Yes... closer now... CLOSER...
The queen's excitement is palpable, making my skin crawl. I grit my teeth against her intrusion, mentally pushing back against her presence even as we physically move closer to her prison. It's like walking willingly into quicksand, knowing you'll sink but hoping to find something valuable beneath the surface before you suffocate.
"You okay?" Hawke murmurs, sensing my struggle through our bond.
"I will be," I whisper back, straightening my shoulders. "Once this is over."
The stairs seem endless, coiling upward like a serpent. My legs burn with the effort, already weakened from weeks of poor sleep and constant stress. Just when I think my legs might give out, we reach a heavy oak door bound with iron. It stands partially open, golden light spilling through the gap.
I pause before it, gathering my courage. This is it. Whatever answers I seek are on the other side, along with the queen whose voice has been tormenting me for weeks. I close my eyes briefly, steeling myself against both my fear and her rising excitement.
"I'm ready," I say, more to convince myself than my companions.
Hawke pushes the door open wider and we step into the circular chamber.
The Round Table dominates the center of the room—not really a table at all, but a massive tree stump polished to a mirror shine, five chairs growing seamlessly from its edge.
Last time I was here, the sheer historical weight of this place had left me awestruck. The legends, the stories, the magick of Avalon—it had all felt distant then, a piece of history rather than something living and breathing. But now...
Now the room pulses with malevolent energy, the very air crackling with the queen's anticipation. The hair on my arms stands on end, my magick responding instinctively to the power saturating the chamber. It's the difference between seeing a lion in a zoo and encountering one in the wild. This time, I can feel the danger beneath the surface of everything.
But it's not the table that draws my attention. It's the far wall, where a doorway-shaped scorch mark blackens the stone. Cracks radiate outward from it like a spider's web, some glowing faintly.
The largest crack pulses with energy, a sliver of... something... visible beyond. Not darkness, not light, but a shimmering grey void that seems to both exist right in front of me and impossibly far away.
"Melinda," Hawke says sharply, his hand tightening around mine. "Stay back."
But I barely hear him. The queen's voice drowns out everything else, no longer just inside my head but vibrating in the very stones around us. I feel her pull like a physical tether wrapped around my core, tugging me inexorably toward the largest crack.
I move toward it as if in a trance, my feet carrying me forward of their own accord. The voice is clearer now, no longer just in my head but emanating from the crack itself.
Part of me screams in warning—this is exactly what Hawke feared, exactly why coming here was dangerous. But another part, the part desperate for answers, for relief from the constant torment, pushes me forward despite the danger signals firing through my brain.
Melinda...
"What do you want from me?" I whisper.
WAITING.
Her voice shifts erratically, sometimes a whisper, sometimes a scream that makes my skull vibrate. The words come in disjointed bursts.
You. YOU. Like me. Power. Listen-listen-listen.
"What do you mean 'like me'?" I ask.
Same. SAME! Magick. A sound like broken laughter, then sudden weeping. Help me. HELP. ME. Find him.
I take a step back, unnerved by her rapid mood shifts. "Help you? Find who?"
Dread pools in my stomach as I watch the queen's fractured emotions play across her ethereal face. One moment pleading, the next raging. This isn't going at all how I'd hoped. I came here for answers, for relief from her constant presence in my mind, not to be dragged into whatever deranged quest she's fixated on.
Behind me, I can feel Hawke and Kellan's tension radiating like heat. My own fear rises with each of the queen's erratic shifts. She's not just dangerous—she's completely unhinged. Her mind is shattered, splintered into jagged pieces that cut and slice with every word.
LIES! All LIES! The rage in her voice makes the stones around me tremble. Then, abruptly softer. They took him. Want him back.
"Took who?" I ask, though something in me already knows the answer.
My SON! The word tears through my mind like a blade.
