The manor didn't sleep.
Servants ghosted through its corridors with hushed voices and lanterns, tending to halls that never needed tending. Shadows clung to the rafters like living things, waiting for someone to notice them. Vale House was built for power and fear—neither of which allowed peace.
Elma moved through the silence like a ghost herself, the fragment heavy in her hand. It was warm, faintly pulsing like a heartbeat that didn't belong to her. Calista walked beside her, her expression composed but her eyes flicking to every corner. Even the walls felt like they were listening.
They didn't speak until they reached the vault.
Calista placed her palm against the sigil-locked door. The air shivered as the spell recognized her. The door opened with a sigh, revealing the cool, dim-lit chamber lined with shelves of artifacts—treasures and horrors Nitron had collected over the years.
Elma stepped inside. "I hate this place," she muttered.
Calista followed, her robe whispering against the stone floor. "You hate every place he's touched."
"True," Elma said, crouching to set the fragment on its pedestal. The moment her fingers left it, the glow dimmed, as if sulking.
They stared at it in silence.
The sigils on its surface had rearranged themselves into the crest that appeared earlier. Elma didn't recognize it, but it radiated weight—the kind of mark that didn't belong to a single house or even an empire. It was older. Hungrier.
Calista crossed her arms. "You think he knows we have it?"
Elma shook her head. "If he did, we'd already be bleeding on the floor."
"That's… comforting," Calista said dryly.
Elma glanced at her, smirking despite herself. "You're cute when you're sarcastic."
Calista's gaze softened briefly, but her posture stayed sharp. "You're reckless when you're scared."
Elma chuckled under her breath. "Fair."
She turned back to the fragment. Its glow was faint, but the hum was constant—a soft, vibrating thrum in her chest, like it was syncing with her pulse.
"It said I can't free myself," Elma murmured.
Calista's arms tightened around herself. "I heard."
They exchanged a glance that held more than words. Elma had been chained so long she barely remembered freedom. For the shard to recognize it—to name it—felt like someone pressing a finger against an old wound.
"Do you trust it?" Calista asked quietly.
"No," Elma said. "But I don't trust him either."
Calista moved closer, lowering her voice. "Then maybe this is leverage."
Elma's smirk returned, sharper this time. "That's why I like you."
For a heartbeat, Calista let herself smile back. Then the sound of boots echoed down the hall.
They froze.
Elma grabbed the fragment, tucking it back into her sleeve. The vault door hadn't closed yet, and the glow of lanterns flickered against the stone just outside.
"Hide," Calista whispered.
They slipped into the farthest corner, cloaked in shadow. The door creaked wider, and Kade stepped inside. His silver eyes glimmered under the lantern light as he surveyed the vault.
Elma's breath slowed to silence. Calista's hand found her wrist, squeezing lightly.
Kade moved with the calm precision of someone who knew he was being watched. He inspected a few artifacts, touched nothing, then turned his head slightly—as if he could feel their presence in the dark.
Elma's muscles tensed, ready to strike.
But he didn't look at them. Instead, his gaze landed on an empty pedestal—the one where the first shard had been displayed before they'd hidden it elsewhere. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly.
He murmured something under his breath. The air shimmered faintly as he cast a small detection spell.
The fragment in Elma's sleeve pulsed once. Calista's fingers dug into her arm.
Then Kade turned and left, the door sighing shut behind him.
They didn't move for several seconds.
"Close call," Elma whispered finally.
Calista's voice was tight. "Too close."
They stepped out of the shadows, both of them tense. Elma replaced the fragment on its pedestal and sealed it with a simple ward, nothing flashy—just enough to make it look like it had always been there.
Calista turned to her, eyes sharp. "We can't keep it here. Not anymore."
"Agreed," Elma said. "If Kade's sniffing around, it's only a matter of time before Nitron knows."
They stared at the shard. Its sigils shifted again, faintly glowing gold.
Elma exhaled. "It wants us to move it."
Calista gave her a skeptical look. "Since when do we take orders from cursed objects?"
"Since it's smarter than both of us," Elma said dryly.
Despite herself, Calista smiled faintly. "That's not hard."
Elma shot her a look, but it was fond.
They left the vault, locking it behind them, but neither of them felt safe.
Back in her chambers, Elma laid the shard on the table. The glow painted the walls in faint, shifting patterns. She traced a finger along the sigils, feeling the faint hum through her bones.
Calista stood at the window, arms folded, looking out over the gardens. Her posture was tense, like she was waiting for something to break.
"Do you ever think about what happens if we lose?" Calista asked softly.
Elma glanced at her. "No."
Calista turned, her eyes dark. "You should."
Elma leaned back in her chair, smirking. "Then I'd never sleep. And I already don't sleep enough."
Calista walked closer, stopping just out of reach. "You make jokes, but… if he finds out what we're doing—"
"He will," Elma said bluntly. "It's just a matter of timing."
Calista flinched slightly.
"That's why we need this," Elma continued, gesturing to the shard. "If we're going to survive him, we have to get ahead of him."
Calista's gaze softened, but her jaw stayed tight. "And if it's a trap?"
Elma smiled faintly. "Then it's a trap we'll spring together."
For a long moment, neither of them moved. The only sound was the shard's hum, faint and steady.
Calista finally exhaled, lowering herself into the chair opposite Elma. She rested her elbows on the table, leaning closer. "You really think we can win this."
"I know we can," Elma said simply. "Because I refuse to die chained."
Something in Calista's expression cracked. She reached across the table, fingers brushing Elma's hand.
The leash burned, a sharp sting, but neither of them pulled back.
"Then let's make him bleed first," Calista whispered.
Elma's smirk turned sharp. "Now you're talking my language."
The shard pulsed once more, brighter than before.
And for the first time, Elma thought she saw a symbol hidden beneath the glowing crest—a faint outline of a key.
[Quest Updated: Crest of the Forgotten]
New Clue: The Key Lies in Shadow.
That night, Elma couldn't sleep. Not because of fear, but because for the first time, she felt like the chain around her throat wasn't the only one tightening. Something older was watching.
And it wasn't on Nitron's side.