THE LOCKED GRIMOIRE
The air in the underground corridors of Saint Hiller felt impossibly thick that night. Darkness seemed to possess a will of its own, creeping along stone walls, whispering secrets that no human tongue dared speak. Dampness seeped deep into the bones. High above, the clocktower tolled slowly, as if time itself had chosen to linger, eager to watch what would unfold.
Brian moved cautiously behind Lucian and Nika, his breath a pale mist in the cold air. Against his chest, the dark, silvery pendant pulsed with a slow, deliberate beat, like a second heart that lived apart from his own.
“Feels like… we’re not alone,” murmured Nika. Her face was pale, emerald eyes darting between shifting shadows.
Lucian tilted his head, silver dagger already drawn in his fist. “Stay calm. They won’t attack unless we touch the altar.”
“They?” Brian swallowed. “What do you mean *they*?”
Lucian glanced at him briefly, his dark eyes grim. “The creatures guarding the Vault of Shadows.”
---
The shadow struck without warning.
At first, it was just a slithering blur of blackness. Then it swelled, lurching forward until it shaped itself into a monstrous cloud vaguely resembling a human face. Its eyes glowed blood-red, glaring straight at Brian. Its cracked, stony skin seemed ready to split open at any second.
Then it released a piercing shriek, long and metallic, like steel screaming across granite.
Brian staggered back, crashing into Nika. The pendant around his neck vibrated wildly, as if it recognized the presence before them. A faint purple glow began radiating outward from the crystal’s surface.
Lucian lunged forward, lifting his dagger. A thin green light crawled down the blade’s length. “Don’t let it get closer!”
---
THE BATTLE AT THE ALTAR
The creature darted toward them, cloaked in swirling black mist. Shadowy tendrils slashed out like whips, one of them striking a stone pillar and shattering it into a storm of jagged rubble.
“Aska Nocturna! Velari Umbrae!”
Nika chanted a protective spell, conjuring a shimmering circle of pale blue light around them. Energy rippled outward in waves, momentarily slowing the monster’s advance.
But the shadow was relentless. Instead of retreating, it divided itself into two, then four, then eight smaller specters, each swirling and twisting in circles around Nika’s glowing barrier.
“Brian… Brian… we’ve been looking for you…” whispered the shadows in eerie unison. Their voices crackled like shards of shattered glass.
Brian clutched at his pendant, heart hammering so hard it hurt.
*Why… why do they speak as if they know me?*
One wraith dove at the barrier, colliding against Nika’s shield with a thunderous crack. Hairline fractures began to spiderweb across the spell’s shimmering surface. The glow of Nika’s circle flickered, dimming like a dying star. Sweat beaded across her forehead.
“I… can’t… hold it much longer!” she gasped.
Lucian sprang forward, plunging his silver dagger into one of the smaller shadows. A sharp hissing sound filled the corridor, like water striking a forge. The specter twisted violently, howling as it dissolved into black vapor.
But the remaining shadows pressed in closer. They slithered through gaps in Nika’s spell, wrapping themselves around Brian’s ankles. Icy cold seeped up his legs, numbing him from calf to knee. He stumbled, barely managing to stay upright.
---
VOICES INSIDE BRIAN’S MIND
In the midst of his terror, a new voice resonated in Brian’s mind. It was soft… yet carried a metallic echo, as though forged from twisted steel.
“You are part of us… the heir of the ancient blood. Open the path for our return.”
Brian’s pendant clicked open slightly, as if forced by an unseen hand. Inside, he glimpsed a tiny, intricately carved eye of black crystal, now throbbing as if alive. A dark purple ray burst forth, slicing through the suffocating shadows.
All at once, the creatures screamed in agony, a sound so piercing that both Nika and Lucian clapped hands over their ears. One by one, the shadows writhed and evaporated, dissolving into the stone walls until the corridor fell silent again.
Dust still hung in the air, drifting like spectral snow.
---
AT THE ALTAR
Lucian stood there, panting heavily. His dagger was streaked with dark residue that slowly sizzled and vanished. He turned his gaze on Brian, equal parts fear and awe blazing in his eyes.
“You… you’re starting to awaken the power of the Vindrae.”
Nika still trembled as she lowered her trembling hands. “But… it’s only the beginning, Brian. You’re not fully connected yet. You… you’re incredibly dangerous now.”
Brian stared at them, chest heaving. “What do you mean… the Vindrae? Why did those things say they were looking for me?”
---
They turned toward the altar at the heart of the Vault. The Vault of Shadows*seemed to pulse darker than the gloom around it. A low hum, almost like the growl of the earth itself, vibrated through the stones. Resting atop the altar lay the Grimoire of the Vindrae — an ancient tome bound in blackened leather, its corners fitted with tarnished iron. Etched into the cover was the symbol of three stacked eyes, each one subtly blinking as if alive in the flickering torchlight.
Lucian fixed Brian with a grave look. “This Grimoire only opens itself to a true heir. No ordinary person can survive reading it.”
Nika added softly, “Anyone who tries to force it open… loses their mind. Or dies.”
