Chapter 2 – “The Refuge in the Mountains”

After a year of traveling, through mountains and over hills, on paths made by themselves, through places where it seemed that neither man nor beast had ever walked, Ioh together with Luc and Nicolai managed to find a quiet area where they could rest for a while.

In that place, the water gleamed and reflected the rays of a sunrise unseen even by Ioh; the hills were so green, and the nearby mountain was so large it watched over them like a parent. The hunter had found a wonderful place to raise the little ones. Luc and Nicolai felt freed from their fate. For the first time, Luc seemed more alive, his cheeks had turned red. A shy smile appeared on his face, and his gaze radiated life. Nicolai, ever more cheerful and truly enchanted by the surroundings, watched everything with wide eyes. His endless curiosity made him search with his gaze for any movement.

Animals prowled around the area: deer, bears, wolves, foxes, but also smaller animals, like bunnies or little squirrels, who out of curiosity slowly approached the two twins.

From the shadow of a large oak, very thick, tall as the mountain itself, a feminine silhouette could be seen watching them closely. After she analyzed the situation and saw the hunter Ioh, the woman climbed onto a stag and approached the newly arrived travelers.

Ioh had noticed for some time that they were being watched by a woman's eyes, so he waited for the watcher to come to them.

The woman reached them and, with a dignified and determined voice, said:

— "It is truly you, monk Ioh? The hunter exiled from his own land. The one who set out on his journey to bring justice?"

Ioh, surprised that the woman knew his name, lifted his gaze to her, studying her carefully. He noticed the missing ear, but pretended not to see it and, with a slight smile at the corner of his lips, said:

— "Could it really be me, the monk Ioh you ask about, my lady?"

The woman knew she was never wrong and spoke with certainty:

— "I've heard much about you, both good and bad. But my eyes do not lie, I know who you are and I see the kindness in your soul, even if you hide it under your cloak. I see in your gaze that you have a path to follow and a promise to keep. I see how your road will be hard and full of shadows."

Ioh saw that the woman had read him like an open book in just a few moments; he realized he was not dealing with an ordinary person. And so he asked:

— "Can you see the shadows that will follow me through the years?"

— "I can see many things, but your future is full of trials. I also see other shadows that fight alongside you, but these children you accompany have a destiny shrouded in mist, a future unknown even to me," the woman said with fear in her eyes.

Ioh clenched his fists slightly:

— "I have a path to follow and a promise to fulfill… Even if I must return from death, these children will grow up happy, in peace."

The woman looked at him with respect, and her voice, low and gentle, seemed to carry the weight of centuries:

— "I am Nira… the one who can foresee the future! The future I have seen lies far ahead, 15 years away. For a beetle, 15 years is a fading dream; for an owl, it may be an entire life; and for a human… only a moment."

Her eyes darkened a bit, and her words grew graver, almost a whisper:

— "But even so… Dacus, my master, remains sunk in a deep sleep, from which no one, no matter how hard they try, can awaken him."

Ioh looked at her closely, slightly frowning, while his cloak fluttered gently in the wind:

— "Who is your master… the one trapped in such an endless sleep?"

Nira lifted her chin slightly, and her voice became solemn, almost like a calling from other times:

— "Dacus… the last descendant of an ancient guild of guardians from western Transylvania."

Nira paused briefly, and her gaze fell upon the twins who were sleeping peacefully:

— "In his place… I offer you shelter in the manor atop the mountain. There, the children will know neither fear nor the shadow of any danger."

Ioh took off his hat in gratitude:

— "Thank you, Nira… In times like these, a safe roof is worth more than a hundred swords."

Then, Ioh lifted the twins from the grass as green as in a fairy tale and introduced them to Nira:

— "The one on the left is called Grimm Nicolai, he's more spirited and lively… and the other, on the right, is Grimm Luc, who has only just found a bit more desire for life."

Nira loved children, and because of this, she took Nicolai and Luc by the hand, and with a gaze that sparkled, she said:

— "Grimm Luc and Grimm Nicolai… I feel they will change something in this world."

