped closer, almost pitying him.
Silvenna:
“Do you know what I love about dwarves?
That stubborn loyalty.
That willingness to die for those you cherish.”
She leaned in, voice like a blade sliding through ice.
Silvenna:
“Savor it, Borin Stonebeard.
This happy little life you cling to…”
Her lips curled.
“…it will be brief.”
Borin snarled, shaking his head violently, trying to clear the illusion.
Silvenna:
“No.
Don’t struggle.
Not yet.”
She traced a finger under his chin.
Silvenna:
“Enjoy life while you can draw breath.”
And with that, she faded into particles of silver —
leaving Borin alone in the dark clearing…
…until a real voice broke through.
Sereth (far away):
“BORIN!!”
His breath hitched.
Reality snapped.
Borin:
“S-Sereth?!”
And the dwarf ran toward the sound of his true family.
THE FOREST SPLITS — AND THE TRAP SPRINGS
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Sereth burst through a curtain of pale branches, Elyra right beside her, breath sharp, adrenaline surging.
Up ahead—
“BORIN!!”
Borin turned at the sound — eyes clear now, illusions broken, beard tangled, expression wild with confusion and dawning horror.
Borin:
“SERETH? ELYRA?! BY THE GODS—WHERE ARE YE?!”
He was close.
Too close.
And the forest knew.
The trees shivered.
Branches twisted.
The ground trembled as if something beneath it was breathing.
And from Sereth’s right side—
A thunderous crack exploded through the air.
Garruk burst through the treeline like a living avalanche, covered in glass dust, panting, snarling, one eye twitching with lingering rage.
Garruk:
“SERETH— ELYRA—DON’T MOVE!”
But the forest moved for them.
Varsha stepped from the shadows behind him, two fingers rising lazily.
Varsha:
“Not so fast.”
With a sinuous wave of her hand, the trees closed like jaws, vines weaving together, paths slamming shut with the force of falling portcullises.
Garruk slammed into a sudden wall of roots.
Sereth spun, bow raised.
Elyra whipped her head around—
Every path was closing.
Except one.
A narrow slit — barely wide enough for a single person to squeeze through.
Elyra saw Borin on the other side of it.
He saw her.
They reached for each other.
Sereth:
“ELYRA—WAIT!”
But it was too late.
Elyra slipped through just as the trees sealed behind her, locking Sereth and Garruk out.
“ELYRA!”
Sereth slammed both hands against the bark.
“NO—NO—LET ME THROUGH—”
Garruk’s axe bit into the vines with a roar.
BOOM—
CRACK—
SPLINTER—
But the forest was enchanted.
The wood healed instantly.
On the other side of the wall—
━━ Elyra stood alone.
━━ Borin stood behind her.
And ahead of her—
Silver mist gathered between the trees.
A silhouette emerged.
Graceful.
Cold.
Smiling.
Silvenna.
Her eyes reflected Elyra like a distorted mirror.
Silvenna:
“Ahh…”
She lifted a fingertip to her lips.
“…little hawk.”
Elyra’s breath caught.
Sereth could still see her — barely — through a tiny gap between twisting branches.
“ELYRA!”
Sereth’s voice cracked.
“STAY BACK—DON’T LISTEN TO HER—”
Silvenna didn’t even look at Sereth.
Her entire presence locked onto Elyra with predatory delight.
Silvenna:
“You’ve been very busy, little one.
Dancing.
Laughing.
Falling in love.”
Elyra’s jaw tightened.
Elyra:
“…Step away from me.”
Borin stepped forward, hammer raised.
Borin:
“GET BEHIND ME, LASS— I GOT YE—”
Silvenna tilted her head, amused.
Silvenna:
“Cute.”
And then her eyes flicked to the gap where Sereth watched helplessly.
Silvenna:
“Did you hear her scream in my halls, Sereth?
Do you remember her legs giving out?
Her tears?
Her terror?”
Sereth struck the trees again, voice breaking.
Sereth:
“DON’T TOUCH HER—DON’T YOU DARE—”
Silvenna smiled wider.
Silvenna:
“I don’t need to.”
She lifted her hand slowly—
—and Elyra’s knees buckled.
Gasps rang out from both sides of the trees.
Elyra caught herself on sheer instinct, one hand slamming to the dirt.
Her circlet glowed fiercely — holding the curse at bay — but the strain made her teeth grit.
Small, silver veins flickered at the edge of her calf.
Silvenna:
“That little trinket saved you once.
But it was never meant to last.”
Borin roared and charged her.
Silvenna didn’t move.
Borin swung—
—but his hammer passed straight through her, striking nothing but mist.
Silvenna (behind him now):
“You should have stayed drunk, dwarf.”
Garruk from the other side slammed the vines again.
Garruk:
“ELYRA—STAY WITH ME—WE’RE COMING!”
Sereth pressed her forehead to the bark, voice trembling between rage and terror.
Sereth:
“ELYRA—FIGHT HER—PLEASE, FIGHT—”
Elyra lifted her chin.
