Prophecy Fulfilled E t h a n C a m p b E l l Cavern’s awake trilogy - Book III Prophecy Fulfilled Ethan Campbell Ovi ebooks are available in Ovi/Ovi eBookshelves pages and they are for free. If somebody tries to sell you an Ovi book please contact us immediately. For details, contact: ovimagazine@yahoo.com No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise), without the prior permission of the writer or the above publisher of this book An Ovi eBooks Publication 2024 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Prophecy Fulfilled Prophecy Fulfilled Ethan Campbell Cavern’s awake trilogy - Book III Ethan Campbell An Ovi eBooks Publication 2024 Ovi eBookPublications - All material is copyright of the Ovi eBooks Publications & the writer C Prophecy Fulfilled T he wind howled through the narrow gorge , carrying with it the scent of burning wood and something far darker, an omen of the storm that was to come. Calla stood on the preci- pice, looking down at the valley below where the Obsidian Blades had made their camp. Her allies, a mismatched group of warriors, mages, and outcasts, stood in silence behind her, the weight of the coming battle heavy in the air. “Are you sure about this?” A low voice interrupted her thoughts. It was Rook, one of her most trusted companions, a rogue with a sharp mind and even sharper blades. His dark eyes scanned the horizon, wary and uneasy. “This isn’t just another raid, Calla. If we fail here, it’s over. Kael’s army is coming, and if we don’t stop them, there will be no future for any of us.” Ethan Campbell Calla turned to him, her eyes reflecting the firelight of their camp. Her jaw was set, her resolve unwav- ering. “If we don’t strike now, we’ll lose everything. I’ve seen what happens if we don’t stop them.” She held up the Shadowheart, the artefact that had once threatened to consume her, now pulsating with a steady, ominous glow. The dark power inside it had grown, no longer a mere tool, but a part of her. Rook’s gaze flickered to the artefact but he said nothing, sensing the conflict swirling in her. He knew what she had sacrificed to wield its power, and though he trusted her, he didn’t trust the magic. Nei- ther of them could see the cost of this last choice. “We’re with you,” he finally said, though his voice betrayed his concern. “But remember, this magic is dangerous. It might save us today, but I don’t want to see you consumed by it.” “I won’t be consumed,” Calla replied, her voice firm. “I’ll control it. For all of us.” A few steps behind, Amara, the young fire mage, approached. “The Obsidian Blades don’t know what’s coming,” she said, her hands crackling with energy, sparks dancing at her fingertips. “We’ve got a chance, Calla. But you’re right, we can’t waste it.” Prophecy Fulfilled Calla nodded, her thoughts racing. The Blades were more than just mercenaries, they were Kael’s most loyal followers, a fearsome group of assassins and mages, all bound by a shared hunger for pow- er. They were ruthless, cold-blooded, and with Kael’s influence growing stronger, they had to be stopped. Now. Before they brought Kael’s dark reign to frui- tion. With a deep breath, Calla turned toward the edge of the cliff, raising her hand. The shadows around them seemed to deepen, drawn to her command. The artefact pulsed again, and for a moment, the very earth beneath them trembled. “We’re going to need everything we’ve got,” Calla muttered, her fingers moving across the Shadow- heart in a slow, deliberate pattern. The magic she was about to wield was ancient, forbidden, meant to be sealed away, lest it tear apart the fabric of reality it- self. But she had no choice. Amara stepped forward, a worried frown on her face. “Calla, don’t do it. I know you’ve been using the artefact’s power, but this? This is madness. It’s too dangerous.” Calla’s eyes glowed faintly as the Shadowheart Ethan Campbell flared brighter in her palm. “The Obsidian Blades are masters of dark magic. I need more than what I have now.” Her voice was distant, her thoughts momen- tarily lost in the surge of power building inside her. “I’m not asking for your approval, Amara. We need to do this.” Rook laid a hand on her shoulder, his touch ground- ing. “Just remember ...you’re not alone in this.” For a moment, Calla’s heart swelled with gratitude, but there was no turning back. She whispered the in- cantation, a forbidden chant passed down through the darkest corners of the witch’s realm, the syllables twisted and ancient. The Shadowheart thrummed, its energy coursing through her veins like molten fire. The air around them began to warp as the power built, shadows lengthening unnaturally, the very at- mosphere thick with magic. Calla’s hands trembled as she summoned the forbidden energy, but she held firm, pushing past the fear. The ground split, jagged cracks appearing in the earth as the power tore through the landscape. The sky above darkened, clouds swirling into a vortex that screamed with the raw force of the spell. Prophecy Fulfilled And then, it erupted. The valley below was suddenly alive with chaos. The Obsidian Blades were ready for battle, but they had not expected this, this wave of magic so pure, so violent that the air itself seemed to shudder in re- sponse. Their camp scattered as the ground beneath them cracked and split, an unnatural earthquake rolling through the earth. “To me, now!” Calla shouted, raising her hands to- ward the sky. Her voice rang out with the authority of someone who had fully embraced the power with- in the Shadowheart. A powerful pulse of dark magic shot from her hands, weaving through the air like an unstoppable force, tearing through the Blades’ ranks with devastating