He didn't speak.
I didn't know where we were going, but his footsteps made the ground sound worried.
Lucien walked ahead. Not by him knowing where his leadership led to but by simply the fact that he has no choice. The only choice was to move forward.
And by that 'only choice' Mira and Charlotte followed him behind. Mira held me close, her hand patting my back in slow rhythms. I liked that. It told me we were still okay, even when her breath told me she wasn't.
Charlotte followed, quiet as ever. The only sounds were our steps and Mira's heartbeat, loud against my ear.
Then we stopped.
A door stood before us. I didn't like it. Mira's hand froze on my back, and I heard her breath catch.
But one thing for sure is we have to go through that door.
Lucien moved to step forward, but she caught his arm.
Her voice shook. "How certain are you that it's safe for Caelum to go through that door?"
The cold eyes of Lucien met the teary eyes of his beloved.
Lucien looked at her. His face didn't change, but something in him cracked.
"We have no choice," he said. "Please understand."
Mira's voice rose, sharp at that, like she was holding something in. "Oh I do understand. That the father of my child is walking into something dark, without even trying to make it safe."
Her words hit him. I could tell by the way his shoulders sank, he was clearly hurt.
Mira continued "Exactly the issue. You have no idea what you're doing. You're... you're-"
Lucien stepped close to her and suddenly put his hands on Mira's shoulder, his face close to hers, Mira, clearly flustered by the sudden physical contact was trying to regain her composure by glaring hard, fighting to stay angry.
The silence stretched. Awkward. Dense.
He didn't say anything.
Silence grew between them, thick and strange. Even Mira's heartbeat changed.
She broke it. "What do you think you're doing?"
But Lucien just looked at her.
And for a moment, no one moved.
Then, barely above a whisper, Lucien spoke. "Please."
Mira blinked. "What do you mean?"
Lucien spoke again, a voice lower than before. Even then, I could hear it breaking. "My-" he was about to call her something but changed his mind. "Mira… this is our only option. We don't have clues, I know. I don't know where this path leads, I know that too. But after agreeing on how lost we are… what then? Do we stand still? Do nothing?"
He exhaled. "There are risks. God, I know there are. But if all we can do is move forward, then that's what we do. That's our hope. I know I haven't convinced you. But please… just listen."
Mira didn't answer. She just stared at him.
"Just trust me," he said.
Silence.
Mira raised the hand that had been holding me, and calmly removed his hands from her shoulders , one after the other, never breaking eye contact.
"I understand," she said. "We move, then."
She stepped beside him and leaned in, just enough that only he could hear her.
"But don't ever talk to me about trust again. Not when you couldn't trust me with something as important as our son's safety."
Lucien didn't move, but his posture changed. Just slightly. Just enough.
Mira turned, her voice colder now. "Lead the way."
Lucien took the lead again, his steps quieter now.
The door didn't creak when it opened. It sighed. Like it had been waiting a long time for someone to walk through.
There was no sound.
Light poured through, not bright, not warm, just… present. Enough to show us the path. Enough to hide everything else.
Lucien walked in first.
Then Charlotte.
Mira followed, holding me close. I felt her grip tighten as we crossed the threshold.
The moment we passed through the door, I felt it.
Weight
The door slammed shut behind us.
We stood at the edge of something that looked like a forgotten council chamber.
It wasn't what I expected. It wasn't anything I expected.
It has a circular form lost in shadow and ruin. The ceiling is broken, half-collapsed, and what remains of it stares down like a fractured crown. The grand stone table at the center is surrounded by empty chairs, their backs tall and imposing. Dust hangs in the air with the weight of unspoken histories.
Ancient portraits hang on the wall. Faces from forgotten bloodlines or the Redthorns, eyes that seem to pierce the air. Some are unscathed, staring boldly into the void. Others are slashed, as though the past itself couldn't bear their looks and tore them apart.
Lucien moved ahead, his footsteps carrying a certain heavy weight on the stone. His gaze is fixed, tracing the scrolls scattered across the table. Old and brittle things, like they might crumble into ash if touched too roughly. But he didn't hesitate. He ran his fingers along the ancient text, reading words that seemed like it was written in blood and fire. His brow furrows as the ink seems to reveal more than it should.
"The blood of the faithful binds us to the dark..." he said, as he was reading.
He scans the words, murmuring to himself. A curse. A pact. A price paid in blood, just like every promise that had ever been made in this place.
I stared at him, watching him. The air here is suffocating, thick with the weight of ancient decisions.
A voice shot up, "They built a tomb, not a legacy." It was Charlotte
Lucien didn't reply. His focus remains on the scrolls, the names, the sigils. I can almost hear him thinking, calculating. The silence between us stretched.
And then Mira breaks it.
Her voice quiet, almost casual even. Gazing at a portrait of a man and woman holding a child, she said, "It's funny, isn't it? How love stories always seem to end in lack of trust."
She stepped closer to the wall, tracing the outline of the child's face in the painting. It's barely visible now, faded with age, but she lingers on it like she can still see something.
She continued, almost to herself, "This reminds me of a story. Once, they were happy. Thought that love would keep them together, make them stronger. But the moment something mattered, something that could break them... He hid it. He hid it from her. From everyone."
Her voice changed. The softness is gone now. It's biting, accusing.
"And she? She didn't get to choose. She didn't even know she was walking into it. She was just... left in the dark. While he held the truth. While he held her fate."
I glanced towards Lucien. Lucien didn't move. Didn't speak. He's stood still, staring at the scrolls, but his hands are clenched now, his jaw tight.
Turning her back on him, she continued in a low voice, but still loud enough for him to hear.
"It's always the same, isn't it? When it's too late, they wonder why you didn't trust them"
I felt the tension building. Mira's words were more than just words. They're a weapon, cutting deeper than she lets on. Lucien's face is unreadable, but I could see the way his hands tighten around the scrolls. His silence says everything.
Charlotte shifted beside me, her gaze resting on a faded inscription on the wall. She speaks softly. "Sacrifice... redemption... They knew this would end in blood. But they still thought they could control it."
I try to focus. But then, the system...
[System Notification: The final ritual nears. The relic binds the covenant. Prepare the sacrifice]
I barely had time to process it before the relic in Charlotte's hand suddenly jerks.
The chamber shook. The walls groan, and something in the air seems to snap. The portraits, those ancient faces, start to weep. Black, oily tears slide down their painted cheeks, dripping onto the floor in dark pools. The stone trembles beneath our feet, and the room darkens with each passing second.
The relic shudders violently in Charlotte's grasp. The shadows grow, creeping along the walls, pulling the light away.
Lucien said coldly, "We don't have much time."
Mira looked at him, her expression was unreadable. And she said nothing, but I could see the fire still burning behind her eyes.
And then—
The ground beneath us trembled, and a deafening rumble shook the chamber to its core.
I could feel the walls closing in. The air pressed down on me like a weight I couldn't escape. It felt like a dark power that has lain dormant for centuries is waking.
And I don't know if we're ready.