I charged at Seraphina, if one could even call it that. My footing was off, my arms too tense, and I was leading with my shoulder like some brainless ox. She didn't even bother to dodge. She simply stepped aside, grabbed my wrist with terrifying precision, and used my own momentum to send me flying.
The world spun, and a heartbeat later, my back slammed against the training hall floor with a heavy thud. The impact knocked the breath from my lungs. I lay there for a moment, blinking up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. My thoughts echoed like footsteps in an empty corridor: gods above, I hate this.
Seraphina dusted off her gloves with a soft clap and said, "That's enough for today."
I didn't argue. I just mumbled something in the vague realm of agreement and rolled onto my side. Every muscle in my body ached. I wasn't sure if it was the good kind of ache people talked about when training—or the kind that meant I was going to wake up tomorrow unable to move my arms. Probably both.
I sat up slowly, dragging myself over to lean against the cool stone wall. It felt blessedly solid. There was a dent in it, a shallow crater the size of a dinner plate. I stared at it for a moment, remembering how it had gotten there.
That had been day two of training. Seraphina had told me to stop flinching. I'd asked how, exactly, one was supposed to not flinch when a punch like that was barreling toward their face. She hadn't answered. Instead, she'd punched the wall right next to my head, narrowly missing my temple by a hair's breadth. The wall had cracked. I had nearly wet myself.
"You didn't flinch the first time," she'd said, "but I suppose you were just too dazed to realize what was happening."
She might've meant it as a compliment. I still wasn't sure. But I'd swallowed my scream then, and I swallowed it now, biting my tongue as she tossed me a towel.
I caught it on reflex, wiping the sweat from my neck and brow. I must've looked like a drowned rat. Seraphina, meanwhile, hadn't even broken a proper sweat. She folded her arms, studying me like she was debating whether I'd improved or simply avoided dying.
"You're still far from competent," she said, her voice matter-of-fact. "But your stance is less wretched, and your strikes are no longer a danger to yourself."
I think that was her version of encouragement.
She stepped over and offered a hand. I took it, and with the same ease one might lift a broom, she hauled me to my feet. I wobbled, nearly falling forward again, but she steadied me with a single hand on my shoulder.
"Rest. Stay indoors for now." Her tone darkened slightly. "Another man was killed last night. A city guard. Right inside the walls."
I blinked. "Inside?"
She nodded once. "Near the upper quarter, two bells after dusk. Patrols have doubled since, but there's unrest everywhere. The nobles are whispering, the common folk are anxious. Don't go wandering off. The palace is safer, for now."
I exhaled slowly. So much for fresh air or a walk around the garden. If even the guards weren't safe anymore...
Seraphina turned away, already loosening her gloves. The lesson was over, and with it, the illusion of normalcy faded too.
I wiped the last of the sweat from my chin and stared down at my hands. Less clumsy, she'd said. That was something, I supposed. Not much. But something.
As soon as I stepped out into the hallway, I nearly walked face-first into someone.
"Boo," came the familiar, sing-song whisper.
I flinched back. Lilith stood there—or rather, a hazy outline of her stood there. Her form shimmered slightly at the edges, like heat rising off stone. Most of her was cloaked in some illusion, but the shape of her grin came through clear as ever.
"Don't do that," I muttered, heart still racing.
Lilith only giggled, her fingers curling around my arm as she leaned in far too close for comfort. "You're improving," she said, voice light and teasing. "I watched. Well… not all of it. But enough. You're a bit less like a flailing fish now."
"Thanks," I said flatly.
I didn't have the strength to argue with her. My body still ached from being tossed like a sack of potatoes, and Lilith's words slid over me like wind. I tried to keep walking, but she clung tighter to my arm.
"I've got something to show you," she said, eyes gleaming through the veil of her spell.
"Can it wait?" I asked. "My legs barely work."
"Nope!" she chirped, tugging me along.
I should've resisted. I knew better. But my limbs weren't exactly cooperative right now, and fighting her was like trying to argue with a rainstorm. Before I knew it, she had led me down a side corridor, away from the main halls, past closed doors and quiet corners until we reached one of the lesser-used wings of the palace. No guards. No servants. Just dusty floors and the hum of silence.
Lilith turned to me at last. With a lazy flick of her hand, the illusion around her vanished like mist.
There she was in full—pale skin, twin tails swaying, frilly dress far too attention-grabbing for someone who claimed to want to stay hidden. I still didn't understand how she managed to sneak around dressed like that.
She didn't speak at first. Just tilted her head, watching me with those strange, glimmering eyes. Then she stepped closer and took my hand.
I blinked down as she pressed something cold and glassy into my palm. A small vial. Murky, greenish liquid swirled inside, catching the light.
