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CHAPTER 23: The altar of echoes
Last Updated:
2025-12-10 06:23:02
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Christmas in ashes CHAPTER 41: The witness who stepped through
The air folds.That’s the only way I can describe it ... not tearing, not splitting, but bending inward like the world is briefly ashamed of its own shape.The man on the porch steps back exactly one pace, just as promised. He doesn’t cross the threshold. He doesn’t even look relieved.Behind him, the ripple deepens.Snow freezes mid-fall.Not suspended ... held.My lungs burn as if I’ve forgotten how to breathe correctly. The silver behind my ribs tightens, not in pain, but in alignment, like something locking into place because it knows what comes next.Lucien grips my arm. “Elora,” he murmurs. “If this goes wrong—”“It already has,” I whisper. “We’re just choosing the flavor now.”The ripple opens wider.Something steps forward.Not tall.Not monstrous.Not even particularly impressive at first glance.It’s a woman.She looks about my age, maybe older, maybe younger — it’s hard to tell, because her face keeps slipping between expressions I almost recognize. Brown hair, plain coat,
Christmas in ashes CHAPTER 40: The cost of asking
Morning comes too quietly.No screams. No cracks in the sky. No eldritch knocking on the edges of reality. Just snow drifting past my bedroom window like it has nothing better to do than pretend this town isn’t one bad decision away from being swallowed whole.That’s what unsettles me.Hallowpine thrives on warning signs. Silence here is never empty , it’s loaded.I wake before the others, the weight behind my ribs still there, settled like a second spine. The silver doesn’t stir unless I focus on it. It waits. Patient. Listening.Consent, it reminds me without words.Downstairs, the house breathes softly. Ruby’s door is closed, which means she’s either asleep or pretending not to be awake. Gideon’s presence hums faintly in the den — prayer, probably, or damage control masquerading as faith.I pause halfway down the stairs.The wards shift.Not flaring.Not challenging.They check in.My throat tightens.“I don’t like that,” I whisper to no one.The wards do nothing in response.Good.I
Christmas in ashes CHAPTER 39: What answers a refusal
The veil doesn’t tear.That’s what I’m braced for as we leave the square,another rip, another scream, another reminder that refusing power doesn’t make danger polite.But nothing breaks.Instead, the world… waits.Hallowpine settles into a strange, brittle quiet as we walk home. Christmas lights blink on storefronts that suddenly feel like stage props, too bright for what’s underneath. I feel eyes behind curtains, breath held behind locked doors. Not hatred. Not faith.Assessment.The silver beneath my skin doesn’t surge anymore. It doesn’t spill out or pulse visibly. It hums low and steady, like something that finally found its place and decided to stay there.Lucien notices before I do.“You’re contained,” he says quietly, walking beside me. “The glow,it’s not leaking.”I glance down at my hands. They look normal. No light. No heat.“I didn’t suppress it,” I murmured. “It just… stopped trying to escape.”Ruby snorts softly. “That’s reassuring in a deeply unsettling way.”Gideon slow
Christmas in ashes CHAPTER 38: The shape of a mob
Hallowpine doesn’t sleep that night.It pretends to.Lights turn off behind curtains. Doors lock softly. But the air stays awake—tight, listening, waiting for someone else to make the first mistake.I sit on the edge of my bed, fully dressed, boots on. I haven’t taken them off since the bakery. Since the basement. Since the crowd outside my house decided I was a problem they could politely discuss.Lucien stands by the window, watching the street like it might blink first.Ruby paces. Gideon murmurs wards under his breath. Milo sits cross-legged on the floor, quietly folding paper stars and lining them up in a careful row.None of us are relaxed.“They’re organizing,” Milo says suddenly.Ruby stops pacing. “How do you know?”“They stopped whispering,” he replies without looking up. “Fear’s louder when it agrees with itself.”Lucien exhales slowly. “He’s right. Shadows are clustering.”That sends a chill through me. “Where?”“Everywhere,” Lucien says. “But mostly the square.”I stand.
Christmas in ashes CHAPTER 37: The first knife is always human
The basement smells like damp cardboard and old paint.No monsters.No tears in the veil.Just a raccoon that knocked over a shelf and scared two teenagers half to death.I almost laughed.Almost.Because when we step back outside, the street feels wrong again—too quiet, too watchful. Like Winterthorne learned something new about me and is deciding what to do with it.Lucien walks close, silent. Ruby stayed behind with Milo. Gideon went to reinforce wards near the square.I should feel relieved.Instead, my skin prickles.“You feel it too?” I ask softly.Lucien nods. “Eyes.”We turn the corner.A small crowd waits near my house.Not panicked.Organized.My stomach drops.They’re holding lanterns. Phones. Not weapons—yet. They stand in a loose semicircle, murmuring among themselves. When they see me, the murmurs stop.Someone steps forward.Mrs. Halbrook.My chest tightens. “What’s going on?”She folds her hands. “We just want to talk.”Lucien shifts subtly. “Now isn’t—”“This concerns E
Christmas in ashes CHAPTER 36: What belief costs
Applause is louder than screaming.I would’ve preferred the screaming.Because applause means they’re deciding what I am.The clapping fades slowly, awkwardly, like people realize too late they don’t know the rules for this moment. Someone laughs nervously. Someone else whispers a prayer. Phones come out. A child points at me and asks if I’m magic.I feel suddenly, painfully exposed.Lucien keeps one arm around my shoulders—not shielding me, just anchoring me. “Breathe,” he murmurs. “Don’t absorb it.”“I don’t know how not to,” I whisper.Ruby pushes forward, voice sharp and bright. “Alright, show’s over! Everyone inside. Nothing to see except existential terror—move along!”A few people obey. Others hesitate.A man steps forward. Middle-aged. Shaking. I recognize him—Mr. Dalloway, the hardware store owner.“You saved us,” he says hoarsely.The silver under my skin stirs.“I stopped something,” I say carefully. “That’s all.”He shakes his head. “No. You protected us.”The word lands h
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