Brian stepped closer, equal parts terrified and starving for answers. The pendant on his chest beat faster, urging him forward. Hesitantly, he pressed his hand to the Grimoire’s cover.
Instantly, purple light exploded outward. The metal locks on the book unlatched and began to spin, emitting soft metallic chimes. Slowly, the pages started to turn… one by one…
---
INSIDE THE GRIMOIRE OF VINDRAE
On the first page, written in black ink that seemed to shimmer and pulse, were words that chilled Brian to his marrow:
“The Vindrae are not dead. We are scattered in the shadows. Our eyes remain open.”
Brian read faster, unable to stop. Though written in symbols older than any language he’d ever learned, he could understand every word as though reading his native tongue. It felt as though the knowledge was etched into his bones.
Inside the Grimoire, he found:
The Vindrae Clan existed long before the city of Belgorov was born.
Their core power was dimensional sight — the ability to see tears in time, space, and glimpse hidden truths.
They could bind shadows into servants, or even create monstrous beings like those black wraiths.
The clan was nearly destroyed by **betrayal from within Saint Hiller itself.
Beneath Saint Hiller lay a secret chamber called the Vault of Shadows, housing the clan’s deepest power and secrets of the world’s fate.
---
RISING TENSION
Brian’s hand shook as it hovered over the open pages. “I… I’m descended from them?” His voice was barely more than a whisper.
Lucian’s stare grew hard. “You’re not just descended. You’re the last heir of the Vindrae bloodline.”
Nika spoke up quietly. “And that means… every faction will hunt you now. Even… possibly… the Shadow Fellowship.”
Brian blinked, confusion clouding his face. “Why the Fellowship? Aren’t they supposed to protect Saint Hiller?”
Lucian’s face darkened. “Not everyone in the Fellowship wants to see the Vindrae rise again.”
---
Suddenly, the great bell of Saint Hiller tolled overhead. The sound was deep, thunderous, rattling the very stones.
DONG… DONG… DONG…
Nika went pale. “That’s… the summons for the Shadow Council.”
Lucian cursed under his breath. “They know we’re down here. We have to get out.”
Tomas emerged from the shadows, face grim. He quickly scooped up the Grimoire, sliding it into a protective black pouch. Purple energy vanished into the thick cloth.
“You’ll learn from it later, Brian. Right now, we have to escape alive.”
---
ESCAPE FROM THE VAULT
They raced through the winding corridors. Footsteps thundered behind them, while distant voices chanted spells in ancient tongues, painting swirling black sigils in the air. The entire corridor seemed to close in on them, as though the walls of Saint Hiller itself sought to swallow them whole.
Around a sharp corner, a figure appeared — a tall man cloaked in black, crimson eyes burning like coals. His voice boomed with dark magic:
"**Surrender the heir!**”
Lucian charged forward, slashing with his silver dagger. Brilliant green sparks erupted, forcing the figure back with a shriek. Nika grabbed Brian’s wrist. “Come on!”
They crashed through a curtain of black magic, sparks crackling around them. Shadows crawled up the walls like oily vines. The corridor tightened, squeezing Brian’s breath from his lungs.
At last, they stumbled upon a hidden door behind a bookshelf. Tomas pressed a precise sequence of stones, and the door rotated open. They tumbled into a hidden chamber and Tomas slammed the door shut behind them.
Silence fell, save for the ragged gasps of their breath.
Lucian leaned heavily against the wall, sweat trickling down his face. “Now you know. You’re no longer just a student. You are the center of the coming storm.”
Nika lowered her eyes. “And from this moment on… there is no safe place in Saint Hiller.”
---
SHADOWS IN THE NIGHT
That night, Brian lay in bed, eyes wide open, his mind spinning with terror and wonder. The Grimoire. The shadows. The visions. Lucian’s warnings.
Suddenly, his pendant shuddered violently. A surge of energy **ripped him away from his surroundings.
---
BRIAN’S VISION
He stood in the vast hall of Saint Hiller, surrounded by dozens of cloaked figures, all glaring toward a young blond man bound in black iron chains. It was Silvester Alexander.
The voice of the Council’s leader rang out, echoing off the stone walls:
“**The blood of the Vindrae must be sealed. It cannot rise again.**”
Silvester slowly raised his head, his blue eyes boring into Brian’s.
“Brian… your time will come. Trust no one. Not even… the Fellowship.”
The vision shattered like glass. Brian awoke, gasping for breath.
---
IN THE HIGHEST WATCHTOWER
Far away, hidden deep within Saint Hiller’s highest tower, the Shadow Council convened in a secret chamber. An elderly man with sunken eyes spoke in a voice like rolling thunder:
“The heir of Vindrae… has begun to awaken.”
A woman in a crimson cloak leaned forward. “The Shadow Fellowship is protecting him. They’re overstepping.”
The Council leader nodded slowly. “It’s time… to unleash the Dark Sentinels. Let them hunt the heir.”
From the shadows at the edge of the chamber, a tall figure cloaked in black stepped forward. His eyes glowed red beneath his hood.
“The hunt… begins.”