Bone and Silver

Chapter 4: Bone and Silver

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The Night Was Not Finished With Them

Lucian was still on his knees, breath ragged, silver energy flickering in his veins. The creature that should not exist—the thing that had whispered inside his mind, that had resisted silver itself—was gone.

Erased.

But the danger was not over.

Eris stood rigid, her golden eyes scanning the ruins, her spear still pulsing with unstable silver. Ronan hadn't lowered his weapons either, his silver daggers held in a reverse grip, poised to strike.

Then Lucian felt it.

A new presence.

Something cold, ancient. Watching.

It wasn't like the creature. It wasn't like the Shade. This was something more familiar, something he had already come to know in Nocturnal's eternal night.

A vampire.

The air grew heavy. The fire between them flickered and snuffed out.

Then came the voice.

Low. Amused. Hungry.

"You are human~, and yet you carry something darker inside you."

Lucian turned toward the ruins—toward the broken stone archway where the presence loomed.

A figure stepped forward, emerging from the shadows as if he had always been there, just waiting to be noticed.

He was tall, broad-shouldered, draped in a dark cloak woven with strands of bone. His face was sharp, angular, with high cheekbones and skin as pale as moonlight. But it was his eyes that made Lucian's blood run cold—milky white, devoid of pupils, empty yet somehow piercing.

A Bone Clan vampire.

A lord of undeath.

Ronan's grip on his daggers tightened. "Shit."

Eris's golden gaze narrowed, her spear already angled for a fight.

The vampire smiled. It was not a pleasant thing.

"You mortals should be more careful," he murmured, voice like grinding stone. "The things that crawl in the dark are not always your greatest enemy."

Then—he moved.

---

In that instance the air became colder

Eris and Ronan reacted instantly.

Ronan darted forward, his silver daggers flashing as he slashed for the vampire's throat.

The vampire sidestepped effortlessly, moving like a shadow. One moment, he was in front of them—the next, he was behind Ronan.

Lucian barely had time to process what happened before the vampire's bare hand struck Ronan in the chest.

A dull crunch rang out.

Ronan flew backward like a ragdoll, slamming into a half-collapsed pillar. Stone shattered from the impact. He groaned but forced himself back up, coughing blood.

Lucian's stomach twisted. That wasn't normal strength.

Before he could react, Eris struck.

She moved like lightning, her spear a blur of silver light as she lunged.

The vampire didn't dodge this time. He let her hit him.

Lucian watched as the silver tip pierced clean through the vampire's side. The spear should have burned him.

But it didn't.

Instead, the vampire laughed.

The wound sealed instantly, flesh knitting together like melting wax. Beneath the torn flesh, his bones shifted, expanding, reinforcing his body like living armor.

Eris's grip on her spear tightened. "Regeneration…"

The vampire's grin widened. "I am of the Bone Clan. I do not break. I do not bleed."

Then his fist slammed into her stomach.

Eris grunted, skidding backward, but she didn't fall. She twisted her spear, spinning it in her grip before lunging again.

Ronan was already back on his feet, daggers flashing. He moved behind the vampire, slashing at his back—but the vampire's spine twisted unnaturally, snapping around to block the strike with his forearm.

His bones reshaped as armor, jagged spikes forming along his limbs.

Lucian watched, heart hammering. This was different. Vampires were supposed to be **fast, strong, resilient—**but this was something else.

The Bone Clan weren't just monsters.

They were evolution.

The vampire lunged for Eris again, his clawed hands forming sharp bone talons.

She blocked with her spear, but his raw strength sent her sliding back. Ronan darted in, slicing deep into the vampire's side—but the bone armor absorbed the damage.

The vampire was laughing now.

"You fight well," he said, his milky eyes gleaming. "Better than most of your kind." He tilted his head toward Eris. "Especially you. I can smell it—the silver heart in your veins, waiting to be shaped. You have not yet ascended, have you?"

Eris said nothing.

Lucian saw it then—for the first time, she was a bit hesitated.

The vampire's grin widened.

"Good," he whispered. "That means I'll enjoy breaking you."

Then he rushed her.

And Eris finally let go.

---

Eris let go of her strength, not holding back anymore.

Eris didn't retreat. She didn't dodge.

She let go of her spear.

And in an instant—she created more.

Ten. Twenty. Fifty.

Silver spears manifested in the air around her, humming, spinning like a storm of metal and light.

The vampire stopped.

For the first time, he hesitated.

Eris raised a hand.

"Afraid?"

She mocked

The spheres launched forward all at once.

The vampire reacted fast. His arms expanded, bones growing into jagged shields, covering his entire body. The first wave of silver struck him like meteors, slamming him backward, crushing the stone beneath his feet.

But he wasn't dead.

He was regenerating—again.

"Dont get full of yourself! Mortal."

Eris gritted her teeth. More spears formed, even faster this time, spinning into the air like a silver storm.

But the vampire moved first.

He shot forward, his bone armor forming a lance—aimed directly for her heart.

Lucian's breath caught.

Eris didn't flinch.

Instead—

She snapped her fingers.

And every single silver sphere imploded at once.

The shockwave roared through the ruins, dust and debris exploding outward. The sheer force shattered the vampire's armor, breaking through his bone defenses.

For the first time—he screamed.

Silver burned into him, piercing him from all sides. He tried to move, tried to heal—

But Eris wasn't done.

She raised her spear again. The final strike.

The vampire looked at her.

And he grinned.

"You think this is victory?" he whispered, his voice ragged, ruined. "You only delay the inevitable."

