"You dare step into the forest of Ereb'Dar?" the voice rasped, ancient and hungry.
Vashti's chest tightened. Her body felt as heavy as stone, her lungs strangled by invisible weight. Still, she forced the words out. "I seek vengeance."
"No," Morvakar growled. "You seek resurrection. Resurrection demands sacrifice."
"I will sacrifice anything," Vashti said, her voice quivering yet her eyes ablaze. "I will fight. I will give all I am."
"Then survive me first."
The weight lifted. Her body snapped free as Morvakar lunged. She hurled herself into the mud, narrowly avoiding his claws. She grabbed a stone and threw it, but it passed through his smoky form as if swallowed by night.
"You cannot combat death with fear," Morvakar hissed.
"I fight for love, for my kingdom!" Vashti cried, rising, fire blazing in her eyes.
The monster paused. Slowly, its hands lowered. "War is coming to my people..." she said, knees sinking into the earth. "All I ask is enough power to stop them, enough to never lose."
Morvakar's smoke-filled eyes burned like coals. His arms fell, and his form dissolved into shadow. "Survive, Vashti. The path ahead shows no mercy."
The forest fell silent.
Vashti rose on trembling legs, her gown soaked in mud. Her body shook, but her steps remained determined as she moved forward.
******
She emerged from the trees into a place so dreadful it seemed to steal her breath. A vast cave yawned before her, its mouth carved like a serpent's head.
A whirlwind swirled at its entrance, forming the figure of a woman with hair of smoke, long talons, and a beauty both terrible and divine.
"You still have time to turn back," the woman said, her voice rolling like thunder through ancient tombs.
"Who are you?" Vashti demanded.
"I am Ashkaroth, Keeper of the Forbidden Gate."
"I have fasted seven days to stand here. I will not retreat."
"Inside lies only death, and its cost is sacrifice. You would not wish to know it."
"I will embrace it," Vashti declared, unwavering.
Thunder cracked. Ashkaroth vanished in a flash of lightning.
Vashti stepped forward. The cave yawned wider, groaning as it opened. Startled, she stumbled but quickly regained her footing. Darkness swallowed her, and the mouth slammed shut behind her.
Green fire ignited along the walls, illuminating carvings of beasts and the damned. At the center stood an altar, atop which rested an upright coffin.
Vashti knelt. The coffin groaned open, spilling black smoke. Statues around her began to chant:
"Lord of Shadows. Ruler of the Void. Master of the Darkness Before Light. He who commands the deep gloom… Ereb'Dar."
Vashti lifted her head, voice ringing clear. "I call upon the Hollow One." Immediately, the chamber was drowned in darkness, and a godlike voice thundered.
"Arise."
Before her, a pit of swirling shadow opened. From it rose a chained figure, neither fully male nor female, wrapped in mist. Its presence chilled her to the bone.
"Vashti," it spoke. "Why have you come?"
"For vengeance. For power, great Ereb'Dar."
"It will demand an offering."
"I will do as you command," she answered, voice steady.
Ereb'Dar drew in a breath that echoed like a storm howling through a tomb.
"How long has the child been growing within you?" the voice thundered.
Vashti froze, her eyes widening in shock. "Sixteen weeks."
"That is your offering," Ereb'Dar pronounced, his tone colder than stone.
"No!" Vashti stumbled back, clutching her stomach with trembling hands.
"This is not a plea," the god's voice rumbled. "It is the toll demanded."
Tears streaked down her face as she glared into the shifting darkness where Ereb'Dar loomed. "This is all I have left of Ethan!"
"Then it is all the more fitting you surrender it within my temple," the deity replied.
An unseen force coiled around her body. Vashti shrieked, thrashing against the invisible grip.
"No!" she cried, her voice raw with terror.
Blood coursed down her legs. Her body writhed in torment. A glacial wind swept through the cavern, tearing at her gown as the air grew sharp with the scent of death.
Agony wracked her, and with merciless slowness the child was forced from her womb. Vashti's scream ripped through the chamber, jagged, heart-shattering, as her son was brought into the world.
Her sight blurred with tears.
The cord snapped, severed by unseen power, and the newborn was lifted by invisible hands, drifting through the air toward the waiting coffin. Through her tear-blurred vision, she barely glimpsed the infant before the lid slammed shut with finality.