Nicolai, more curious by nature, immediately clung to the woman's robe, tugging gently, his eyes wide and bright.

Nira looked at him surprised, then smiled warmly, as if she understood without words what the little one wanted to ask:

— "You would like to know more, wouldn't you?" she whispered, leaning down a bit.

At the same time, Luc tugged more timidly, with his fragile hands, at Ioh's cloak. His eyes seemed to search for a reassurance that only the hunter's presence could give him.

And so, Nira held Nicolai close to her chest, Ioh wrapped Luc in his cloak, and they began to climb the mountain without delay. After they walked for half a day, just as the sun began to set, they reached the top. In the sky, the red disk of the sun burned like a coal, reddening the clouds, and more and more a manor appeared in sight. The manor was an imposing building with strange architecture, with patterns Ioh had only seen in old books he had read long ago. Luc and Nicolai watched, enchanted. In their eyes shone a peace they had only known in their mother's womb.

Nira, surprised by the sparkle in their eyes and their wonder, said softly:

— "Step inside… do not let the cold of night disturb your peace."

Inside, the woman led them to a room:

— "This room is yours, until you decide to leave!" said Nira after opening the door.

Ioh tucked in the twins, carefully laying a blanket over their fragile bodies, and the faint light of a candle flickered in the old room, like a promise to keep watch. With a last glance at their peaceful faces, he stepped outside into the cool evening.

He pushed open the heavy wooden gate, which creaked, and walked with measured steps along the stone path leading to the edge of the courtyard. The air smelled of moss and damp earth, and the wind gently rustled through the branches of ancient trees.

He reached an old oak, its trunk marked by deep cracks of age, and silently set down his satchel.

From a lit window, Nira watched him closely, resting her forehead against the cold glass, curious.

Ioh took out an old bone flute, brought it to his lips, and began to play softly — a harsh, ancient call meant to draw out the creatures of the night. But the air remained still — no rustle among the leaves, no answer from the darkness.

With a focused gaze, he scattered a few baits meant for vampires, his steps calculated, his movements steady. Yet even now, he felt no shiver, heard no sound rising from the depths of the night. Only silence, heavy and oppressive.

Ioh stood still for a moment:

— "Strange…"

When he turned around, he saw Nira waiting by the gate, her arms crossed, a curious glimmer in her eyes.

— "Did you manage to set enough traps?" she asked, her tone calm but satisfied.

Ioh sighed lightly and replied:

— "There was no need. It's quiet… too quiet. The area seems free of any danger."

Nira lifted her chin with calm pride and said, almost as a confession:

— "These lands are under my protection. I am the guardian of the forest."

Ioh answered with a brief smile:

— "Then maybe I can finally sleep peacefully."

Surprised by his sincerity, Nira gently bowed her head and whispered:

— "Go and rest. Guarding the manor… that is my duty."

Ioh silently returned inside, pulled the cloak around his shoulders, and sat beside the twins, listening to the wind whispering through the old walls.

Night came with a full moon, yet sleep was slow to come. His thoughts consumed him: Why does Dacus sleep? What keeps him captive? — questions that carried him back, against his will, into memories of that journey which had changed his life…

Long ago, when he was nothing more than a simple monk, Ioh spent his days in the quiet of the monastery in the Stigma Mountains, in the eastern part of Moldova. His life was prayer and endless service. He lived with his soul wholly devoted to faith and the Catholic Church. Every gesture, every prayer, every step he took was offered without question, without knowing what shadows grew silently behind.

It was just before the outbreak of the First Cursed War… He remembers it clearly: only two days after the Church's hidden order, the Golden Chalice, managed to recover the Sacred Seal stolen by werewolves, dark rumors began to spread. At the Cathedral of Metropolitan Cassian of the East, innocent children disappeared, one by one, without a trace.

These disappearances became ever more frequent, and people blamed the vampire and werewolf spies prowling the area. Meanwhile, at the monastery in the Stigma Mountains, a girl with blonde hair and blue eyes began coming to pray. She came to bring flowers in memory of her brother, who had joined the Church to avenge their mother, but had been slain by vampires. Ioh saw the girl and they began to pray together. The monk felt comforted, seeing that there were still souls with morality and faith in those troubled times.

