Flashback
Adrian stood on the edge of the glowing portal, its relentless pull tugging at his body and threatening to consume him. Around him, the battle faded into a distant blur, the roar of the portal drowning out the chaos. His crimson eyes flicked to Lyra one last time, the unspoken weight of everything they’d endured reflected in her gaze. And then, like a cruel twist of fate, a memory clawed its way to the surface—a memory he’d buried deep but could never truly forget.
It had been a cold night, the kind that seemed to seep into bones and settle there. The baby’s soft cries had pierced the stillness of the forest as Adrian carried her close, his cloak wrapped tightly around her small frame. He’d planned the journey carefully, knowing that the pack he intended to leave her with was one of the few that valued peace. A safe haven, far from the horrors that had consumed his world.
Adrian’s steps had been deliberate, his breaths measured, but his heart raced with every passing second. When he reached the clearing, he set the basket on the ground, lining it with soft cloth to keep her warm. His hands trembled as he placed Misery’s necklace alongside the child, the delicate charm catching the faint glow of moonlight filtering through the trees. It was the only piece of her mother’s legacy he could leave behind—a token of who she was and the love that had been sacrificed for her safety.
His voice was barely a whisper, trembling with raw emotion. “Be safe,” he murmured. “Please, be safe.”
Adrian didn’t move immediately. He stood in the shadows, his crimson eyes fixed on the child as her cries softened, replaced by faint coos. Every fiber of his being screamed at him to pick her up, to carry her away from this lonely place, but he forced himself to stay hidden. She would be better off without him.
Then, as if summoned by fate, an elderly woman appeared. Her steps were slow and careful, her sharp eyes scanning the clearing until they landed on the basket. A soft gasp escaped her lips as she approached, her hands trembling as she reached for the child. “Oh, little one,” she murmured, lifting the baby gently into her arms. “Who left you here?”
Adrian watched from the shadows, his muscles tense, his breath caught in his throat. The woman’s voice was soothing, her touch careful as she cradled the baby close. “You’re safe now,” she whispered, her voice filled with quiet reassurance. She began walking toward the faint outline of her cottage in the distance, her figure illuminated by the soft glow of the moonlight.
Adrian followed at a distance, his footsteps silent, his gaze never leaving the bundle in her arms. The sight of the cottage—a small, humble home nestled deep within the forest—gave him a sliver of peace. But the moment the door closed behind the woman, the weight of his decision crashed down on him like a tidal wave. He stood there for what felt like an eternity, staring at the faint light flickering from the window.
Now, as the portal’s pull grew stronger, that memory burned brighter, sharper, cutting through him like a blade. His grip on the fake baby tightened, his mind consumed by the thought of the child he had left behind. The child who wasn’t in his arms now. The child he had failed to save.
“I’m sorry,” Adrian whispered, his voice trembling. His gaze flickered back to Lyra, the pain in his eyes raw and unguarded. “I failed her. And now, I’ll fail you too.”
The portal’s force became overwhelming, dragging Adrian and the bundle closer to its glowing core. The baby’s cries mingled with the echoes of the past, and Adrian’s figure vanished into the swirling light, swallowed by the portal’s unrelenting hunger.