"Drink this," she said. "It'll help us sneak in."
I stared at it. "Sneak in… where?"
"You'll see."
I didn't like the sound of that. I was already shaking my head. "No. I'm not doing that. Not today."
Lilith pouted. "But it's safe. Mostly. And fun!"
"No," I said again, more firmly. "Do you not remember the murder? The patrols? If we're caught creeping around with strange potions, they'll throw us in the dungeons or worse."
She shrugged, unbothered. "That's why we're being careful. No one saw us come here. I made sure."
I glanced back down at the vial. It looked innocent enough, but I'd learned not to trust anything Lilith handed me. For a city this tightly guarded, a murder happening within the walls was no small thing. Even the poorer districts rarely saw bloodshed of that kind, not unless there was a riot or a food shortage—and there had been neither.
Lilith let out a soft chuckle and waved a hand, still holding mine with the other.
"We won't be caught," she whispered, sounding far too confident for someone dragging me into trouble. "Besides, this potion… well, let's just say it's very special. Makes us invisible. Not just to the eyes. To sound. To scent. No one will know."
I barely had time to form a protest before she uncorked her own vial and tossed it back with a graceful tilt of her head. Not even a flinch. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked at me expectantly.
"Well?" she said, "Your turn."
I hesitated. Everything about this screamed bad idea. But I was already this far, and something in Lilith's eyes told me she wasn't going to let me go back to my room for a nice, quiet sulk. I sighed.
"To the abyss with it," I muttered, and lifted the vial to my lips.
The potion was thankfully tasteless, like thick water with just a hint of metal. I swallowed it down in one go, cringing out of habit more than anything else. Almost immediately, I felt it working—my fingers blurred at the edges, then faded altogether. Soon my hands were gone, and my arms followed. I looked down and saw nothing but the faint shimmer of air. Lilith had already vanished completely.
A second later, her invisible hand found mine again.
"Don't want to lose you," she whispered, voice almost right in my ear.
Then we moved.
Lilith led the way, careful and light-footed. I did my best to keep up, even if every part of my body still ached from training. We slipped past patrols, weaving between the armored boots of guards who never even twitched in our direction. It was strange, walking like a ghost through the palace halls—hearing our steps make no sound, watching doors open without hands, feeling air that didn't seem to notice us. I didn't like it. Not one bit.
Eventually, we reached a part of the palace I hadn't seen in weeks. The stone walls were colder here, the floors clean but worn. A heavy, metal door loomed at the end of the corridor, with two guards standing stiffly beside it. Torches flickered along the walls, casting long shadows across their polished armor.
I remembered this place, barely. Back when Seraphina showed me around the palace after we first arrived—this was one of the doors we didn't go through. Lilith stopped in front of it, still holding my hand.
She leaned in to whisper something, and her forehead smacked straight into my jaw.
"Ghh—!"
The sound escaped before I could swallow it down. One of the guards stirred, turning his head with a sharp glance.
"What was that?"
The other didn't even flinch. "Didn't hear anything."
The first one frowned and looked around again, squinting into the air before returning to his post with a muttered grumble.
Meanwhile, I was busy rubbing my jaw with my free hand—well, at least I think I was. Hard to tell when I couldn't see it.
"Sorry," Lilith whispered. I could feel her breath now as she fumbled around my head. Her fingers brushed past my nose, nearly jabbed my eye, and finally settled just behind my ear.
"There we go," she said, far too cheerful for someone who nearly blinded me. "This is the entrance to the Dungeon."
The word landed heavily.
"The… Dungeon?" I repeated, though my voice was little more than a breath.
Lilith nodded. "The real one. Not a few cages and cells. I mean the old place. The deep one. Built long before the palace."
I blinked. Then I remembered.
Seraphina had mentioned it once, in passing. "Old foundations beneath the palace," she'd said. "Nothing you need to concern yourself with."
And no one had spoken of it since.
I swallowed hard. Suddenly I wasn't sure I wanted to keep following Lilith.
And then—nothing.
Lilith's hand let go of mine, and her presence vanished as if she'd slipped away like smoke. I turned my head, suddenly cold without the quiet weight of her near me. Then, from just around the corner, I heard the sharp crash of pottery.
A vase, maybe. Something ceramic.
The sound snapped both guards to attention.
"What was that?"
One of them stepped away from the door, hand on his sword, vanishing out of sight around the bend. For a moment, there was silence. Then came a startled yelp, followed by a dull thud that echoed too loudly in the narrow stone hall.
The remaining guard stiffened. "Sarnin?" he called out, voice low but tense. "You alright?"
No answer.