The girl, her eyes wet with tears, looked at him with desperation:

— "Great Father… please tell me… where does my brother rest?" Her voice trembled like a thin thread of wind in the night.

Ioh looked at her with heavy kindness:

— "The bodies of those slain by vampires are taken to the Cathedral of Metropolitan Cassian, for the great service."

He paused for a moment, seeing the pain on her face.

— "There, the priests will pray for their souls to be welcomed into the light."

The girl lowered her gaze, and heavy tears fell onto the cold stones of the monastery:

— "Please…" Her voice became only a whisper.

— "Can you help me reach him? So I can guide him, at least one last time?"

Ioh took a deep breath, gently placed a hand on her shoulder:

— "I was summoned to attend that service too…

— You will not go alone. I will accompany you, child. You have my word." His voice was warmer than usual.

The girl lifted her tear-filled eyes to him, as clear as a winter sky:

— "Thank you, father…" she whispered through her sobs.

— "My brother… he fought for justice. I want him to know he wasn't forgotten…"

Ioh inclined his head slightly, as a sign of respect for her courage:

— "And he will know."

He gathered the things he needed, and when he was ready, said:

— "Come. The road is long, and the ceremony is about to begin."

They walked quickly through the morning chill, and by evening, they finally reached the grand cathedral. At the gates of the cathedral, their paths had to part.

The girl, her eyes still wet with tears and her voice heavy with emotion, whispered gratefully:

— "Thank you from the bottom of my heart, father… for being by my side until here."

She paused for a moment, then raised her hand in a timid gesture, like a farewell the heart could barely speak, as if saying goodbye forever.

Ioh replied with a wide sign of the cross, like a blessing and an unseen shield to protect her. He too raised his hand, but his salute remained unfinished, suspended between them — a silent promise that somewhere, someday, their paths would cross again.

The girl stepped away, one step at a time, while Father Ioh turned to walk toward the place where he had to serve.

One day passed, and rumors increasingly heavy reached Ioh's ears about the disappearance of children. In the monk's heart, an insistent dread was born, gnawing at him with each passing hour. Determined, Ioh set out to find whether the girl with the blue eyes had managed to mourn her brother in peace. He searched everywhere: through the cathedral's courtyards, among shadowed columns, in cold crypts and prayer halls, until almost midnight. The only place untouched by his steps was the tall tower piercing the night sky.

The night felt strange, like a heavy omen; the wind stirred restlessly through the windows. With his heart beating like a drum, Ioh began to climb the stairs quickly, feeling the air grow heavier with each floor. He had only a few steps left to the top when a piercing scream shattered the silence — a cry for help that froze his blood. Without hesitation, Ioh drew from the hidden pocket at his belt a slender knife and then struck the door. The door slammed against the wall, its hinges creaking, and what he saw turned him to stone: in the pale light of the candles, the girl lay stretched out on a cold slab, and above her, holding a werewolf bone poised over her chest, stood none other than Metropolitan Cassian.

— "What are you doing here, Brother Ioh?" he spoke, his voice colder than stone.

Ioh, his face pale and breath ragged, took a step forward:

— "What… what is happening here?" His voice trembled, caught between fury and fear.

— "Great Metropolitan Cassian… what does all this mean?"

Cassian bowed his head slightly, and on his lips spread a twisted, cruel smile:

— "Truths that you, monk, were never meant to know…"

— "And the girl? What fault does she have?" burst Ioh, gripping the knife tighter.

— "More than you can understand now, Ioh…" Cassian replied, lowering the bone slowly, preparing to strike.

— "Not yet!" shouted Ioh, stepping forward, ready to fight to stop what he didn't even fully comprehend.

For a moment, silence fell between them — heavy and terrifying, like the breath of death itself.