Then, as if the darkness itself swallowed him—he was gone.

No body. No ash.

Just emptiness.

Silence returned.

Lucian exhaled, his body trembling.

Eris lowered her spear, her breathing unsteady. Ronan wiped blood from his mouth, his expression grim.

They had survived.

But they all knew.

The vampires had found them.

And it was no longer safe here.

--------

---

The battle was over.

The vampire was gone, fading into the dark like a nightmare slipping from memory. But his presence lingered. Even as the ruins returned to their deathly silence, the weight of the encounter clung to them like a cold second skin.

Lucian could still hear the sound of cracking bone, the scraping of sharpened fangs, the whisper of something ancient watching him.

He shivered and pulled his cloak tighter.

Eris hadn't spoken since the fight. She walked ahead, her golden eyes scanning the horizon, her spear now silent, restrained. The silver storm she had summoned was gone, but Lucian knew—that power had not vanished.

She was simply waiting to use it again.

Ronan was quiet too, his usual smirk replaced with something heavier. He kept one of his silver daggers in hand as they moved, fingers tense, ready.

Lucian swallowed, glancing at the road ahead.

They were close now.

Sanctorum—the last true stronghold of the Silver Order, the last defense against the night.

And for the first time since waking in this world, Lucian felt the weight of where he was going.

They weren't just returning to a place.

They were entering a world within a world.

---

After a few more days of running.

The landscape slowly began to change.

At first, Lucian barely noticed it. The ruins still stretched around them, silent and empty, but there was something… different.

The air felt thicker. Not with the oppressive weight of vampires or the unknown creatures lurking in the dark, but with something unseen.

A presence.

A barrier.

Lucian slowed his steps, frowning. "What is this?"

Eris answered without looking at him. "We're at the threshold."

Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Threshold?"

Ronan stopped beside him and tapped the air in front of them.

Something shimmered.

For a fraction of a second, Lucian saw it—a massive, invisible wall stretching endlessly in both directions, curving into the sky like the edge of a dome. It wasn't made of stone or steel, but something else.

Something… alive.

The air around it crackled faintly, like static before a storm.

Lucian's breath caught. "What the hell is this?"

"The Outer Wall," Ronan said. "The Silver Order's first defense."

Lucian reached out, fingers grazing the air—

And instantly, pain lanced through his arm.

He recoiled, clutching his wrist. His veins burned, silver light flickering beneath his skin. The barrier had rejected him.

Eris finally turned, watching him carefully.

"It's a purity seal," she said. "No one passes unless they are of the Order."

Lucian's pulse quickened. "So what happens to me?"

Eris studied him for a moment longer before she stepped forward.

Then she walked through the barrier like it wasn't even there.

Ronan followed, his body phasing through the invisible wall, silver rippling around him like mist.

Lucian hesitated.

This was it. The last threshold.

Taking a deep breath, he clenched his fists, forced himself forward—

And stepped through.

---

The moment Lucian's foot crossed the barrier, everything changed.

The sky—the eternal, dead sky of Nocturnal, which had always been black and starless—shifted.

The moment he stepped inside, it was as if he had walked into an entirely different world.

A sky locked in perpetual dawn stretched overhead, streaked with hues of silver and pale gold. The sun never rose, the night never truly fell—it was frozen in the moment between darkness and light.

Lucian stumbled slightly, overwhelmed by the sheer weight of the place.

And then he saw it.

Sanctorum.

The fortress stood like a monument to something beyond time, something ancient and unbroken.

A fortress built entirely of silver.

The walls stretched high into the sky, massive and smooth, gleaming even under the unmoving dawn. Hundreds of intricate silver runes were carved into the metal, glowing faintly, pulsing as if alive.

Lucian's breath caught.

This wasn't just a stronghold.

It was a city of warriors.

Atop the towering walls, figures in silver armor stood watch, their weapons gleaming like stars against the pale light. Their movements were precise, disciplined. Even from here, Lucian could feel their power, their presence.

Eris and Ronan continued forward without hesitation, leading him toward the gates.

Lucian forced himself to move, his feet feeling too heavy.

This was the heart of the Silver Order.

And he had just walked straight into it.

---

As they approached the gates, the guards finally moved.

Two warriors descended, their cloaks shifting like liquid metal. Their faces were hidden beneath smooth, silver masks, their golden eyes gleaming through the slits.

One of them raised a hand, and the gate shimmered with light.

"You returned," the masked warrior spoke, his voice calm but firm. His eyes flickered toward Eris. "And you bring an outsider."

Eris didn't flinch. "He survived the Shade."

The guard hesitated.

Then his gaze fell onto Lucian.

Lucian forced himself to meet it, even as a strange sensation washed over him.

The warrior wasn't just looking at him.

He was seeing through him.

Lucian's skin prickled as the man's eyes darkened slightly, as if something inside him was studying his very soul.

Then—

The warrior stiffened.

For a brief second, his grip on the silver halberd he carried tightened.

Lucian caught it.

The hesitation. The shift in stance.

The warrior had seen something.

But then, as quickly as it had come, the tension vanished.

The guard lowered his weapon.

"You will be taken to the High Council."

Lucian frowned. "huh?That fast?"

The other masked warrior finally spoke, his voice deeper.

"You are an unknown." His gaze flickered to Eris. "And unknowns do not walk freely in Sanctorum."

Lucian exhaled, glancing toward the fortress.

The massive gates began to open.

And as he stepped forward, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had just walked into something far greater than he had imagined.

Sanctorum was safe.

But that did not mean he was.

---

End of Chapter 4