Written in the 3rd Person

(This Chapter is going to be a bit longer than usual. You'll see why!)

With great reluctance, both Mianite and Dianite had agreed to the plan. They promised only to intervene if someone was in danger of getting critically injured – the rest of the time, they had to let the chips fall where they may. Their only condition was that Ianita was left out of it, Nobody else had any idea of the plan, not one inkling – they all thought Mianite and Dianite wanted to interrogate Caitlin about what Ianite had said to her before she died. Martha was desperate to join in that conversation but Dianite spoke to her quietly, pointing out that to get honest answers out of Caitlin, they would need to potentially use force and he didn't want Martha to see that. It was an intricate game of lies that was being played.

Mianite assembled everyone into what had been dubbed the 'war room' and began to drone on about potential plans of attack, leaving everyone either bored or irritated – as per the norm for Mianite's speeches. Sonja and Tucker were sat together, hand in hand as if they were anchored to one another in a never ending storm. Tom stood to the side, by himself – staring over at where Jordan was lying, a bitter look in his eyes. Wag and Martha had just sent Ianita out to go collect the apples from the orchard at Mianite's request, stating that the war plans shouldn't be shared with her until they were finalised. Caitlin was sat in the far corner of the room, a look of fierce concentration on her face that nobody dared to accuse her of not paying attention, even Tucker's barbed insults about 'some people not pulling their weight' couldn't rouse her from her thoughts.

"The main issue with attacking the Shadows is that we have no real idea what forms he could take to thwart our attack formations. If we attack from the sky, he may attempt to damage our wings or block our magic, causing us to tumble to the earth and splatter like bugs on the windows. If we attack from the ground, he may use the earth beneath our feet against us or rise above us and pick us off one by one. If we attack from the ocean... Tucker, what's wrong?"

Tucker had suddenly stood up, his hand on the hilt of his sword as his eyes scanned the room in a panic, his head jerking rapidly from side to side as if he was being surrounded with no exit in sight. His eyes had turned an eerie soulless black as he pulled his sword from its sheath, spinning frantically and thrusting it forward into an invisible foe. Everyone else watched on in confusion and horror as he started slashing wildly at the thin air as if possessed by some madness. However, all Tucker could see were the shadowy beings advancing towards him, their sharpened claws reaching endlessly for his throat in an attempt to end his life. For every shadow monster he slew, a dozen more spawned where its comrade had fallen – an endless army baying for his blood. His ears were filled with the screams of the dying and the hissing of the living, causing him to swipe his blade faster and faster until he heard a pain filled scream he knew so well.

Sonja lay on the ground, a stab wound to her stomach as the shadow creatures began to melt away – their corpses littering the ground around Tucker's feet. A strangled cry escaped Tucker's lips as he dropped his sword and raced to her side, pressing his hand against the wound he had inflicted upon her. She coughed and spluttered, blood pouring out of her mouth – turning her lips a startling crimson that only brought grief and self-loathing into Tucker's mind. She clutched his shirt feebly, her strength disappearing as fast as her blood. Tucker was helpless to watch as her chest heaved and then suddenly stopped, her body fading out of his hands as he desperately tried to hold onto the girl he loved so much. When she was gone, Tucker merely sat on the floor – rocking back and forth, weeping uncontrollably in grief.

The others looked on at the suddenly broken wreck of a man in confusion, Sonja – whose death had all been a hallucination in Tucker's mind, reaching out to her boyfriend in an attempt to comfort him. However, soon Tucker wasn't the only one suffering from these vivid delusions. Mianite and Dianite were helpless as they watched their heroes and their niece suffer in the confines of their own mind – each of their eyes turning soulless black that Tucker's did and creeping shadows surrounding their terror-stricken forms.

Martha's breath caught in her throat as she saw her mother standing in the doorway, exactly the way she was on the day she died. A pale figure of beauty, with haunting eyes that were void of any emotion except grief. Martha went to step towards her mother but found that her feet were frozen to the floor by some mystical power that no amount of pulling or tugging at her shoes would fix. She was helpless to watch as her mother began to crumble away into ashes as she had done before, only hearing the same words over and over again:

"Why did you let me die? No true child would let their mother perish without doing anything... No true goddess would stand aside and let evil do as it wished. You are a failure Martha. A failure to all, no-one will ever follow you or love you or respect you. You will die alone and unloved, forever known as Martha the Kinslayer."

