The Rift Within

Therrin's POV

Darkness. That's all I knew. Not the quiet kind—the soothing lull of twilight or a dreamless sleep. No. This was suffocating. Choking. Writhing with whispers I didn't recognize as my own.

My body trembled, paralyzed in some faraway place, but my mind—my soul—was in freefall.

Ari… what have you done? I tried to call out, but no sound came. Not even in here.

The mental space that used to be mine—safe, if cluttered—was now an endless void. Cracked mirrors floated in the air, suspended and slowly turning like shards of broken stars. They showed flashes of Ari's stolen moments. Her voice. Her touch. Her pleasure. My skin burned from phantom memories I didn't consent to.

"This is mine now," her voice echoed, sharp and wicked. She stepped out from the darkness in a copy of my body—but altered. Taller. Sharper. Feral. Her eyes gleamed silver like moonlit steel. "You gave me the chance, sister. You gave me breath."

I took a step back, or tried to. The ground rippled like water and sent me tumbling into a pit of shifting thorns. They didn't draw blood, but they tore at my thoughts. My fears.

Ari stalked the rim of the pit, circling me like a predator. "You don't want power? Fine. Then I'll use it. I'll take him. Dion is mine. Ours. But you'd rather be weak—helpless. You can stay here and rot."

"No!" I screamed, but the thorns tightened around me, binding me in a mental cocoon of agony. My real body convulsed somewhere far away—I could feel it. Like trying to scream underwater. Trapped. Drowning.

"Fight her!" a voice echoed like thunder across the void.

Grimm.

A slash of silver light cut across the darkness, and from it emerged my familiar—his eyes burning blue like wildfire. He padded into the pit as if the nightmare couldn't touch him. His tail flicked once before he leapt atop my tangled, thrashing form.

He pressed his forehead to mine.

"You are not her prisoner," he growled. "You are both Shadowborn, but this soul belongs to you."

"I can't… she's stronger here," I whispered.

"No," Grimm said, his voice low and absolute. "She's only louder."

The landscape shifted. The thorns burned away into ash as Grimm purred into my mind, anchoring me. Ari shrieked as the shadows behind her pulsed and snapped. Her form glitched—cracked—like a reflection distorted by a broken mirror.

"Therrin. Remember who you are. You are Nocturnae. Born of two spirits, yes—but you are the one who chooses."

The power in me trembled—raw and coiled—but I reached for it. Ari lunged at me, claws outstretched, but this time I didn't back away. I stood, met her charge, and pushed back with every ounce of will I had left.

Light exploded through the void. She screamed—no, I screamed too—but I didn't let go.

And when the light faded, I stood alone. Breathing hard. Knees shaking.

But free.

Grimm brushed against my leg, his fur humming with warmth. "Well done, Therrin. She's not gone. But for now… you are in control."