The dawn was pale, filtering through the frost-covered windows of the Thorncroft estate. The faint light did little to dispel the oppressive weight hanging over Eleanor. She sat in the study, surrounded by stacks of ancient tomes and her mother’s journals. The symbols and whispers haunted her thoughts like a constant hum, pushing her closer to answers—or madness.

Lena appeared in the doorway, her expression tight with worry. “Eleanor,” she said softly, “the villagers are growing restless. Another person fell ill last night. The marks are spreading.”

Eleanor rubbed her temples. “It’s all connected to the shards. I’m certain of it. But understanding how to stop this is like unraveling a nightmare written in a language I barely comprehend.”

Lena stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on her sister’s shoulder. “We’ll figure this out. You’ve already done more than anyone else could. They trust you, Eleanor.”

Eleanor sighed, her gaze drifting to the window. Beyond the estate’s grounds, the distant silhouette of the Obelisk loomed like a silent sentinel. “Trust won’t stop this. We need to act.”

The village square was a scene of chaos. Dozens of villagers gathered, their anxious murmurs blending into a cacophony. At the center of the commotion was a young woman, her arms bound as she thrashed and screamed. The symbols—glowing faintly and shifting—crawled across her skin.

“She’s cursed!” someone shouted.

“It’s the shards! They’re bringing ruin to all of us!” cried another.

Eleanor and Lena pushed their way through the crowd. “Stop this madness!” Eleanor commanded, her voice cutting through the din. “She’s not cursed—she’s afflicted. And if we let fear dictate our actions, we’ll be no better than the horrors we face.”

The villagers hesitated, but the panic in their eyes didn’t waver. Eleanor knelt beside the woman, who had collapsed to her knees. Her breathing was shallow, and the marks pulsed faintly. Eleanor placed her hand on the woman’s forehead, feeling the hum of energy she had come to associate with the Obelisk.

“We need to move her to the estate,” Eleanor said firmly. “If we can stabilize her, we might learn more about what’s happening.”

The woman, Sarah, was placed in the estate’s infirmary. Eleanor worked tirelessly, examining the marks and cross-referencing them with the symbols in the Codex Umbra. Lena brought tea and supplies, her presence a steadying force.

“The marks are reacting differently on her,” Eleanor noted, her brow furrowed. “They’re more… alive. Almost as if they’re adapting.”

Lena frowned. “Adapting to what?”

Before Eleanor could answer, Sarah’s eyes snapped open. She gasped, her body arching as if seized by an unseen force. Her voice was raw and guttural, but the words she spoke were unmistakable.

“When the shadow consumes the light,” Sarah rasped, “the gate shall open.”

Eleanor’s heart pounded. “The same phrase,” she murmured. “It’s like she’s channeling something… or someone.”

Sarah’s body went limp, her breathing shallow once more. Eleanor stood, her mind racing. “These marks… they’re not just a curse. They’re a connection. A bridge to something greater.”

The revelation pushed Eleanor to return to the site of the first shard. The clearing in the forest was eerily quiet, the soil still disturbed where the shard had been unearthed. But as she stepped closer, the air grew heavy, almost tangible.

“Do you feel that?” Lena asked, shivering despite the lack of wind.

Eleanor nodded. “The energy here… it’s different. Stronger.” She knelt, running her fingers over the earth. A faint glow emanated from the soil, and when she brushed it aside, a fragment of the shard was revealed.

“It’s still here,” she whispered, picking it up carefully. The fragment was small, but its surface was alive with shifting symbols. As she held it, the whispers grew louder in her mind, an indecipherable chorus that made her head ache.

“We need to take this back,” Eleanor said. “If we can study it, we might find a way to sever the connection.”

Back at the estate, Eleanor placed the shard fragment on a table surrounded by her mother’s journals and the Codex Umbra. The fragment pulsed faintly, resonating with the symbols on the pages. Eleanor worked late into the night, piecing together fragments of knowledge.

Lena entered, her face drawn. “You’ve been at this for hours. You need to rest.”

Eleanor shook her head. “Rest won’t stop this. I’m close, Lena. I can feel it.”

She traced a line of text in the Codex, her eyes narrowing. “Here,” she said, pointing. “This passage mentions a ritual. Something to bind the shards and neutralize their energy.”

“Neutralize?” Lena asked. “Is that even possible?”

Eleanor’s lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t know. But it’s a start.”

The ritual required specific components: symbols drawn in blood, a circle of protective salt, and a vessel to contain the shard’s energy. It was dangerous, and the margin for error was slim.

The following night, Eleanor and Lena prepared the ritual in the estate’s cellar. The air was thick with tension as they worked, drawing the symbols and placing the shard fragment at the circle’s center.

“Are you sure about this?” Lena asked, her voice trembling.

Eleanor nodded. “We don’t have a choice. If this works, we can stop the marks from spreading.”

As Eleanor began the incantation, the air in the room seemed to shift. The shard fragment glowed brighter, its symbols moving faster. The whispers grew louder, filling the space with an almost physical presence.

Then, with a deafening crack, the shard shattered. A wave of energy surged outward, knocking both sisters to the ground. When the dust settled, the shard was gone, its remnants reduced to fine ash.

“Did it work?” Lena asked, coughing.

Eleanor staggered to her feet, her gaze fixed on the circle. The symbols had faded, and the oppressive energy was gone. “I think so,” she said, though her voice was uncertain. “But this was just one fragment. There are more out there. And the Obelisk… it’s still waiting.”

The village was quiet the next morning. Sarah’s condition had stabilized, and no new cases of the marks had appeared. But Eleanor knew this was only a temporary reprieve. The Obelisk’s presence loomed larger than ever, a reminder of the battle yet to come.

Standing at the edge of the estate, Eleanor looked out toward the horizon. “The shards are pieces of something greater,” she said to Lena, who stood beside her. “If we’re to stop this, we need to find them all. And we need to understand the Obelisk’s true purpose.”

Lena placed a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “We’ll face it together. Whatever comes, we’ll be ready.”

Eleanor’s gaze hardened. “We have to be. Because this is just the beginning.”

The Obelisk, silent and foreboding, seemed to watch them from afar. And in the depths of its shadow, something stirred.