Chapter 154: The Valley Doesn’t Sleep

They reached the edge of Fortress Valley by midday, but no one spoke when they saw it.

The ground dropped into a deep, jagged basin surrounded by cliffs that looked as if they'd been clawed into shape by giants. No greenery grew here—only sharp black stones, cracked earth, and an oppressive stillness that made even the wind feel like it had been silenced.

It was a dead place. The kind of place where memory clung to the bones of the land and refused to let go.

Serena stood at the ridgeline, her cloak snapping behind her, and stared at what lay below.

Once, long ago, Fortress Valley had been a sanctuary. A neutral ground where old clans met, where peace was brokered between wolves, witches, and kings. But that was before the Gate opened beneath it. Before the soil turned red and the sky above it refused to clear.

Now, it was just another scar.

Mira coughed beside her, eyes watering from the thick air. “The magic here is twisted. Can you feel it?”

Kael nodded. “The barrier was broken, but the residue remains. Something powerful bled into this place.”

Serena stepped forward cautiously. Each step felt heavier. The closer she got, the more the land pushed against her — not physically, but with a force she didn’t understand. Like it wanted her gone. Or dead.

Lyra knelt at the edge of the ridge, tracing something into the dirt. “Tracks,” she murmured. “Gateborn. Old. But not ancient.”

“Caine?” Serena asked.

“Possibly,” Lyra said. “But if he came through here, he didn’t walk out.”

Elias motioned for everyone to descend. “We’ll take the east slope. There’s enough cover for camp if we stay low. No fire tonight.”

Theron added, “And no spells unless necessary. The land might react.”

They descended carefully, every crunch of boot against stone echoing louder than it should. The silence was oppressive. As if the valley had a throat that swallowed sound.

About halfway down, Serena stopped.

Her breath hitched.

She blinked—and suddenly she wasn’t in the valley anymore.

She stood in a vast hall of stone, torches flickering blue. Chains hung from the ceiling. A man knelt before a black altar—Caine. His wrists bled. His head bowed.

A figure approached him.

Not Darian.

Someone older.

Eyes like ice. Skin that shimmered like moonlight turned silver. And a voice that echoed without sound.

You were chosen before she was born. Don’t fight what already belongs to you.

Serena staggered.

“Serena!” Elias’s hand caught her shoulder.

She gasped, blinking. The vision vanished. The valley returned.

“I—I saw something,” she breathed. “Caine. He’s being held here. Not just by Darian. There’s… another.”

Theron’s face darkened. “You connected to the valley.”

“Not by choice.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Kael said. “Now we know he’s close. But we can’t rush in.”

They reached the bottom of the valley and moved into a crumbling ruin near the cliff wall—what had once been a watchtower. It wasn’t much, but the thick stone walls offered cover and the remnants of enchantments hinted at forgotten protection.

Lyra and Kael took first watch. Mira sat in the far corner, meditating with her hands over her chest. Theron set up faint wards that wouldn’t disturb the land. Elias helped Serena remove her armor, silent but steady.

When he looked up at her, there was a question in his eyes.

“You’ve been hearing things since yesterday,” he said quietly. “Seeing things. It’s getting stronger.”

Serena nodded. “It’s like the Gate is pushing through me. I keep hearing voices in the wind, in the stone, even when I’m awake.”

“Then we’re running out of time.”

She touched her temple, fingers shaking. “What if they’re right? What if I’m becoming what they want me to be?”

Elias shook his head. “No. You’re not becoming anything. You are something. Someone. The fact that you’re fighting it — that means more than you know.”

She leaned into him, just for a second, letting his warmth silence the noise in her head.

But even then… it didn’t stop completely.

That night, Serena dreamed again.

She stood on a battlefield. Ash fell from the sky. Wolves and shadows warred in the distance. And in the center, a throne made of bone and stone. Upon it—her.

Her hair longer. Her eyes silver. Her hands covered in blood.

Darian knelt before her, smiling.

“You finally understand,” he said. “You were never meant to be saved. You were meant to rule.”

She screamed—and woke.

Her hands burned.

Not metaphorically.

Literal flames licked across her skin, gold and white, dancing without consuming. She cried out, and Elias was there instantly, grabbing her wrists.

“Breathe!” he commanded. “Serena, you have to pull it back!”

She tried. The fire flared once—then vanished.

Everyone was awake now. Mira stared at her with wide eyes. Kael had his sword halfway drawn. Even Theron looked unnerved.

“I’m fine,” Serena gasped, chest heaving.

“No,” Mira whispered. “You’re changing. The power’s not just waking up. It’s choosing sides.”

“Whose side?” Lyra asked.

They all looked at Serena.

She didn’t answer.

The next morning, the sky was black when it should’ve been gray. Not with clouds—but with smoke. Thin tendrils drifted upward from the far side of the valley.

A fire. Controlled. Deliberate.

A signal.

Serena and Elias moved to the top of the watchtower and scanned the horizon.

There, at the center of the valley, was a figure.

Caine.

Bound, standing atop a stone platform, hands chained, but alive.

And beside him, something massive — a towering arch of dark stone, glowing faintly with silver runes.

A second Gate.

Kael climbed up behind them, his face pale.

“They want us to see him.”

Serena nodded.

“It’s a trap,” Mira said flatly. “Obvious.”

“Doesn’t matter,” Serena replied. “We go anyway.”

Elias’s voice was tight. “Then we plan it carefully. No risks.”

Serena’s jaw clenched.

She didn’t say it aloud, but they all knew the truth:

There were always risks.

But this time… the valley wasn’t sleeping.

And whatever was awakening inside her, it wouldn’t be patient much longer.