Midnight descended on the Death Castle like a heavy shroud, the silence broken only by the cold wind howling against the tall concrete structures.
Victoria slipped through the double-doors, her cloak rustling softly against the floorboards. Her palms were damp, her breath coming in shallow, ragged hitches.
The lingering panic from Astraea's summons had driven out any remaining shred of caution. If Astraea ordered an immediate inspection tomorrow morning, that forged key sitting in Aefia's study—the one Victoria's own magic had placed to frame her—would become the direct link to her downfall.
She had to get it back. She had to erase the evidence before dawn.
Her eyes frantically scanned the darkened study, sweeping over the leather armchair, the stack of unread petitions, and finally landing on the mahogany desk. There, sitting carelessly near the edge of an open drawer—as if forgotten by a sick, exhausted occupant—lay the icy brass key.
Victoria's smile returned in full force as she got showered with the sense of relief. She rushed forward, her fingers trembling as she snatched the key off the wood.
The brass was freezing, biting into her skin with a cruel, familiar cold, but a sudden wave of dizzying happiness washed over her. She gripped it tightly, turning on her heel, and made a beeline for the lower stairwell.
She practically flew down the winding stone steps, her boots clicking sharply against the rock, completely ignoring the eerie skeletal decorations lining the walls—which she had set up. Down and down she went, deeper into the suffocating chill of the basement, until she slammed to a halt before the massive, iron-reinforced wooden door.
The silver-lined keyhole stared back at her in the dim light, still lightly smeared with dry, dark residue.
"Open... open, damn it!" Victoria hissed under her breath.
She jammed the frozen key into the lock with aggressive force. The brass slid inside, but when she tried to turn it, the lock didn't move. She twisted harder, her knuckles turning white, her teeth grinding in sheer frustration as she yanked, pushed, and rattled the key in the lock with frantic, reckless desperation.
Click. Grind.
Nothing. The tumblers refused to yield.
"Why won't you turn?!" she gasped, forcing her raw magic into the key hole to override it, her eyes wide with mounting terror as the realization began to set in.
Victoria's breath hitched as a sickening realization washed over her. She shoved her magic further into the keyhole, only to hit a solid, intricate barrier woven directly into the internal tumblers. A shimmering weave of razor-thin red threads sealed the lock from the inside out—Aefia's undeniable signature within the skill humming with a quiet, mocking power.
"That little rat..." Victoria spat, her voice echoing loudly from the subterranean walls.
Aefia hadn't just left the key out for her to grab—she had intentionally jammed the mechanism, turning the sub-levels into a direct dead end.
Furious, pure rage eclipsed Victoria's remaining sanity. Her noble composure shattered completely. She raised her heavy boot, rearing back to kick the massive wooden door open by force, desperate to shatter the lock before anyone noticed her presence. A few knocks couldn't do a single damage.
This one skill that the present third Aethalgard had... Was so strong, that almost nothing can break it. The threads are made with blood—and if the wielder was strong, the thread would grow stronger too.
Shit! I messed with the wrong person in the delusion of taking over the entire Realm!
Victoria thought to herself while leaning her forehead against the doors. What I thought was flawless... Wasn't truly 'flawless' to someone that young?!
What else am I supposed to do?! Her eyes started to widen as she heard a pair of footsteps approaching. Now what?
"What are you doing?"
Aefia's voice cut through the damp air terrifyingly calm.
Victoria whipped around so fast her cloak billowed out around her. Standing at the foot of the stairwell was Aefia, her hands casually folded over her chest, leaning her weight against the cold stone wall. Her skin was still pale, a few drops of cold sweat lingering beneath at her forehead from the fever. But her expression held a sharp, unbearable satisfaction.
"You..." Victoria gasped, her face twisting into pure, ugly venom. "You set me up!"
"I asked a simple question, second Aethalgard," Aefia murmured, stepping forward with deliberate slowness. "It is well past midnight. What brings you to my basement? Attempting to break down my door with a key you swore earlier today you knew nothing about?" She paused to catch her breath.
"Or... Actually more specifically... Were you the one who killed those missing Guardians?" She added while tapping her chin and looking away as if thinking.
