Chapter 12 The Echo of Forgotten Blood

Elaria's POV

The wind slapped my face, carrying the stink of wet dirt and something else, something sharp, almost like blood. I held my breath and took another step. My heart hammered against my ribs. This chamber beneath those old stones just stretched on forever. The walls were covered in carvings, and writings that were way older than anything we have back in the castle libraries. The very air hummed like it was buzzing with voices only I could pick up.

Rowan was right there next to me. His fingers just barely touched mine, like he was making sure I didn't float away. This place... he whispered, and you could tell it scared him. It's more than just some old crumbled building. It's a grave.

I felt it too, a shiver crawling up my spine. It settled right here in my chest, this heavy feeling. I think I knew it the second we climbed down here. Magic, or what was left of it, clung to these walls. I could feel it, pressing against my skin like cold fingers.

No one was supposed to find it, I whispered back, running my fingers over one of the symbols that was half-covered in dust. It burned like ice against my skin. Someone locked it up tight.

Rowan sucked in a breath. So why's it open now?

I didn't have an answer, not really. The shadows on the walls seemed to dance, reaching for us. I almost thought I saw something move, a shape at the far end of the chamber, but it was gone in a blink.

Rowan squeezed my hand. We should get out of here.

We can't, I told him, but my voice shook a little. It's not random. The attacks, the missing people, these markings – they all point back to this place.

Then we heard it: a low growl that bounced off the walls. My heart jumped into my throat. It didn't sound like any animal I knew.

Rowan moved without thinking, stepping in front of me as the darkness twisted again. Something peeled itself away from the shadows, and its eyes glowed silver in the low light. It was a wolf, but huge, bigger than any wolf should be. Its fur was matted and dirty, and it moved strange, jerky, like someone was pulling it around.

Elaria, Rowan said, a quiet warning. That thing... it's dead.

The wolf jumped.

Rowan just shoved me out of the way, throwing himself at the wolf. They both hit the ground hard. Snarls and growls filled the chamber. I scrambled back to my feet, trying to think. Would my magic even do anything against something like this?

Rowan was twisting, trying to keep the thing away. I could see the muscles straining in his arms. Now might be a good time, Elaria!

I shot my hand out, reaching for the power inside me. It came in a rush, like fire, and I let it go. The flames hit the beast and it screamed, and the sound was awful.

The fire swallowed it in seconds, burning away the fur and the skin. The wolf gave one last cry and then just fell apart into ash.

The chamber just went silent.

Rowan was breathing hard, staring at the place where the wolf had been. That wasn't just a wolf, he said, his voice rough. Something was controlling it.

I nodded, my hands shaking. But what?

The air changed again. It felt like the whole chamber was getting darker, like something huge was watching us.

And then, so quiet I almost missed it, a voice whispered my name.

Rowan grabbed my arm. We have to get out of here. Now!

But I couldn't move. My legs were frozen. My heart was pounding, and then the voice came again, louder this time, shaking the whole place.

Elaria… you were never supposed to come back.

The ground shook. Dust fell from the ceiling, and a crack split the stone floor. Something was waking up, and it wanted me gone.

The torches along the hallway flickered in the wind. Elaria marched ahead, her footfalls echoing in the stone hall. The scent of damp filled her lungs, steadying her as she came close to the war chamber entrance. Behind her, Rowan trailed close, his footsteps falling in time with her own.

The guards at the door watched them approach, trading uncertain glances. The air was thick with unspoken tension. Elaria ignored them and pushed the heavy doors open.

The war chamber was already filled with voices – the council was in the middle of a heated debate. Maps of Nyxvale were spread across the huge table, marked with symbols that pointed to the growing troubles. When she came in, the room went silent.

Councilor Veyron, his face unreadable, cleared his throat. Your Majesty.

Elaria scanned the faces gathered. She didn't miss some of them looking away, or the doubt in their eyes.

The raids, she said, her voice sharp. Where are the reports?

There was a pause, and then one of the advisors, a thin man by the name of Edric, cleared his throat and pushed a scroll toward her. We have troubling news scouts returned with, Your Majesty, he said, his voice shaking. The villages along the eastern border have fallen silent, with no people, no bodies – just gone.

Rowan stepped forward, his jaw tight. And the Council really still thinks this is just raiders? he said, his voice laced with disbelief. No enemy leaves anything behind.

Veyron locked down the hatches. We aren't saying it's not a big deal, but we need to understand what we're dealing with before we head straight in.

Elaria gripped the edge of the table. Then let's find out.

The council members traded uneasy glances. Some grudgingly nodded, but a lot of them still held back.

Before anyone could say a word, the doors flew open. A warrior, covered in blood, stumbled in. Your Majesty – he gasped. We found them.

Elaria's heart skipped. Who?

The warrior's lip trembled. The missing villagers. They… He needed to swallow before getting ice through the room. They came back.

A chill went down Elaria's spine. Rowan didn't even flinch.

The warrior's next words sent ice to the room.

But they aren't the same.