Ioh gathered his courage, gripping the knife with all his strength. With a cry from deep within, he lunged forward. The blade cut through the air, driven by hatred and desperation, aiming for the evil in the darkness of the church. With a surge of force, Ioh pushed the knife, feeling it strike against something… as if the very night itself resisted. But when he looked closer, to see if he had dealt a fatal wound, he saw the knife would not pierce the evil before him.

He stood frozen for a moment, arm tense, his gaze fixed on his hand. The blade hadn't sunk even a palm's depth into the flesh of the man before him.

— "Is that all?" Cassian spoke, with a smile that split the darkness in two.

Ioh stepped back, his breath coming in ragged whispers, words barely escaping, suffocated:

— "What… what are you…?"

His eyes widened in horror and revolt:

— "What kind of monster are you, Metropolitan?"

Cassian lifted his head slightly, and his voice turned into a rasping echo, ancient as the cathedral's stones:

— "A truth your heart could never contain… 'The thirst for power.'"

Without wasting another moment, Cassian dropped his masks. From him poured a black vortex, an Ancient Aura — winds that howled, full of moans and screams, as if thousands of lost souls swirled around him.

Ioh's resolve faltered, his knees trembled, and his sight blurred with terror.

Cassian slowly extended his hand, almost gently, and closed his fingers over Ioh's hand, which still clutched the knife.

— "Look closely, Ioh… and tell me: did you ever think that light is the only power that dwells within the Church?"

Each word weighed heavier than stone, and in the shadows of that night, Ioh's soul felt for the first time the chill of an unfathomable abyss and the fear of death.

Cassian squeezed his hand with a cold, inhuman strength. Ioh's bones cracked, and the pain forced him to unclench his fingers. The knife slipped, skidding across the stone floor until it lay near the door.

In a low voice, Cassian spoke:

— "Stay… Watch… You must be a witness… only then will you understand how power is born."

Exhausted, his soul crushed by fear, Ioh looked at him with pleading eyes, hoping for a miracle. His gaze then stopped on the girl, who looked back at him — her eyes, full of terror, clinging to him like the last ray of hope.

Cassian raised the werewolf bone in his right hand.

— "It is time, child…" he whispered, his voice almost tender, like a poisonous embrace.

Then, with a sure movement, Cassian thrust the bone deep into her chest.

A dull crack, like dry wood splitting.

The girl's eyes filled with tears, turned once more toward Ioh. One last farewell, one final gaze torn from life.

Then, silence.

Cassian turned his head toward one of his servants, making a brief nod.

The servant rushed forward, grabbing Ioh by the shoulders.

Before being dragged away, Cassian threw words at him like a sentence:

— "You have seen too much tonight… But let something remain with you: only hatred will make you stronger."

His voice darkened, almost spitting out each word:

— "You are banished from the bosom of the Church. You have defiled a metropolitan! Wander in exile and find your death, mad monk!"

A cold smile spread over Cassian's face:

— "I will make it seem as if it was all your will. Be prepared for what comes next…"

Thrown to the border, where all those in exile go, into an abandoned cemetery where werewolves roamed among broken crosses, Ioh was left alone.

The wind whistled through his clothes. His gaze lost in emptiness, and thoughts burned fiercer than the cold: and the memory of the girl's eyes stung deeper than any wound:

— "I lived a lie… I served an evil I couldn't see…" — the thought echoed in his chest, heavy as a bell.

For the first time, his prayers found no answer. Guilt bit his soul more cruelly than death itself.

And so, with a heart weighed down by shadows, sleep finally took Ioh. But sleep brought him no forgetting — only dreams full of screams he could not silence.

Luc and Nicolai were sleeping deeply, and Ioh, exhausted from so many sleepless nights, finally managed to doze off for a few hours.

When, in the distance, a shadow was seen, moving hurriedly through the thickets, Nira put on her gray guardian armor, heavy and cold. She clenched her fingers around the two curved spears, then stepped slowly to the edge of the forest. She stood motionless, her gaze sweeping the horizon, searching for any sign.