precision. The first wave of attackers barely had time to re- act as the ground trembled and large chunks of rock shot upward, impaling their numbers. Calla felt her power surging with each strike, the darkness feeding on her resolve. Her body burned with the energy, but she pushed through the pain. She could not afford to falter now. Rook was already in the fray, blades flashing as he moved through the chaos, cutting down any who got Ethan Campbell too close. His eyes locked with Calla’s for a moment, his expression grim but understanding. They were in this together. Amara, standing to Calla’s right, summoned a storm of fire and lightning. She flung her arms wide, the flames spiralling into the sky before crashing down on the enemy lines. Her magic crackled, her hands burning with intensity, but it wasn’t enough. Not without Calla’s support. “We need more time,” Amara shouted as the Blades regrouped, their formation tightening. “They’re too strong...” “They’re not the only ones with power,” Calla said through gritted teeth. With another deep breath, she called upon the shadows once more, but this time, she reached deeper, further, into the heart of the Shadowheart itself. A deep, guttural rumble echoed through the bat- tlefield as the ground shifted. From the cracks in the earth, dark, twisted creatures emerged, manifesta- tions of the very magic Calla had invoked. They were shadows given form, their bodies like liquid black smoke, eyes glowing with an unnatural light. Prophecy Fulfilled “Hold the line!” Calla ordered, stepping forward, her hands glowing with ethereal light. She gestured, and the creatures charged, their forms melting into the ranks of the Obsidian Blades. The scream of a dozen men echoed through the air as the shadows swarmed over them, tearing through armour and flesh with brutal efficiency. Kael’s forces were caught off guard, disoriented, and suddenly fighting a war on two fronts—their own magic clashing with the feral creatures Calla had unleashed. But even with her new power, she knew this wouldn’t be enough. The Obsidian Blades were too well-trained, too ruthless. She needed to take down their leader. Now. Through the smoke and flames, a figure emerged, tall, dark, and imposing. Kael. He was everything Calla feared and more. His eyes were black as pitch, his body wrapped in dark ar- mour that shimmered with an unnatural gleam. He was a sorcerer of unimaginable power, and he had come to finish what he had started. Calla’s heart clenched. She had to stop him, now. Ethan Campbell “Calla,” Kael’s voice was a low, mocking drawl as he stepped closer. “You truly think you can defeat me? You’ve already embraced the darkness. You are mine.” “You’re wrong, Kael,” Calla replied, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “I’m not your puppet. And I’ll never be.” With a flick of his wrist, Kael summoned a wave of dark energy that crashed toward Calla, a torrent of black fire and shadow. She raised her hands, barely managing to conjure a shield in time, but the force of his attack sent her crashing backward, her feet skid- ding across the ground. Pain erupted through her body, but she didn’t back down. She couldn’t. Drawing on every ounce of magic the Shadowheart could offer, she gathered the energy into her hands, feeling it coil and hum. Her fingers crackled with en- ergy as she spoke the final incantation, summoning the full force of the forbidden magic. “Not today,” Calla said through clenched teeth. With a roar, she released the magic, sending a beam of pure, concentrated power straight toward Kael. Prophecy Fulfilled The ground beneath them shattered as Kael sum- moned his own defences, but Calla’s magic ripped through them, striking him with a force so powerful it shook the very foundations of the valley. Kael stag- gered, his form flickering for a moment as though he were made of smoke, but Calla wasn’t done. With a final, desperate cry, she channelled every last bit of the Shadowheart’s energy into one final strike. The beam of magic erupted from her hands, piercing through Kael’s defences and slamming into him with devastating force. The light was blinding. When it faded, the valley was silent. Kael was gone. Calla stood alone, her body trembling, sweat pour- ing down her face as the power of the Shadowheart dissipated. The battlefield around her was quiet, save for the wind carrying the last remnants of dust and smoke. Her allies were still alive, but the cost had been high. The Obsidian Blades had been defeated, their numbers decimated. Rook approached, his face grim but relieved. “You did it. But at what cost?” Ethan Campbell Calla could barely speak, her voice hoarse. “I don’t know... But we stopped him.” The last of Kael’s followers lay in the rubble, defeat- ed. Calla had won, but the price of victory still hung heavy on her shoulders. The war wasn’t over. But this battle, at least, was done. Prophecy Fulfilled II. The moon hung high over the jagged cliffs, casting its pale light across the fortress nestled at the edge of the dark forest. Calla crouched low, her cloak bil- lowing around her like a shadow, blending into the night. The fortress was an impenetrable fortress of stone and steel, its high walls reinforced with dark magic. Guard patrols moved like clockwork, their armoured figures barely visible against the looming structure. Calla’s breath was steady, her pulse racing beneath the calm exterior. She could feel the magic of the place, heavy, oppressive, like a thunderstorm brew- ing on the horizon. But she had no time for hesita- tion. Chloe was inside. Chloe, who had once been a sister to her, before the betrayal, before the fall of their coven. And now, Calla would risk