Day 6: The Second Gift

The morning after their harrowing encounter at the gallows, Eira awoke with a knot of tension in her stomach. The memories of the previous night—the shadows, the disciples, the creaking gallows—played over and over in her mind. The air outside felt sharper, more dangerous. The curse was still spreading, and Eira knew they had only delayed the inevitable.

She sat up in bed, listening to the wind howling through the trees outside. It had grown colder overnight, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones and refused to let go. There was something unnerving about it, like the very air was alive with the witch’s power, growing stronger with each passing day.

As she made her way downstairs, her phone buzzed with a message from Lucas.

Lucas: “You okay? Can’t stop thinking about last night. We need to figure out our next move.”

Eira typed back quickly.

Eira: “I’m okay. Barely. We bought some time, but I don’t know how long we can hold off the disciples.”

Just as she was about to hit send, a knock echoed through the house. Eira froze. No one ever knocked on her door this early, and given the events of the past few days, every sound seemed like a harbinger of something worse.

Slowly, she approached the door, her heart pounding in her chest. She opened it cautiously, half-expecting to see one of the townspeople, or worse, one of the witch’s disciples.

But there was no one there. Just the cold, empty street and the sound of the wind howling through the trees.

Then, she looked down.

Sitting on her doorstep was a small, neatly wrapped package, tied with a red ribbon. It was strange—too perfect for something left on a doorstep during a storm. Eira’s heart sank as she picked it up, her fingers trembling.

There was no note attached, no indication of who had left it. But deep down, Eira knew. This was no ordinary gift.

She carried the package inside, her breath catching in her throat as she set it down on the kitchen table. The weight of it in her hands was heavier than it should have been, and the longer she looked at it, the more she felt the presence of something dark lurking beneath the surface.

With trembling hands, Eira untied the ribbon and carefully peeled back the wrapping paper.

Inside was a Christmas ornament—a small, glass angel with delicate wings and a face so finely crafted it almost looked real. But something was off. The angel’s face wasn’t serene, as one might expect. Instead, it was twisted in a look of anguish, its eyes hollow and dark.

As Eira picked up the ornament, the room grew colder, and she felt a strange pulse of energy run through her. The angel’s wings shimmered briefly in the dim light, and a faint whisper seemed to fill the air around her.

"They are coming."

Eira dropped the ornament, her heart racing. The whisper was unmistakable—it was the same voice she had heard in her dreams, the same voice that had echoed through the gallows last night.

She backed away from the table, her mind racing. This ornament was no simple Christmas decoration. It was a message. A warning.

Lucas's Arrival

Before Eira could process the significance of the ornament, there was another knock at the door. This time, she rushed to open it, relieved to find Lucas standing on her doorstep, his face pale and drawn.

“I got your message,” Lucas said, stepping inside and shaking off the cold. “What’s going on?”

Eira motioned toward the table, where the angel ornament still lay. “That was left on my doorstep this morning.”

Lucas frowned as he approached the table, his eyes narrowing at the sight of the ornament. “That’s... not normal.”

“No kidding,” Eira muttered, her pulse still racing. “It feels like it’s connected to the witch. Like a signal.”

Lucas turned the ornament over in his hand, his expression growing more serious. “It’s a warning. Evandra’s disciples are getting closer.”

Eira nodded, her throat tight. “But why an angel? What does it mean?”

Lucas set the ornament down, his brow furrowed in thought. “The angel could symbolize protection. But this one... it’s twisted. It’s like it’s warning us that any protection we think we have is useless.”

Eira shivered, her stomach twisting with unease. “Then it’s not just a message. It’s a threat.”

Lucas met her gaze, his eyes full of worry. “Whatever it is, we need to be careful. If the disciples are sending things like this, it means they’re watching us more closely than we thought.”

The Search for Answers

With the ominous ornament still looming in the back of her mind, Eira decided to focus on finding more answers. She and Lucas spent the rest of the morning poring over the town records and old documents that she had dug up in the library. If the ornament was a signal that the disciples were getting closer, they needed to act fast before Evandra’s power fully awakened.

The more Eira read, the more she realized that her family’s betrayal of Evandra had been far worse than she had initially thought. Alden hadn’t just accused Evandra of witchcraft—he had actively sought out ways to strip her of her power before the trial. He had used dark magic of his own, binding her soul to the very land of Thornwick, ensuring that her spirit would never leave.

But in doing so, Alden had unknowingly cursed the town. Evandra’s power had grown over the years, festering beneath the surface, waiting for the right moment to strike. And now, with the 25th anniversary of her death approaching, her disciples were rising, eager to exact the revenge she had promised them.

“This is worse than we thought,” Eira said, her voice trembling as she closed the old book she had been reading. “Alden didn’t just condemn her—he trapped her spirit here. The curse was born from his own dark magic.”

Lucas looked at her, his expression grim. “Then breaking the curse won’t be as simple as just stopping the disciples.”

Eira nodded, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. “We need to find where her spirit is bound. If we can release it, maybe we can weaken the disciples.”

“But where would that be?” Lucas asked, frowning. “We’ve already been to the gallows.”

Eira thought for a moment, her mind racing. The gallows had been where she was executed, but her spirit... her spirit had to be bound somewhere deeper, somewhere connected to the magic that Alden had used.

And then it hit her. “The old well,” she whispered.

Lucas’s eyes widened. “The well that dried up?”

Eira nodded, her pulse quickening. “It’s not just a source of water. It’s a gateway. Alden must have used it to bind her spirit, trapping it beneath the town.”

Lucas looked at her, a mix of fear and determination in his eyes. “Then that’s where we need to go.”

The Descent into Darkness

By the time Eira and Lucas reached the old well, the sun had dipped behind the clouds, casting the town in a shadowy gloom. The well stood in the center of the square, its stone walls weathered and cracked, the once-clear water now long gone.

Eira felt a chill crawl up her spine as she approached the well, the same sense of foreboding that had filled the cemetery now pressing down on her. She knew that this was the place where Alden had performed the binding spell, and she could feel the dark magic still lingering in the air.

With the dagger in hand, Eira knelt beside the well, her heart racing. She knew what she had to do. She had to sever the bond between Evandra’s spirit and the town, breaking the curse before the solstice.

As she raised the dagger, the wind picked up, howling through the square with a force that nearly knocked her off her feet. Shadows moved at the edges of her vision, the same dark figures she had seen at the gallows.

But Eira didn’t hesitate. She drove the dagger into the stone of the well, carving the ancient symbol of protection into its surface.

The moment the blade touched the stone, a deafening scream filled the air—Evandra’s voice, shrill and furious, echoing through the wind.

Eira’s hands shook as the ground beneath her began to tremble. The well seemed to pulse with dark energy, the shadows closing in around her and Lucas. But she didn’t stop. She couldn’t.

With one final stroke, the symbol was complete.

The scream stopped abruptly, and the air grew still.

For a moment, Eira thought they had done it. She thought they had severed the connection.

But then, in the silence, a single whisper drifted through the air.

"It’s too late."

Eira’s heart sank.

The curse wasn’t broken. The disciples weren’t defeated.

Evandra’s power was still growing, and the final reckoning was drawing closer.