Chapter 11: Ashes and Oaths

The wind howled through the shattered chapel, cold and merciless.

David stood in the doorway, staring out at the black hills.

Ash still floated in the air. Bits of glowing rune-dust drifted and died. The stench of burned roots and old blood clogged every breath.

Behind him, Lucien pushed himself upright, one clawed hand pressed to his cracked ribs.

"Don't know if you're stupid or just stubborn," he rasped.

David didn't turn.

"Both."

Lucien snorted, a wet, painful sound.

"Good. You'll need it. Because if that thing survived—and it did—you just signed a death warrant for everyone you love."

David's jaw tightened.

Everyone he loved.

He saw Priya's face. Saw her eyes glow with something not her own.

He shut his eyes.

"Then we kill it."

Lucien limped to his side, peering at the dark hills.

Lightning flickered on the horizon, turning the clouds into bruised, rolling monsters.

"That's the spirit," Lucien drawled. "Now, any idea how?"

David finally looked at him.

The wind whipped his hair into his eyes, stinging with sweat and grit.

"I'll find someone who knows."

Lucien arched a brow.

"Oh, yes. Let's just ask the local coven. Or the Order of the Fang. Or maybe the Church of the Pure Flame, who'd love to burn us both for existing."

David's voice was cold.

"I don't care who I have to talk to."

Lucien's smile was a slash of teeth.

"Now you're sounding like me."

A deep crack split one of the chapel's pillars.

It groaned, ancient mortar giving way.

David ignored it.

He wiped blood from his face, eyes empty.

"She's alive," he whispered.

Lucien didn't argue this time.

He just watched him carefully.

"Then let's get moving," Lucien finally said. "We're too exposed here. When that thing reforms, it'll follow your scent."

David turned back to the ruined altar.

He could feel her.

Faint.

Distant.

David… don't forget me…

He shut his eyes, committing her voice to memory.

"I won't."

They limped down from the ridge in silence.

Twisted roots still smoldered, black smoke rising into the night sky.

Somewhere in the trees, something howled—high, broken, maddened.

Lucien glanced back once.

"Congratulations. You've made a god angry."

David didn't answer.

When they reached the treeline, David finally sagged against a half-dead oak, blood from his shoulder soaking his shirt.

Lucien watched him impassively.

"Rest while you can," he said. "At dawn, we head for Graymere."

David's eyes flickered.

"The town?"

Lucien nodded.

"They have records. Old ones. Even older debts. If anyone knows what that… thing… was, it's them."

David wiped sweat and blood from his eyes.

"Fine."

He couldn't stop seeing her eyes.

Priya's eyes, but wrong.

Lucien turned away, his voice flat.

"Sleep. I'll keep watch. Try not to dream."

David didn't answer.

He slumped against the tree, breathing hard.

Slowly, unwillingly, exhaustion dragged him down.

Elsewhere

Darkness.

Silence like a coffin.

Priya floated, weightless, cold.

She couldn't scream anymore. Her throat was raw, her voice gone.

But she tried.

"David…"

Nothing answered.

But around her, something moved.

She felt fingers on her mind. Digging. Peeling.

A voice like oil.

"You're strong. I will savor this."

She whimpered.

"Leave me alone…"

"You offered yourself. I just accepted."

She remembered the roots grabbing her. The magic exploding.

Her runes burned like hot iron.

"Let me out!"

The thing laughed.

"Soon. When you're ready."

She sobbed soundlessly.

And far away, barely audible, she heard his voice.

I'm coming.

She clung to it.

The only light left.

Back in the forest

David woke with a start.

Night had deepened, stars scattered like shattered glass.

Lucien crouched nearby, eyes glowing faintly red, watching the shadows.

David's breath fogged in the chill.

He felt sick.

But he stood.

Lucien didn't move.

"You heard her, didn't you?" Lucien said softly.

David swallowed hard.

"Yeah."

Lucien bared his teeth in a grim smile.

"Then let's go make sure you get to say it to her in person."

David's fingers tightened around the silvered blade.

He turned toward Graymere.

Lightning flashed again in the distance.

A storm was coming.

And so was he.

David adjusted the ruined strap of his pack, tightening it over the ragged bite in his shoulder. Every movement sent knives of pain through his arm.

He didn't care.

He could see the path winding down from the ridge, pale in the moonlight, flanked by skeletal trees that rattled in the wind like bones.

Lucien followed a pace behind, silent.

The vampire's steps were too quiet, too graceful for how battered he looked.

David glanced back once.

The ruins of the chapel loomed above them, black against the sky.

The wind whistled through the broken arch, like a mocking laugh.

David turned away.

"Never again," he whispered.

Lucien's voice was low, almost gentle for once.

"You did well. Most men would've run."

David didn't answer.

He couldn't.

Priya's voice still echoed in his head.

David… don't forget me…

He wouldn't.

He couldn't.

He set his jaw and took the first step toward Graymere.

Behind him, Lucien smiled, a flash of fangs in the dark.

"There's hope for you yet, human."

They walked on into the night, the wind rising to swallow their tracks.

Above them, thunder growled in the clouds.

And somewhere in that storm, something old and hungry was waiting.

They didn't speak for a long time as they walked.

The forest closed around them, gnarled branches reaching like claws, leaves whispering secrets overhead.

Somewhere distant, another howl broke the night—a cracked, broken thing.

David tightened his grip on the knife.

Lucien's eyes flicked sideways.

"You planning to stab me if I turn on you?"

David didn't bother looking at him.

"Depends."

Lucien snorted softly.

"Good. Keep that energy. You'll need it in Graymere."

David finally met his gaze.

"Tell me about it."

Lucien's smile was thin, humorless.

"It's a cesspit. Old magic. Older debts. Half the town's human. The other half wears human skin. They don't like vampires. Or witches. Or hunters."

David's jaw tightened.

"I don't care if they hate me. I'm getting answers."

Lucien's eyes gleamed red in the dark.

"Just remember: answers have a price."

David faced forward again, teeth gritted, blood drying on his torn shirt.

"Then I'll pay it."

Lightning flickered again, lighting the path in stark white.

They kept walking, two dark figures swallowed by the night, heading for Graymere and the promise of secrets best left buried.