The Secret of Spellshadow Manor 6 by Bella Forrest (motivational books for men TXT) 📗

Alex couldn’t speak. Instead, he gulped, pulling the tome from his satchel and handing it to Virgil.

“You will succeed, Alex,” Virgil said softly. “You are scared, and I don’t blame you, but you will succeed where everyone else has failed. I will be here, helping you through. You can do this. I know you do not want to, but that choice has been taken from you. Now, you must do what you have to, to save everyone else,” he continued, never breaking eye contact with Alex.

“I don’t understand why it has to be me,” whispered Alex sadly. “I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to be born this way. I didn’t ask to be a savior.” Tears pricked his eyes, his teeth gritting as he struggled to force them away.

Virgil smiled wanly. “Nobody who is a true savior asks for it, Alex. Yours is an honest sacrifice. Your fear is valid, but you must use it now to see this through,” he replied, his tone apologetic. “Shall we begin?”

“I guess we have to,” Alex whispered, his breathing coming in short, sharp bursts. He refused to break down, though all he wanted to do was shout and scream at the injustice of it all, and have it all disappear in the blink of an eye. But that was never going to happen. He would not break. His head was swimming, his heart was pounding, his vision was blurry, and there was no escaping what was to come.

Taking the cue, Virgil moved into position, opening the book to lie flat in his hands and holding it up to Alex. It was a simple movement, to place his palm flat against the page, but it felt like climbing Everest. Taking a deep breath, he lifted his hand and placed it down on the appropriate spot. Everything inside his body screamed at him to run, but he remained rooted to the ground, unwilling to give in to his fears.

The time had come.

With a sudden burst of light, the book began to glow, far brighter than it ever had before. The writing on the pages soared upward, twisting in a tornado of words, before falling into line above the mouth of the pit, spelling out the sentences he needed to speak. The glowing letters had faded, their luminescence far paler than they’d been before, but Alex could just about make them out. Whether or not he’d actually be able to open his mouth and speak them aloud remained to be seen.

Taking a shaky breath, he began to say the words that hovered before him. At first, his voice shook, barely audible to anyone but Virgil. Gradually, however, as he moved through the incantation stanza by stanza, each one disappearing as it was completed and replaced by the next, he settled into the flow of the words, the rhythm calming him. Line after line went by, his voice growing stronger with each one, until he saw only the spell, the looming pressure of his mortal existence fading away into the background.

It seemed like it was going far better than any of the previous attempts, the air crackling strangely, the atmosphere tense with anticipation. This time it really did feel different, like it might just work. Having learned his lesson the last two times, he hardly dared to think it.

Finally, the twelfth and final stanza appeared before him. He knew this part well.

“With the blood of my enemies, I close the circle of pain,” he said, the words sounding strange in his own voice.

Virgil, with a concerned smile, handed Alex the small vial of blood and watched as he lifted it to his lips, downing the disgusting, viscous liquid in one. It tasted metallic and sour, and it took everything Alex had not to gag. He swallowed it, feeling it ooze down the back of his throat. Wiping his mouth, he removed his hand from the book’s page, looking down to see that the text had been restored. Did that mean it had worked? He didn’t know. But he was still alive.

Just then, the ground shook violently, rocks tumbling from the walls of the cavern. A great roar like crashing waves erupted from the depths of the pit, battering the eardrums of everyone who heard it. Alex covered his ears, glancing at Virgil, whose eyes were wide in terror.

“What is it? Did it go wrong?” Julius shouted from his bubble-prison.

“I don’t know, Your Royal Highness,” Virgil called back. “We must wait and see!”

“Well, I’m not waiting a moment longer! I must leave this place!” snarled Julius, pressing his palms against the liquid sheen of the barrier in an attempt to shatter it with his royal powers. “Come and break this thing down at once!” he demanded, realizing he was going to need help. Virgil had made it extremely strong.

The whole cave was shaking. Alex staggered back from the edge of the pit in case he fell in again. Virgil grasped his arm, helping him.

“Did it go wrong?” Alex asked.

Virgil shook his head. “I don’t know. I really don’t know.”

No sooner had Virgil spoken than the silver mist shot up from the ground in a roaring geyser of glittering light, but this was like no mist Alex had seen before. The Great Evil had arisen, taking on the form of slender, wispy creatures with feminine faces, their misty hands reaching toward Alex. Moving through the air like liquid, they danced in his direction.

“Give us your sacrifice,” they whispered.

Soon, they stood before him, a seething mass of misty faces, their clawing hands grasping at him, sinking their misty fingers deep inside his flesh. The grip of their greedy hands was excruciatingly painful. A jolt of agony tore through his body like a thunderbolt, the pain searing again with every clawing grasp they made. It enveloped him, and the mist consumed his body until he could see nothing but silver. He could feel it tearing at his insides, though he could no longer see