The room, once brimming with warmth and hope, had grown cold, its air thick with despair and fear. The village outside, once alive with celebration and joy, was now besieged by desperate screams and the relentless rumble of storms and debris, heralding the fierce battle of the heavenly titans overhead. Furniture shook under the vibrations of distant roars, the chaotic symphony of destruction echoing through the night.
Only the murky moonlight, seeping through the window, illuminated the room, casting ghostly shadows as Raquel's hands moved with frantic purpose, searching through the shelves. A cry of relief broke the tension when she found the source of hope. "I found it! ¡Lo encontré, Rigel!" she exclaimed, her fingers closing around a crystal-framed amulet, its facets flickering with a desperate gleam. Clutching it to her chest, she whispered, "Please, help us, please…" Her voice was a repeating chant of trust in the heavenly.
Beside her, young Rigel and Daniel stood, their faces etched with confusion and dread. Rigel's eyes, wide with the innocence of youth, reflected the storm of turmoil around them. Her voice, small and fraught with uncertainty, broke through the tense silence, "¡Mamá! What's happening?"
Raquel turned, her features strained as she enveloped Rigel in a protective embrace, her voice a trembling whisper meant to reassure. "Everything is fine, dear, todo estará bien," she murmured, though the tremor in her words betrayed her true feelings. She clutched Rigel tightly, as if her embrace could shield her daughter from the horrors of the night. "He will come, he must…" she added; the delicate quiver in her voice, however, did little to calm Rigel's mounting anxiety.
As the tumult outside swelled to a fever pitch, the door burst open with a resounding crash, as though the chaos beyond had finally breached their final sanctuary. A wave of terror rippled through the room, seizing every soul within. Raquel spun toward the sound, her heart leaping to her throat.
The alarm, however, was fleeting, tempered quickly by a collective sigh of relief. A cluster of familiar faces filled the doorway—some etched with desperation, others marked by a vacant, drunken emptiness.
Carlos and Miguel stepped forward, supporting a figure between them. Tabitha, the prophetess who had once stood as an indomitable pillar of strength, now leaned heavily on their shoulders, her feet dragging over the threshold. Blood stained her robes, her face pale and drawn, and even her once-great antlers seemed dulled. Yet, the villagers who had followed her crowded the doorway, their presence a mute plea for guidance, for salvation.
Relief proved fleeting, chased swiftly away by an insidious unease. The very sight of Heaven’s chosen one in such a state seemed, if not outright blasphemy, then madness. A look of horror overtook Daniel’s face as he dashed toward his mother. “Mother!” the boy’s voice cracked like brittle glass, his sobs spilling forth as tears streaked down his cheeks. His frame quaked with each hurried step as he threw himself toward the druidess.
Tabitha’s eyes, heavy with weariness and veiled by pain, softened when they found her son. Summoning what little strength remained, she extended a trembling hand, her fingers brushing against his tear-streaked face. “I’m back, chaver,” she murmured, her voice a fragile melody, yet wrapping around the boy like armor.
“Thank you, my na’arah,” Tabitha whispered hoarsely, her gaze shifting to Raquel. “Thank you…” she repeated, her voice softer now. Her eyes carried a gratitude too profound for words—the kind only a mother, seeing her child safe in the midst of chaos, could truly understand.
"Tabitha, you're bleeding! What happened to you? Where is Baruch?" Raquel’s words spilled out in a frantic rush, each one sharper than the last. Her eyes remained fixed on the blood soaking through Tabitha’s robes, the sight feeding the fire of her rising panic.
The druidess shook her head, the motion slow but resolute. “No time… no time for questions,” she interrupted, her voice strained yet firm. Her gaze lifted skyward to the chaos above, where monstrous entities that had once kept their distance now locked in deadly combat overhead, their colossal forms casting harrowing shadows upon the village below.
Raquel’s fingers tightened around the amulet in her hand, its crystal facets catching what little light remained. “What are they? What do we do?” she whispered, her voice breaking under the weight of rising fear and uncertainty.
Tabitha’s gaze snapped back to her, and despite the tremors that coursed through her body, her expression was unyielding. “You and Rigel must leave,” she commanded. "We all must." Her gaze, firm and resolute despite its weakness, swept over the faces surrounding her, leaving no room for argument. “Follow me.”
Miguel and Carlos exchanged a hesitant glance, doubt flickering in their eyes before both nodded in reluctant agreement. Supporting Tabitha between them, they helped her pivot with painstaking care. Daniel moved at his mother’s side like a shadow, his youthful frame pressed tightly against her.
As Tabitha crossed the threshold of the house, Raquel's imploring whispers halted her. "Please... We need you more than ever…" Raquel's voice, fragile and wavering, tugged at the still air. Her hands clutched the amulet tighter, her pleas intensifying. "Tabitha needs you… your daughter needs you!" The desperation in her voice filled the rapidly collapsing space around them.
"Let me stand," Tabitha insisted, steadying herself as Miguel questioned with concern, "Are you sure?" His reluctance was clear, but her firm nod dispelled any doubts. The men gently lowered the druidess to her feet; her legs quivered, barely supporting her weight. Summoning the last vestiges of her strength, Tabitha turned to Carlos. Relieved of her weight, Carlos straightened, rolling his shoulders to ease the tension. With a clear and authoritative voice, Tabitha commanded, "Summon the rest; we are leaving." Carlos nodded and, with a dutiful bow, quickly set off to fulfill the druidess's task, soon disappearing into the murky depths of the alley.
Turning back to Raquel, Tabitha's features softened yet remained resolute. "I will take care of you two, but we must hurry, Raquel," she urged, her voice cutting through the thick air. Raquel's response was a whisper, carrying the remnants of hope, "He promised..."
"I know… I know he did. But he isn't here now - we're on our own," Tabitha replied, her tone blending gentleness with an iron resolve.
Rigel, observing the exchange with growing anxiety, called out to her mother, "Mom, come on!" Her plea was both urgent and tender. With quick steps, she crossed the threshold of the house and joined the others, her hand extended to her mother, expecting that their palms would soon intertwine.
Heartened by the daughter's plea, Raquel rose with intent, Raquel's features hardened from despair to determination. Yet as she moved towards the threshold, the timbers above whispered ominously of impending doom. In an instant, the world turned treacherous—the ceiling groaned a foreboding squeal before yielding to gravity's merciless pull. A deafening rumble tore through the air, swiftly followed by a crushing sound as the roof caved in, its downfall heralding a cascade of darkness that enveloped Raquel.
At first, a sharp, excruciating pain lanced through Raquel, a piercing agony that seemed to drown out her own scream. Then, darkness flooded her vision, an all-encompassing blackness that devoured every speck of light. This merciless shadow crept into the corners of her mind, swallowing thoughts and memories alike, smothering her consciousness under its oppressive weight. In those final moments, a serene quietude enveloped her, a stark, chilling peace that promised an end to all suffering—a whisper of oblivion.
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