"Shut up! You played a disgusting trick—"
"A trick?" Aefia tilted her head, a low, quiet chuckle escaping her throat despite her dry raspy voice. "I didn't force you to break into my study at midnight. I didn't force you to steal from my desk. You ran down here all on your own because you were terrified."
Aefia took another step closer, her garnet eyes gleaming with cold provocation. "Look at you, Victoria. The great 'Mother' of the Rise division, scrambling in the dark like a common thief. You really are predictable. Seraphina might have stayed quiet, but I think it is hilarious how easy it is to pull your strings."
"Don't you dare speak her name!" Victoria shrieked, the humilation and impending ruin of her reputation driving her completely mad.
"Why not?" Aefia taunted softly, her tone dripping with lethal disdain. "Is it because she was better than you? Or because deep down, you know you are just a frantic fraud clinging to power you never deserved?"
That was the final snap.
Driven beyond the brink of reason, Victoria lunged forward with a anger powering her moves. She thrusted the frozen, jagged brass key straight at Aefia's neck like a makeshift dagger.
Oh fuck! Aefia tried to sway backward, but the lingering fever dulled her reflexes just enough.
The sharp, icy metal missed her throat, instead slicing violently into her shoulder. The jagged brass hooked straight through the thick fabric of her coat, tearing into her flesh and drawing a sharp line of deep crimson blood that instantly stained her shirt.
Aefia gasped loudly, softly bending her knees while shutting her eyes as white and blue sparks flew across her eyes. She hissed as the pain was white-hot and burning into her bones.
She merely gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowing as she clamped her hand over Victoria's wrist with a crushing, unrelenting grip, holding the bloody key pinned right against her own shoulder.
"Is this how the second Aethalgard conducts her investigations?" Aefia whispered, blood pooling beneath her fingers. "By committing treason in the dark?"
Aefia didn't pull away. Despite the sharp heat radiating from the bloody tear in her shoulder, her grip on Victoria tight, locking the her completely in place. Just enough to keep her from running away.
Victoria—even with her fingers trembling against the jagged brass key—forced a sudden, hysterical laugh that echoed hollowly against the damp stone walls.
"I already knew you were going to be a profitable victim when I saw you that day." Victoria whispered, her voice cracking with wild, desperate delight as she tried to spin the narrative one last time in the dim stairwell.
"Look at us! You lured me down here! You tampered with the lower levels!
"When Astraea looks at this, he will see a rogue third Aethalgard who drove me to defend the Realm's safety! He will never side with a child over me! I am his treasured wife!"
Aefia didn't flinch. A slow, mocking smile crept onto her pale lips, her garnet eyes gleaming with quiet, absolute victory.
"You really don't get it, do you?" Aefia whispered, leaning in closer so only Victoria could hear her over the dripping stone.
"Think about it... You were the second wife. When the Guardian of Justice lost Vespera, he used every means possible to keep tr only piece of her alive. And then Seraphina died, and I came here with the same face as hers. More than you, Victoria... the first Aethalgard will side with me."
Victoria's smile wiped out instantly. Her eyebrows pulled together in complete confusion and frustruation. "What?"
"Because you were stupid enough to execute your little performance in an empty room," Aefia murmured, her tone dripping with ice. "Let me get this straight... you accused me without proof, you broke into my castle at midnight, and now you are standing here with my blood on your hands. There is a limit to commiting a crime... You, on the other hand, were so desperate to bring me down, that you forgot every single small detail that covered up your actions. Astraea doesn't care about your ancient excuses or your noble tears anymore. He cares about the order. And today... you proved to him that you are the only person breaking it all along."
Victoria's eyes widened in sheer horror as Aefia's words sank in, the realization shattering her last remaining delusion. "You played me wrong—!"
"Victoria."
A deep voice called out from the stone stairwell, heavy enough to vibrate the ancient rock walls and freeze the blood in their veins.
Victoria stopped dead in her tracks, every drop of color draining from her face until she looked like a corpse. Slowly—petrified—she turned her head upward.
Standing on the stairs above them, was Astraea. His face unreadable while his eyes were fixed dead on Victoria's hand still gripping the bloody key hooked into the Aefia's shoulder.