"Unstoppable you are now," Ereb'Dar intoned, his voice rising like the roar of a lion. "Only one who carries my might shall overcome you."
The unseen grip vanished, and Vashti crumpled to the floor. Her sobs dwindled into silence as her body grew still.
✦IN VANILOR✦
Victor stepped into the vast hall just moments after Torin had departed, the heavy door thudding shut behind him and sealing the room in complete silence. Outside, no sound could pierce the enchanted barrier. It was as if the hall itself had swallowed the world beyond; only those with the power to eavesdrop could hear sounds made from it.
The hall stretched wide, dimly lit by flickering sconces that cast long, trembling shadows along the walls. At its center stood a grand piano, its polished surface catching the torchlight like dark water. Beside it, a lone seat waited. Farther along the wall, a door loomed, carved with the form of a mythical creature, a gryphon with eyes that seemed almost alive. Its wings were folded yet poised, guarding the entrance with a vigilant stare.
To Victor's right rested a lectern of stone, its surface etched with intricate runes and symbols, worn smooth by age. A tablet of obsidian lay upon it, black and reflective, catching the candlelight as he approached; his eyes traced the markings, and a low murmur escaped his lips. "A riddle," he whispered, his gaze sweeping the hall before settling on the tablet as he began to read.
"I speak without words, yet I can move hearts and minds. I can be soft or loud, fast or slow. Though I am touched, I am not something you can hold. What am I?"
Victor's eyes widened, his pupils dilating as the realization struck him. He leaned forward slightly, lips parting with a tremor. "Play," he said, voice barely above a whisper yet filled with awe.
"I follow all, yet I am never first. I remain when everything else fades, enduring beyond the fleeting moment. What am I?"
He paused, breath catching. His chest rose and fell as he spoke the answer softly, almost as if confessing it to himself. "Last."
"I can greet, I can seal, I can wound or heal. Silent I am, yet felt more deeply than words. A meeting of warmth between souls. What am I?"
His lips moved again, this time with a shiver of reverent awe. "Kiss," he murmured, letting the word hang in the air as if tasting it for the first time.
And then it hit him. The riddles were not simply puzzles. They were a command, carved into magic itself: Play the melody titled Last Kiss, the piano ballad his father, Torin, had always loved. Victor had played it for him countless times since childhood.
Victor's chest tightened, a surge of emotion making his limbs tremble as he approached the piano. The bench seemed to wait, inviting him as if it had been anticipating this moment for years. He seated himself and let his fingers hover above the keys, savoring the silence before he pressed down gently. With his eyes closed, he let the music flow.
The hall filled with the melody, fragile and aching at first, then swelling with the passion of memory, the laughter of his family echoing in each chord. Every note carried the weight of love, loss, and longing, finally settling into a tender, lingering resolution.
Far away, in a hidden prison, Lilith stirred. Her body remained confined, yet a fragment of her essence drifted beyond the walls, untethered and watching. As Victor played, her eyes shifted, liquid violet and gold spiraling across her irises, a pulse of awareness threading through the colors.
Her hands pressed against the cold stone floor as she rooted herself, extending her sight along invisible trails that stretched across shadowed lands. The essence of the melody guided her gaze, locking onto Torin as he approached the gates of Ashvale.
And then, as Victor's final notes lingered and faded, the fragment of her power slipped back into her body. Her eyes gradually returned to their natural hue, the swirling colors dissolving like morning mist, leaving only the human Lilith within the cell.
Victor's eyes fluttered open, catching the faint shimmer of the obsidian tablet. The gryphon's sculpted gaze flickered once in recognition, and the chamber seemed to grow denser, alive with the lingering echo of his father's treasured melody.
The gryphon's eyes glowed, and the heavy doors before him creaked apart. He froze, startled, then slowly stepped forward. The threshold swallowed him as he crossed into the passage beyond.
Inside, the air was colder, filled with the faint scent of dust. Torches burned with a low, unnatural flame, casting shifting shadows that danced along the walls. At the heart of the chamber stood a towering sculpture, its form both majestic and foreboding. In its arms, the figure cradled a small book, no more than ten pages bound together in ancient binding.