The Witch's Call

**Chapter 18: The Reckoning**

Dara lay in the hollow of the great oak, her breath shallow, her pulse still thundering in her ears as she fought to regain control of her trembling body. The ground around her was quiet now, the wind no longer howling in the wake of the figure’s departure. Yet, in the silence, there was a lingering unease, a sense that the world was not as it had been.

The earth felt different now—heavier, as if it bore a deeper burden than it had moments ago. There was no denying the magic that had surged through her, nor the toll it had taken. She had pushed the shadow from the land, but in doing so, she had unlocked something far more dangerous. The earth was still not whole. The balance she had longed to restore had been shattered beyond repair.

Dara could feel it in her bones.

She rose slowly, her knees unsteady beneath her, and placed a hand against the rough bark of the oak tree. The steady hum of the earth beneath her feet was comforting, but it wasn’t the same. The magic had changed. It was colder, deeper—more ancient.

The battle with the shadow had not been won without consequence. The figure, that dark presence, had been banished—but not destroyed. Something had been torn between the realms, and Dara feared that the worst was yet to come. The earth had its secrets, and the depths of those secrets were still hidden from her.

As she walked through the forest, her feet treading lightly on the soft earth, Dara’s thoughts were heavy. She could still feel the weight of the shadow's voice in her mind, the ominous warning of the earth’s hunger. She could not silence the truth: the forces at play were not over. The land may have pushed back, but it was only a matter of time before something else would emerge. There was no escape from the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, and no easy way to close the door she had opened.

She reached the clearing, where the stone had once pulsed with such terrible power. Now, the stone lay still, its surface cracked and splintered, as if it had been torn apart by an unseen hand. The air around it was thick with a low, palpable tension—a warning, though from what, Dara could not say.

The creatures of the forest were quiet now, their usual chatter gone. The leaves above her hung motionless, their usual rustling stilled as if they too were waiting. The entire world felt... suspended. A momentary ceasefire before the next storm.

But there was no time to linger. Dara knew the battle had only just begun.

As she knelt before the broken stone, her hand hovering just above it, she felt the pull. A tug at the center of her chest, as though the earth itself was calling her, beckoning her toward something deeper, something unknown. It was no longer the comforting call of the land she had once known. This was something darker, something that wished to drag her down into its depths.

She recoiled, her heart pounding, as an overwhelming vision took hold of her. The world around her blurred, the colors bleeding into one another as the scene before her shifted. The earth cracked open, the sky turned black, and the creatures of the deep began to rise. Great fissures tore through the land, and from the dark, shadowy depths, something began to emerge—something vast, something ancient, something that was the true source of the darkness she had confronted.

And then, as suddenly as it had come, the vision vanished.

Dara stumbled backward, gasping for air, her hands shaking. The forest was still again, the familiar sounds of nature slowly returning. But the vision lingered, vivid and unsettling. The creature—*the hunger*—was not gone. It was still there, buried deep beneath the earth, waiting for the right moment to rise again.

She had no answers. The stone was broken, but the earth still held its secrets. Whatever had been unleashed by the stone’s power had not been fully undone. The balance she had sought to restore remained out of reach. The shadows had retreated, but they had not been banished for good.