Arrows rained down, swift and relentless, their shrill descent filling the fortress courtyard with a storm of death. Nova's Kartana blade flashed in the dim light, each strike precise as she deflected the barrage.
Sparks leapt from steel as Ren twisted his body, his twin daggers slicing through the air in desperate parries. For two long minutes, the onslaught continued—an unbroken rhythm of survival, steel against steel, breath against breath. Then, silence.
The quiet was heavier than the arrows had been. Dust hung in the air, shimmering faintly in the torchlight. Nova's chest rose and fell, her grip tight on the hilt, her eyes scanning the shadows. Ren's daggers trembled slightly in his hands, not from fear but from the strain of holding back death.
A shadow descended. From the third floor, a figure leapt, landing with practiced ease, the impact reverberating through the stone. Without hesitation, the newcomer charged. Ren met the attack head-on, his daggers clashing with the stranger's blade. Sparks danced between them, illuminating the grim set of their jaws.
"I thought I made it clear—we should never cross paths again," the figure spat, voice sharp as the edge of his weapon.
Ren's grip tightened, his eyes narrowing. "Then take me down if you can." His words were a dare, but beneath them lay something heavier—resentment, pride, and the weight of unfinished history.
Steel rang out, sharp and rhythmic, echoing through the fortress walls. Each strike was vicious, each parry desperate. Nova's voice cut through the chaos, trembling with urgency.
"Asher Kade!"
The name hung in the air, sharp as the weapons they wielded. Ren's jaw clenched, Asher's eyes burned, and for a heartbeat, the fight faltered.
"We didn't come to fight you—we need your help!" Nova's plea was raw, her voice cracking under the strain.
"You came to the wrong place!" Asher barked, his strikes intensifying, refusing to yield.
Nova gritted her teeth, frustration surging. "Asher! Ren! Be reasonable!" But they fought like wild beasts, oblivious to her plea.
"I am not the problem!" Ren shot back between blows, his daggers flashing. "If he stops attacking, so will I!"
"You dare say I'm the problem?" Asher snarled, his blade pressing harder. "You invaded my domain! If I stormed the city gates, you'd call me the intruder!"
The fight escalated, each strike heavier than the last. Ren's breath came sharp, his chest heaving. Then, with a sudden exhale, he broke the rhythm.
"I came here because someone needs your help. Not me—her." He gestured toward Cipher's motionless form, lying pale and still against the stone. "So set aside your pride for one moment—we can settle this another day!"
Asher scoffed, his blade lowering only slightly. "Wrong timing. I don't owe anyone anything!"
Desperation surged in Nova. Instinct took over. Her fingers pressed the transpirantor at random. A hologram flickered to life, flooding the room with radiant light.
Both men recoiled, momentarily stunned. The glow refracted across their weapons, turning the battlefield into something sacred, almost divine. For the first time, silence stretched between them.
"What is that?" Both men asked in unison, their voices edged with curiosity and caution.
Nova held her ground, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. "Asher, if you help Cipher, you'll find out what this thing is. So stop fighting and, for once, do something decent and noble."
Her words struck like arrows, piercing pride. Asher scowled, visibly bruised by her remark. "Ren, where did you pick up this lady with a big mouth?"
Ren hesitated, unwilling to reignite the battle. He swallowed his pride, speaking carefully. "This is Nova Valasquez. You've probably seen her in the palace or among the public figures."
Silence stretched again, heavy with unspoken thoughts. Ren seized the moment. "You understand why we need your help now?" His voice was steady, but his eyes betrayed urgency.
Asher's gaze flicked to Cipher, then back to Nova. He strode forward, kneeling beside the wounded woman. His sharp eyes locked onto the spear lodged deep in her left shoulder. He looked up, demanding answers.
Nova exhaled, her voice trembling. "We were attacked by the Winzors on our way here." A pause. "But does that really matter? What matters is that she needs help."
Asher chuckled—dry, amused, skeptical. "The problem with you ladies? No patience. The answer is always in the details." He stood abruptly, nodding toward the stairs. "Bring her up."
Ren and Nova wasted no time, carefully lifting Cipher and following him. Asher glanced over his shoulder. "Who is she, anyway?"
Ren glanced at Nova. She knew it was her turn to explain.
"Her name is Cipher. She came from the future to help fight this war against vampires."
Asher slowed, his brows knitting together. "The future?" His voice dripped with disbelief. A chuckle escaped him. "You're joking, right?"
Nova met his gaze firmly. "That's what she told us. And if you don't believe me, then explain this thing on her hand."
Silence settled once again—thick, palpable, filled with questions neither dared ask aloud. They walked in silence, the weight of their mission pressing down on them.
At last, they reached the floor where Asher resided. With a flick, Asher switched on the lights. "Put her there," he instructed, gesturing to a small, neatly made bed. Ren and Nova carefully lowered Cipher onto it. Asher eyed her with clinical precision.
"How long has she been out?"
"Thirty to forty-five minutes," Nova answered.
Asher nodded, then pointed toward the shelves lined with pan bricks. "Ren, bring me some whiskey."
---
Across the kingdom, Queen Drusilla lay awake, sleep eluding her. Her thoughts circled restlessly—Cipher, her cousin, Lucius. She knew Lucius had been scheming, moving in the shadows, thirsting for power. He wanted the throne for himself. And yet, she kept him close. As the saying went: Keep your enemies closer.
The weight of her worries dragged her out of bed. Seeking solace, she walked to the chapel. She wasn't expecting to find Father Gideon Hale. He sat hunched over his scrolls, deep in study, until the sound of her footsteps made him look up. His brows rose slightly in surprise, but he quickly set his work aside and approached her.
"My queen," he greeted, bowing his head. "What brings you here?"
Queen Drusilla forced a faint smile. She sighed. "I can't sleep, no matter how hard I try."
Father Gideon studied her with a knowing expression. "Something weighs on your mind."
She hesitated, then murmured, "Clouds of darkness." It was the only way she could describe the unrest inside her.
He understood immediately. Some things were too heavy for words. "You seek peace of mind," he said gently.
She nodded. "Sort of."
He sensed she needed to talk, and he was ready to listen. "You met Cipher today." His voice was measured, thoughtful.
Queen Drusilla nodded. "Yes. You've heard about her?"
Father Gideon shook his head. "I didn't hear about it—I met her. When you summoned her, she was already in my grip."
Queen Drusilla's eyes flickered with surprise. "And why did you go to meet her?" She knew he never acted without purpose.