Willow's Arc

Chapter 12 of 12

Stryker walked to the cypress shrine at noon. The chains were still there, locked around nothing. The crystal sat on the altar where Willow had placed it, glowing faint in the dim light beneath the floor. He climbed down into the chamber and stared at the trap mechanism. The elders had built it to lock anyone inside once the crystal was placed. Willow knew that when she triggered it. She'd sealed herself in with them, knowing the beast would break free while they all stayed trapped. Stryker picked up a rusted staff one of the elders had dropped. He wedged it into the trap's gears until metal bent and the mechanism groaned. It wouldn't lock again. The shrine was broken, same as the cult. Back at the surface, Stryker planted two poles near the entrance and wrapped them with swamp grass. He carved small figures from cypress wood and hung them where anyone approaching would see. Four figures, not three. The cultists would know what it meant—this place was watched now. He walked to the stone memorial in the village square and found fresh earth beside it. Someone had dug a grave there, marked with a weathered headstone already covered in moss. Willow's name was carved into it, though there was no body to bury. Stryker placed his hand on the stone. The village had given her a resting place. He would make sure the shrine stayed empty, so her sacrifice meant something.