everything to save her. Ethan Campbell Her eyes narrowed as she surveyed the scene. The fortress was alive with activity, a dozen or more hunt- ers patrolling the perimeter. But they weren’t the real threat. Not anymore. The real danger lay within the fortress’s walls. Calla had heard whispers—faint, dis- turbing rumours—that the hunters were no longer acting of their own free will. They were being con- trolled by something far older, far darker. A witch— one who had turned against her own kind, lured by power and greed. That witch, Calla suspected, had once been some- one like her. Someone who had learned to wield magic at great cost. But the price had taken more than just her soul. It had taken her humanity. Calla moved with the grace of a predator, slip- ping through shadows, her senses heightened, every sound amplified in the silence of the night. She had always been good at blending into the darkness, at using the very elements of the world to her advan- tage. But tonight was different. Tonight, the magic in the air felt wrong, corrupted. Her hand instinctively went to the dagger at her belt, a weapon forged from the bones of a fallen god, infused with magic that was as old as time itself. As she approached the fortress gates, she felt the Prophecy Fulfilled tug of an invisible barrier. Dark magic, powerful and ancient, wrapped around the fortress like a protec- tive shield. She could almost taste it—bittersweet, sour, like blood mixed with ash. She concentrated, her mind pushing against the barrier, feeling for a weak point. A pulse of energy surged through her, the force of her own magic, pushing back the barrier just enough for her to slip through undetected. She moved quick- ly, her body flowing like water as she passed through the gate and into the inner courtyard. The hunters didn’t seem to notice her presence, too preoccupied with their duties, their minds clouded by the witch’s influence. As she crept deeper into the heart of the fortress, her footsteps barely making a sound, Calla’s thoughts kept returning to Chloe. The last time she had seen her, Chloe had been a beacon of light—power- ful, fierce, untouchable. But now, everything had changed. Chloe had been captured by the hunters, her power slowly draining as they sought to use her for their own ends. Calla clenched her fists. She wouldn’t let that hap- pen. She couldn’t. Ethan Campbell The corridor was dark, the only light coming from flickering torches mounted on the walls. Calla’s mind raced as she navigated the twisting hallways, the air thick with the stench of damp stone and decay. She could feel the pulse of magic growing stronger as she neared the heart of the fortress—the witch’s lair. It wasn’t long before she found the door. It was old, ancient even, crafted from dark wood that seemed to drink in the light. Symbols—arcane runes Calla could barely recognize, were carved into the surface, swirling like a tempest of forgotten power. With a steadying breath, she placed her palm against the door. The magic within thrummed under her touch, alive, waiting. She whispered an incantation under her breath, weaving a spell of silence to mask her presence. The door creaked open. Inside, the room was dim, the air thick with dark energy. There, standing in the center of the room, was a figure. A woman, pale as death, her long black hair falling over her shoulders in waves of shadows. Her eyes, glowing faintly with an unnatural light, turned slowly to meet Calla’s. “You’ve come,” the woman said, her voice a soft, Prophecy Fulfilled eerie melody. “I was wondering how long it would take before you found me.” Calla’s eyes narrowed. She had expected this. The witch was powerful, yes, but she was also foolish. No one who turned their back on their own kind could escape the consequences forever. “I didn’t come for you,” Calla said coldly, her fin- gers twitching as she prepared to draw upon her own power. “I came for Chloe.” The witch smiled, a slow, cruel curve of her lips. “Ah, Chloe. The last of the coven. How predictable. You think you can save her, don’t you? You think you can stop me?” Calla’s hands clenched into fists, her nails digging into her palms. “You’ve turned your back on every- thing we were. You betrayed us for power.” The witch tilted her head, her eyes glowing bright- er now. “Power?” she echoed softly. “No, dear, I didn’t betray you for power. I did it for survival. You and your precious coven never understood that. Power is survival. You were weak.” Calla’s heart pounded in her chest. She could feel the magic around her—the dark, twisted magic of the Ethan Campbell witch, the very magic that had corrupted the hunters and led them into her grasp. But Calla wouldn’t let it control her. Not now. Not ever. “Survival?” Calla spat. “You’re nothing but a mon- ster.” The witch’s smile faded, her eyes narrowing as she raised her hand. “Then die like one.” With a flick of her wrist, a bolt of black lightning shot toward Calla. She barely had time to react, throwing up a shield of shimmering light just in time to absorb the blow. The force of the impact sent her stumbling back, but she held her ground, her resolve hardening like steel. “You’re not the only one who can wield power,” Calla growled, summoning the ancient magic of her bloodline. Her body crackled with energy as the air around her grew heavy with the weight of her spell. “You’ve made a mistake,” Calla whispered, her voice low and dangerous. “I won’t let you hurt Chloe.” With a shout, she released a surge of magic that shattered the witch’s shield, sending her flying back- ward. The room erupted in light and shadow as the two women clashed, their magic colliding with vio- lent force.