"Care to explain why the second Aethalgard is standing in the basement of the Death Castle at two in the morning—holding a bloody brass weapon?" Astraea's voice was low but loud. It echoed like a death threat to Victoria.
To the third Aethalgard, this was obviously a win.
She yanked the key out of Aefia's shoulder with a sickening tear, scrambling backward until her spine hit the jammed basement door. "My Sovereign! You don't understand! She provoked me! She jammed the lock with her own magic to entrap me!"
"Entrap you? How?" Astraea took a slow step down the stairs, his eyes narrowing to cold slits. "You claim you were entrapped... But how is it so that you came here first but not her, and nine hours ago, you accused her of being suspicious."
"I—I came to investigate! I heard the rumors—"
"You came to destroy evidence then," Astraea snapped, his tone cutting her off like a blade. "You broke into a fellow Aethalgard's domain in the dead of night. You stole from her study. And when caught, you drew blood."
"Oh... is that what happened?" Aefia's raspy voice drifted into the heavy air. A circus isn't complete without fire.
She was leaning casually against the stone banister, one hand pressed over her gushing shoulder as crimson blood seeped through her fingers and dripped onto her boots. She blinked with wide, innocent garnet eyes, tilting her head in faux confusion.
"Wait, really?" Aefia added, her tone dripping with dramatic, mock distress. "So she truly was into this all along? Besides... That explains Victoria's anger on me from the first day. I didn't even know... I thought I was just taking a peaceful midnight stroll while dying of a high fever. Did I force you to drive a metal hook into my shoulder too? My memory is just so foggy..."
"Shut your mouth! You deceitful little beast!" Victoria shouted, completely losing her grip on sanity.
"No, you shut up. You nearly committed murder to silence me." Aefia answered, her face devoid of any expression.
"You bitch—!"
"Mind your tongue, Victoria!" Astraea interrupted. "You are standing before two High Sovereign. Behaving like a hysterical criminal."
"She is framing me! She has been orchestrating this from the start!" She tried to explain.
Driven by pure desperation, Victoria raised her hand, holding her palm flat in the air, high above her ahead. She was either trying to knock her unconscious or slap her. But fair enough, it was a slap hard enough to draw blood.
Aefia didn't even blink. Afterall, she was aware of the exact time this occurance would happen. That was also why the rumors were let out.
As if right on cue, a hand stopped hers from descending any further. "That's enough, Mother," Erebus said softly, his voice a little raspy from the way he ran forward.
Nothing is more embarrasing then your own child finding out about your true identity. Aefia smirked to herself. If you are going to bring me down, I will bring you along with me and use you as a stepping stone to climb up again.
"Erebus?!" Victoria hissed, staggering back. "You dare raise a hand against me?!"
And if that wasn't enough...
Before she could process her son's betrayal, heavy, hurried footsteps echoed down towards the basement. Shadows multiplied along the walls as figures began pouring into the subterranean corridor—Guardians.
Remember that "we will meet again in the final round"?
A collective chorus of sharp gasps circulated through the crowd as they took in the scene.
There stood Victoria—her hair disheveled, her dress stained with ash, wielding a bloody key. Beside her stood Erebus anger drawn against her. And leaning still firmly against the wall was Aefia.
Now, Victoria was entirely exposed. All thanks to Erebus's help. When he came here, he had brought the others along with him. Because the moment Aefia entered, she had signed at him, who was in the shadows, to gather everyone and bring them down. Sending the first Aethalgard first.
Whispers rushed through the corridor like a wildfire. Victoria's breath caught, her pupils shrinking to tiny pinpricks. Her reputation, her prestige, the image of the saintly "Great Mother" she had hoped to build over centuries—it was crumbling to dust in a single, irreversible minute.
No. No, no, no! Panic eclipsed her judgment entirely, followed by an idea. If she couldn't save her name, she would destroy the evidence along with everyone in this suffocating room.
She let out a deep breath.
"Fine. If you all think the third, new Aethalgard is innocent and the victim... Let's see how well you all survive without me." She spoke! Loud and clear to everyone. Especially Aefia and Astraea.
CRACK!
Huge stone boulders snapped overhead, cascading down into the narrow corridor as the sub-levels began to cave in.
But was it truly the end?