TWO YEARS LATER
Two winters and two summers had passed since Ioh had sunk into the silence of the riddle's final trial. Night after night, he remained with his eyes lost among the undeciphered symbols of the book's second half. His intuition whispered that somewhere, hidden between forgotten lines and ancient signs, lay the key — the answer he needed.
Nira… she could not remain still. The woman who needed answers had gone in search of them. Ten months had passed since she set out on her journey — not alone. The scout Pales followed her, always from the shadows, always guarding her, offering protection even under the light of day.
Luc and Nicolai had grown; the twins were already four years old. Ioh still remembered the first time their fragile eyes met his, searching for the light of salvation. Now, Luc and Nicolai ran through the manor, up and down, from room to room, all the way to Dacus — curious, tireless, and with a spark in their eyes. Every time, their little hands would press against the globe, which glowed for a brief moment, sensing their presence.
— "Why does Dacus have to sleep westward?" Nicolai asked, gazing wide-eyed at the windows through which the morning light slipped in.
Nicolai hid behind Ioh as always, tugging at his cloak as if he, too, wanted to know the answer. That question shook Ioh to his core. He realized that time spared no one — and this question still had no answer. Nira had promised to return after ten months of her journey… and time had passed.
The next morning, choked by cutting winds, a swaying silhouette appeared on the path toward the manor. She was dirty, drained of strength, her gaze emptied of hope. But it was her — Nira — returning alone from her journey.
Every morning, Ioh had the habit of leaning against the doorframe and staring into the distance, his thoughts always wandering. But this time, he saw her. Their eyes met, and the woman collapsed into tears. Ioh rushed to catch her.
— "Did they hurt you?"
— "Not me… Pales. He… protected me. To the very end. They killed him, Ioh… with a cruelty…"
— "Who, Nira?"
Her gaze darkened, and in a voice heavy with pain, she said:
— "A hand from the shadows. A voice from the depths. It said… 'The Book must be silent.' I have seen things… things that should not exist."
Ioh took her to the Hall of Scouts. In the silence of that chamber, the truth was told. Nira spoke, and Ioh listened… and trembled.
Meanwhile, the twins were looking for Ioh. They couldn't find him anywhere. Feeling a secret calling, they turned toward the violet globe. Its pulsing calmed their hearts — it was a living breath.
Those two years had passed heavily over the other regions as well, bringing major changes.
In Moldova, Metropolitan Cassian of the East stirred great unrest within the Catholic Church. He summoned the 12 Seraphs of Silence to the cathedral. Unease was written across their faces.
Cassian's voice was deep and commanding:
— "The Credo Prohibitum has been missing for two years! None of you has been able to find it until now? Each of you will follow the trail of this loss. Time works against you. Whoever possesses the Book… controls the Voice."
The 12 Seraphs of Silence understood the message — they had to find the book without delay. They had to identify the thief and return the book. Selena, the old keeper of the library, had vanished without a trace. No one knew where she was now, but she had been replaced and declared missing.
In Transylvania, the civil war had ended. At the Castle of the Huns, a fierce battle had been fought between vampires who craved blood… and those who protected humans — the dhampirs. After the Great Pact, a new law was proclaimed in Transylvania, stating clearly: "No vampire shall ever taste living human blood again." For many, it was welcome news. For others… not at all. Since then, a small spark had ignited a conflict that inflicted damage on both sides.
In Western Wallachia, Adam Wolf struggled to contain the chaos that grew with each passing day. Prisoners, thieves, and outcast souls poured ever more often into the Valley of the Dead, turning it into a hotbed of lawlessness. After Sirius's escape, a legend was born in the whispers of the exiled, and its echo sparked a new wave of unrest — an incident that would shake the fragile peace of the Exile to its core.
In Eastern Wallachia, the old feudal domains, knyazates, and voivodates — once lords over vast lands — were crumbling under the weight of the times. From deep within the people's hearts, a silent yet determined unification began to take root. Voivode Zor the Black, weary of the corruption gnawing at the heart of the land, of the blood spilled in vain, and of the villainy that reigned unchecked, raised the pillar of a new hope: the Eastern Host.
On the day of the gathering, when the sky seemed frozen in place, his voice thundered over the crowd:
— "One land. One voice."
Together with the Capistrano Guild — a guild of hidden hunters who fought under the signs of a chessboard — Voivode Zor the Black set into motion a plan the likes of which Wallachia had never seen. This was no longer about swords and blood. Now, war was waged in secrecy, with sharp ideas and an intellectual cunning that could topple even the oldest strongholds.
All of this had unfolded over two years of silence and pursuit.
Two years in which Ioh had wandered among symbols and meanings buried in ancient words, chasing the unseen echo of a riddle that haunted his nights. Now, the truth was drawing near. And what Nira was about to reveal … Pales's death and her hidden tale …. would shake him to his very core.