The night was thick with tension, the kind that hangs in the air like a storm waiting to break. Every sound seemed to echo, every movement amplified by the uncertainty of what was to come. Cinderella and I had gathered in the deepest part of the castle, far away from prying eyes, in a chamber filled with ancient symbols carved into the stone floor. The ritual would take place here, where the magic was oldest, where the veil between worlds was thinnest.
But as much as we tried to prepare, I could feel the weight of the unknown pressing down on us. The ritual itself was shrouded in mystery, its exact details hidden within texts too old for anyone to truly understand. We had only one certainty: it was a gamble. A chance. A slim hope.
And yet, it was the only chance we had.
Cinderella stood at the center of the room, her arms raised in the ancient position dictated by the ritual, her face pale but determined. She was already beginning to tremble again, but it wasn't from fear—it was from the energy coursing through her, the power that threatened to tear her apart and the force that could very well be her salvation.
I could see it—the subtle glow that surrounded her skin, the way the air seemed to hum with energy. It was the magic, yes, but it wasn't just any magic. It was the dark, twisted power that had been planted inside her, the one the prince had so carefully nurtured and cultivated. It was alive, and it was fighting to stay.
I stood just beyond her, watching the shadows shift across the room. My heart pounded in my chest, but I couldn't let my fear show. Not now. Not when it was so close. If we failed here, everything would be lost. I would lose her. The prince would win. The world would be one step closer to falling into his hands.
Cinderella's voice broke the silence, soft and trembling, but filled with resolve. "Are you ready?" she asked, her gaze meeting mine.
I nodded. "We do this together. You're not alone."
She closed her eyes, taking a slow, steadying breath. For a moment, everything in the room seemed to fall away—there was no prince, no danger, no impending threat. There was only us. The two of us, bound by something stronger than fear. By trust.
The ritual required blood—her blood, as the one who had inherited the dark power. Her hand moved to her chest, her fingers grazing the edges of the blackened mark that had appeared on her skin ever since the prince's spell had taken hold. With a deep breath, she drew a dagger from her side, its blade gleaming in the candlelight, and placed it against her palm.
I watched as her hand trembled for just a second before she pressed down hard. A soft gasp escaped her lips as the dagger sliced through her skin, the blood welling up and dripping onto the stone beneath her. Her eyes fluttered closed, and she whispered something under her breath—words I couldn't understand, but which seemed to carry a weight of their own.
I stepped forward, my own hands shaking, but I didn't hesitate. I placed my hands over hers, feeling the warmth of her blood mixing with mine. She wasn't alone. I wouldn't let her be.
As I pressed my palms against her, the room around us began to change. The temperature dropped, and I could feel the air crackling with dark energy, thick and suffocating. The power inside her responded, stretching, pushing against the walls of her body like a wild beast desperate to be free.
I could hear it—the whispering voices, the low growls of something deep within her, rising up to the surface. The prince's magic was trying to fight back, trying to regain control, but we were stronger than it. We had to be.
"Hold on, Cinderella," I said, my voice strained as the power swirled around us. "Don't let go. We're almost there."
Her eyes snapped open, now glowing faintly with an unnatural light. "I... can't... control it, Red," she whispered, her voice breaking. "It's too much."
The power was rising, the air thick with it, like a storm about to unleash its fury. I could feel it wrapping around us, trying to pull us under, but I couldn't let go. Not now. Not when we were so close.
"I'm with you," I said fiercely, my voice almost a growl. "We are the storm."
With a final, desperate push, I forced my will into the ritual. The blood on our hands seemed to pulse, and the room shuddered. The floor beneath us cracked, and the air crackled with a sound that could only be described as thunder, but from within us. The power inside Cinderella roared in fury, fighting to stay, but I could feel the tide turning. It was weakening. The connection was starting to fray.
But just as we thought we were winning, the door to the chamber burst open, and a cold, mocking laugh echoed through the room.
"You really think you can break it?" the prince's voice dripped with contempt. "You think you can defy me?"
I turned, heart sinking in my chest, as the prince strode into the room, flanked by a group of his soldiers. Their eyes glowed with the same unnatural light that I had seen in Cinderella's when the power took hold of her. They were his puppets, twisted by the same magic he'd tried to force into her.
The prince's eyes were locked on Cinderella, his gaze hungry, predatory. "You think you can sever what I've built? You think you can escape me?" His voice was cold, but beneath it, I heard something else—desperation. The ritual was working. It was hurting him.
"You can't stop me," I spat, stepping in front of Cinderella, my hand reaching for the dagger at my side. "Not this time."
The prince's lip curled into a snarl, his soldiers readying their weapons. "I don't need to stop you. You're too late."
With a flick of his wrist, the soldiers surged forward, but I was ready. I leaped at the closest one, my dagger cutting through the air with a sharp scream, but in that split second, everything went white.
The magic inside the room exploded outward, a violent surge that threw us all to the ground. The stone floor cracked beneath us, and the light from the candles went out, plunging the room into darkness. I could barely hear anything over the roar of the power that seemed to tear at the fabric of the world.
And then, everything stopped.
I opened my eyes, but the world around me was still spinning. I pushed myself up, my body aching, and looked around. The prince was gone. His soldiers, too.
But Cinderella...
I turned toward her, my heart hammering in my chest. She was standing in the center of the room, her eyes wide, glowing with a power I didn't recognize. The mark on her chest had disappeared, and in its place was a brilliant, blinding light.
But the power didn't feel like the prince's anymore.
It felt like hers.