The ashes of Ianite faded and began to swirl, reforming into the hauntingly similar Ianita. Her childhood innocence had returned but her eyes full of confusion. Ianita looked down, causing Martha's gaze to drop, only to see a gaping wound in Ianita's stomach – the crimson blood spreading and staining Ianita's favourite shirt. Ianita began to tremble, fear crossing her face which was growing paler as the blood poured out of her. Martha fought endlessly, trying to force her feet to move – through magic or brute force, but nothing would work. Ianita collapsed to the floor, her little shoulders heaving as she fought to breathe, tears streaming down her cheeks and her little voice whimpering:

"Why didn't you save me, Auntie?"

Tom was oblivious to the cries of his friends – his voice filled with whispers and threats, inner demons and actual demons baying for blood, begging for him to lose control for even a second... Bursts of searing pain exploded behind his eyelids as he fought to silence them all, hearing the growling voice of his Dianite louder than all the rest. Dianite demanded blood; he wanted a sacrifice to prove his loyalty, to prove that he was worth something instead of being a useless failure that he appeared to be right now.

"I want the blood of your friends. I want their screams of agony as they fall onto your blade and perish; I want your unwavering loyalty. I want them to scream of betrayal as they take their last breaths and I want you to have no-one left to turn to in this world but me. You can't betray me if there is no one to turn and run to now, can you? Do it Thomas! Do it now before I take the sword from your cowardly hands and do it myself. At least if you do it, it'll be a slow death – if I do it, I'll make sure they scream for a long time. Not as long as you will mind you especially if you fail me."

Tom clawed at his face, shaking his head back and forth constantly muttering - "No, no, no. I won't do it. I can't do it." He screamed out of frustration and agony, a guttural cry that was filled with fear and regret – one that silenced the voices in his mind. His eyes snapped open, flickering around the room in fear of Dianite suddenly striking his friends down, only to be faced with something worse. Jordan was convulsing on the table, a frantic motion that struck terror deep into Tom's bones. He rushed to Jordan's bedside, desperately trying to pin him down so he wouldn't hurt himself – wounds that were not there before suddenly oozing darkness and sickness. Jordan's eyes rolled in the back of his head like a frightened animal, his hands clawing at his throat as his face began to turn purple – he couldn't breathe. Tom was helpless as the thrashing began to slow, his friend dying in his arms with nothing he could do about it. He was alone.

Sonja stood on a cliff; alone save for the crows that flew overhead – waiting for someone to die so they could feast. Across the way, stood all those she held dear. Tucker, Jordan, Tom, Wag, Martha, Mianite, Dianite and even tiny Ianita stood facing her with fury and loathing in their eyes. She attempted to run to them but a wall of air kept pushing her backwards. She cried for them to assist her but she was ignored, barely spared a glance as she fought against the buffering winds that blew her further and further backwards. Her friends stood there, watching as she was blown closer and closer to the cliff's edge, making no attempt to assist her. Merely observing.

"We always knew you were of bad blood Sonja. You claimed your intentions were for good but we saw through your ruse. You are a despicable person, not worthy of the songs that were sung about your heroics. Not worthy of our friendship, nor of my love. You mean nothing to me now."

Sonja's heart shattered into a million fragments at those words, her eyes brimming with tears and her muscles screaming at the exertion she was putting them through. Tucker stared back at her – loathing and hate turning his normally kind eyes steely, his warm smile now turned into a dark frown full of deadly promises if she survived this ordeal. Her vision moved across her friends, those she deemed as close as family to her but she saw no kindness in those eyes. Not once ounce of regret for what was about to happen to her. Seeing that hatred sucked the determination out of Sonja, her weary muscles giving into the powerful winds that sought her demise – allowing them to push her over the edge of the cliff towards the crashing waves and sharp rocks below. She was falling, hated and unloved, falling.