Her legs trembled.
Her balance faltered.
But she stood.
Barely.
Elyra:
“…I’m not afraid of you.”
Silvenna’s smile sharpened.
Silvenna:
“You should be, little hawk.”
She stepped closer.
Silver glitter rose like dust around her.
Silvenna:
“This time…
you won’t be walking away.”
THE FOREST’S THROAT CLOSES — AND THE HAWK IS CORNERED
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Elyra’s calves spasmed — that ghastly crystalline numbness shooting up them like frost in a window pane — but still she stepped toward Borin.
Her legs dragged.
Her balance wavered.
But she moved.
Borin staggered backward, clutching the long gash across his arm. Glass dust shimmered in the wound like glittering poison.
Borin (through clenched teeth):
“Stay back—Elyra—STAY BACK—”
But she didn’t.
She couldn’t.
She saw him hurt, and her body — useless as it felt — tried to respond.
Silvenna watched her stumble with delighted cruelty.
Silvenna:
“Oh little hawk…
look at you.
Trying so hard to save someone you cannot reach.”
Elyra’s breath trembled.
Her legs went numb from the knees down.
She nearly fell forward—
—but caught herself, barely, bracing on the rough bark of a twisted elm.
Then—
A sound tore through the forest like thunder.
BOOM—CRACK—SHATTER.
Elaris burst into view with Kaer, Vex, and Laz at his heels — all breathless, weapons drawn, covered in powdered glass and dirt.
Elaris’s voice cracked raw with panic:
“ELYRA!”
His green magic surged violently around his hands at the sight of her buckling legs.
But before he could take one step forward—
Varsha stepped into view.
She lifted both hands.
Roots, vines, and branches tore themselves up from the forest floor, weaving into a near-living wall of bark and thorns between the group.
Kaer collided with it first, sword rebounding like he’d struck stone.
Kaer:
“NO—MOVE! MOVE, DAMN YOU!”
He hacked again.
And again.
Each swing did nothing.
Behind them — rustling.
Low rattles.
A sound like bones scraping against ice.
Mirrorborn.
Dozens.
Forming from the shards littering the ground, crawling across roots, reflective bodies flickering with fractured faces.
Vex:
“Oh good. Perfect. GREAT. AN AUDIENCE.”
Laz:
“This is the WORST forest I’ve ever been in.”
Elaris didn’t look at them.
His entire world had shrunk to a single point beyond that wall:
His daughter.
Pinned.
Stumbling.
Trapped with Silvenna.
His voice cracked.
Elaris:
“ELYRA—HOLD ON—WE’RE COMING—JUST HOLD ON!”
Silvenna turned, grinning, bow held loosely at her side like a predator playing with its prey.
Silvenna:
“Such devotion…
Such desperation…”
She lifted her foot and dragged it slowly across the earth — a mockery of Elyra’s weakened steps.
Silvenna:
“Is this what the Pale Shepherd taught you, little hawk?
To die beautifully?”
Elyra’s eyes hardened.
Her fingers brushed the fletching of her arrows, grip trembling.
She raised her bow.
Aim unsteady.
But her eyes — her eyes were fire.
She loosed two arrows in a blink — perfect shots, even while barely standing.
For a heartbeat, Silvenna looked surprised.
Then she split.
Her body fractured like a mirror struck by frost — shards peeling away like petals — the arrows streaking harmlessly through the dividing glass.
She reformed behind the falling splinters.
Silvenna:
“Tut, tut…”
Her smile sharpened.
Silvenna:
“That might have cost you.”
Elyra’s breath hitched—
And her knees buckled completely.
Her circlet flickered.
Her legs went fully DEAD beneath her.
She collapsed onto the forest floor.
Elaris screamed.
Sereth screamed on the other side.
Borin stumbled toward her, but Silvenna blocked him with a single outstretched hand.
Silvenna:
“She can’t save anyone.
Not even herself.
Isn’t that right, Elyra?”
Elyra’s fingers clawed at the dirt, dragging herself upright inch by inch.
Elyra (voice cracking, furious):
“Don’t—
speak—
to me.”
Silvenna crouched low in front of her.
Close.
Too close.
Her cold fingers lifted a strand of Elyra’s hair.
Silvenna:
“Still fighting.
Still pretending those little legs of yours aren’t mine to claim.”
Elyra’s eyes burned.
The forest shook with the combined fury of Elaris, Sereth, and Garruk slamming against the barriers.
Elaris’s magic flared sickly green, burning through the vines but not fast enough.
Kaer’s voice tore through the clearing.
Kaer:
“ELYRA—DON’T GIVE UP! DON’T YOU DARE—”
Silvenna’s smile widened.
Silvenna:
“Oh don’t worry, Kaer.
She won’t have a choice.”
She leaned closer.
Her breath cold against Elyra’s ear.
Silvenna:
“You will walk again only when I allow it.
And right now…?”
She reached toward Elyra’s circlet.
Fingers closing.
Silvenna:
“I think the little hawk needs a nap.”