He cursed under his breath and took off after his partner.
That's when I felt it—something tugging hard at the back of my sleeve.
Lilith.
Before I could make a sound, she dragged me forward like a child pulling a stubborn goat. She produced something—maybe from a sleeve or pocket, I couldn't tell—and worked the lock with a sharp click. The door then creaked open just wide enough for her to slip through.
She darted inside, still invisible, and I glanced back one last time, heart pounding. No shouting. No footsteps. Just the flickering torches and an empty hall. I slid inside after her and eased the door shut behind me with a soft groan of hinges and a click of the lock.
The air was different down here—still and dry, like nothing had moved for a long time. The walls were stone, shaped and cut long ago. Torches lined the walls in iron brackets, their flames steady, casting strange shadows down the spiral staircase ahead. It smelled of cold metal and old dust.
I looked down at my hands and watched them flicker. One second I saw skin—dirt under the fingernails, a scrape from earlier training. Then they blurred again, like heat haze. Then solid. Still.
Lilith stepped into view at the edge of the light, her outline slowly taking shape until she was fully visible again, standing at the first step of the staircase with that same crooked smile, as if we hadn't just broken into a forbidden part of the palace.
"Well," she said, adjusting her ribbon with a small hum, "this is where it gets interesting."
I stared at her, words caught in my throat.
We moved quietly, the sound of our steps swallowed by the stone. I didn't know if it was the spell still clinging to our skin or just the dread in my chest, but I found myself whispering even now, long after we'd passed the last guards.
"What did you do to the guard?" I asked, my voice barely a breath.
Lilith snickered beside me, not even trying to sound apologetic. "Oh, that?" she said, far too cheerfully. "I just tripped him. Poor thing came over to check the vase and went straight to the floor. It was the perfect chance to borrow his keys~.
"Borrow?" I muttered, then gave her a light swat to the head.
She let out a dramatic little yelp and rubbed the spot with both hands, pouting at me like I'd kicked her. "I was helping!" she said, then smiled again. "Don't worry. We'll be just fine!"
I didn't believe her, but we'd come too far for second thoughts now.
The staircase opened up into a narrow hall, with rows of cells to either side, each one dark and empty. No sound except the faint flicker of torchlight. The air was thick, like it hadn't been breathed in years. Dust drifted like ash.
We crept further in. Doors waited at the end of the hall—one to the left, one to the right, and one straight ahead. Everything else beyond that was a tangle of corridors and sharp turns. It didn't take long to get lost.
Only once did we pass signs of life—a few prisoners behind thick bars, slumped in silence. We ducked into a side path before they could notice us, pressing our backs to the cold wall. Lilith was grinning the whole time.
Eventually, we came to a stop before a door that looked more like a barricade. Heavy chains crisscrossed it from top to bottom, nailed in and reinforced with boards. Strange carvings pulsed faintly on the surface—runes, like the ones I'd seen on sealing talismans in the chapel. Even standing several steps away, I could feel something foul leaking from the room beyond. Cold, sharp, and ancient.
Lilith stared at the door like it was a stubborn jar.
I opened my mouth, halfway through whispering, "Maybe we should turn back—"
She raised her hands and gave a swift motion downward with her palms.
The chains snapped in half with a sound like dry bones breaking. The boards cracked and split. The entire door groaned and buckled before it slammed to the ground in a cloud of dust.
I jumped, heart hammering so hard I thought it might burst through my ribs. I turned to her, stunned.
"What was that?" I asked, breath caught in my throat.
She didn't answer. Just gave me a wink and stepped inside like she'd just opened a pantry.
I hesitated—then followed, because I didn't want to be alone out here either.
The room beyond was small, lined with runes that shimmered faintly along the walls, reacting to our presence. It smelled of metal and something darker—something wrong. My eyes adjusted slowly to the dim, lit only by a single torch bracketed to the far wall.
And that's when I saw him.
At the back of the room, sitting cross-legged on the stone floor, was a man. Or something close to one.
His skin was pale as bone, marked from shoulders to ankles with strange tattoos that crawled like vines across his chest. He wore only a pair of worn, loose pants tied with a rope, and his hair hung in greasy strands over his face. There were no chains on him—but the glowing wards circling his limbs and the floor beneath him made chains seem like toys.
But that wasn't what made my breath catch.
It was the horns.
Two curved, blackened horns rose from his head, curling back slightly. And just behind him, swaying faintly like a cat's, was a long, spade-shaped tail.
Just like Lilith's.
I took a step back, instinctively reaching for the door—but Lilith just stood there, smiling like she'd found a long-lost toy.
And then the man looked up, eyes glowing pale white.
What was he?