Wag's visions were filled with blood and screams. His whole body was chained to the wall of a dungeon, keeping him on his knees – completely unable to move anything, meaning that he couldn't look away from the horrors that were right in front of him. Ianita and Martha were opposite him – staring in fear at the shadowy being that stood over them, brandishing a sharp dagger that was as dark as the void. As his eyes adjusted to the dark around him, he could make out deep wounds and cuts on their skin, each of them oozing ominous black pus that burned like acid into their skin – causing screams of agony to start to echo around the cell. Ianita sobbed as Martha strained to place her body between the shadowy tormentor and her small shaking form, watching as her aunt screamed and screamed as the blade came down again and again.

Wag strained against his chains, trying to break them or move them even an inch closer, his muscles bulging and his body straining as he threw his entire weight into the action – the chains digging into his skin and opening wounds, blood seeping down from where the manacles lay but Wag did not feel that pain. His heart was screaming in agony at the pain of those he loved. Poor, sweet, innocent little Ianita was curled into a ball – each shriek of agony was a dagger into Wag's heart. Every time the torturer raised his arm and brought the weapon swinging down, Wag would bellow for him to stop, pleading and begging for some ounce of mercy that deep down he knew didn't exist. Martha lay still, her violet eyes staring at Wag as her life slowly drained away. Wag's tears fell as he muttered:

"This wasn't supposed to happen. He said they'd be safe, that they'd be unharmed if I did it. He promised me, we signed in blood, this wasn't the deal, oh PLEASE GOD MAKE IT STOP."

As Wag shouted those words, suddenly all the hallucinations stopped. Sonja, Tucker, Tom and Martha all blinked rapidly as if awaking from a dream. Sonja and Tucker ran to one another, clutching each other closer than ever – fearing that the world may try to tear them apart. Tom sank to his knees, crying as he stared at his friends and at the living form of Jordan on the table. Martha ran to Mianite, tears streaming down her cheeks as she hugged him desperately – seeking comfort in the closest family member she could find. Wag just stared at the floor, relief and regret warring in his eyes.

Caitlin was still sat in the corner, her normally blue eyes now the soulless black all the others eye's had turned. Her face was drawn of all colours, exhaustion lined her face and her entire body was shaking from the levels of exertion she had just put herself through. The shadows that had crept around all her victims flowed back to her, leaving the room light and normal once again. There wasn't time to recover from what had just happened, she had to act now before it was too late. Caitlin used the wall to pull herself upright and staggered over to where Wag was kneeling – placing a hand on his shoulder as if to comfort him. However, that was not her intention. She pulled Wag back, forcing his body to lie flat on the ground as the shadows rose to restrain him. They flew across his body swiftly, anchoring him to the ground and forcing his hands to remain utterly still – immobilising him both from struggling and from using magic.

"Here is our traitor."

Mianite gently pulled Martha off of him, turning her to face Wag and allowing the message to sink in. Tom, Tucker and Sonja all realised this too – despite being deep into their hallucinations, their bodies were still in the real world so their senses had picked up on Wag's accidental confession.

"Wag... Out of everyone, I never thought it would be you!"

Sonja murmured in shock and outrage. Caitlin stared sadly down at Wag, before replying to Sonja.

"Sometimes, it's the ones who seem to have no motive are the ones you can trust the least."

Tucker and Tom looked livid with fury; their gaze passing from Jordan's prone form to the culprit who helped put him there. Martha couldn't look Wag in the eye, her eyes filled with heartbreak and grief. Sonja's face was void of all emotions except disappointment. Caitlin swayed in place, the trials she had put her body through finally overpowering her sheer stubbornness, causing her to collapse where she stood – tumbling into the darkness of unconsciousness.

A/N

I am sorry for all the feelings I may have just destroyed.

No I'm not :P

What is Wag's motive, I hear you cry?

You'll find out next chapter!

Hope you enjoyed this long, detailed and pinnacle chapter in this novel we all love!

Please vote, comment and share this story around - I can't insist upon how much this makes a difference to authors everywhere. This story passed 5,000 reads a few days ago and that number baffles me. We've nearly reached 15,000 reads for The Tipping Of The Scales as well. The fact so many people have read, reread or even tried my writing means so much to me as a person.

If you go on my profile, I wrote a really feelsy post addressed to you all but I won't waste your time by posting it here.

Much Love, see you soon:

Caitlin <3