Out of the darkness, a man came running, wearing a brown bear fur, his eyes tired and his limp step heavy with exhaustion. He stopped, and panting with a low, still trembling voice, said:

— Lady Nira… with great regret I must say… I am the only scout who has returned from the three who were sent…

The woman frowned, and her gaze darkened even more. She stepped closer, heavy steps echoing:

— What happened? — her voice boomed like a muffled thunder among the rocks. — You only had to gather information…

The man sank almost to the ground, his head bowed:

— We did seek information, Lady Nira… but the road… the road was scattered with obstacles darker than the night…

Nira leaned slightly toward him, and her will seemed to cut through the air:

— Speak, Paleș! Don't give me broken answers, she said, her voice as cold as a drawn sword. — Tell me everything you saw!

Just then, in the manor, Ioh awoke suddenly. He got up from bed, feeling strange, as if he had slept an entire year. With hurried steps, he went out into the hall and knocked on door after door:

— Nira!… Nira!… Where are you? We need to talk!… — his voice echoed emptily through the corridors.

The hallway remained silent, and the echo of his words returned to him.

Ioh checked each room in turn, but found nothing, only empty chambers. Finally, he reached an older wing of the manor. There, a heavy, slightly open door drew him with a silent call. He opened the door slowly, the creak of the hinges slicing through the silence. The air inside smelled of burnt wax and cold stone, and in the middle of the room, floating a few steps above the floor, a violet orb pulsed faintly, wrapped in shifting mist.

Ioh approached slowly, and his hand rose, trying to wave away the dense mist that enveloped the orb. Behind the fog, something—or rather someone—began to take shape. A boy of about sixteen, with a face pale as ivory and tousled chestnut hair. His cracked lips seemed ready to tell untold stories, and his youthful body was carefully clad in heavy, finely crafted armor — a sign of a young yet resolute guardian. At his feet, the floor was etched with strange ritual markings, unknown even to Ioh; they flickered faintly, as if shivering at his approach.

To the left of the orb, seemingly moved by someone, a piece of marble carved with a chisel bore a secret message, written in Latin:

"Tres portas transibis ad solvenda vincula,

Antiquae umbrae animam tuam temptabunt:

Primum, invenies librum ex cineribus veterum magorum ortum –

ipse solus verba servat quae somnum saxorum texuerunt.

Deinde, excitabis sigillum quod alte dormit –

nam sola eius potestas vincula frangere potest.

Sed festina, nam cum umbra annorum sextum decimum horam numerabit,

tum solum somnus non erit sepulcrum."

Ioh copied the message onto a piece of paper, then cast one more glance at the boy trapped inside the orb and, with barely audible steps, vanished from the room, leaving behind only his shadow.

Meanwhile, at the scouts' meeting place, Nira, her heart heavy as stone, stared into the void. Only one scout remained — Paleș… For a moment, the woman felt her will to live slip away.

But Paleș, his voice carrying a last hope, lifted his gaze to the woman:

— I will go search again, Nira! On my way… I heard rumors: two twins who bear the Titans' seal still live. They… they could help us!

Those words sparked in the woman's soul like an ember rekindled. A flicker of hope lit her eyes, but her voice remained grave, still carrying the weight of doubt:

— Even if we find the twins with the seal… the road to awaken Lord Dacus will still be long…

In the manor, Ioh had returned to his room and saw Nira and the scout entering through the door. Ioh carefully took out the piece of paper he had hidden. The hunter softly translated the message from the old marble and began to read:

"Three gates you shall cross for liberation,

Ancient shadows will test your soul:

First, find the book born from the ashes of ancient healers –

only it holds the words that wove the stone sleep.

Then, awaken the seal that sleeps deep –

for only with its power can you weaken the chains.

But hasten your steps, for when the shadow of years counts the sixteenth hour,

only then will sleep not become a grave."

The words echoed in his soul. Ioh thought to himself:

— It is… a riddle…

And with this discovery, another resolve ignited inside him:

— I must awaken this child from his slumber, so I can go further on the path I have chosen.

Without hesitation, Ioh carefully folded the paper and hid it in his sword's scabbard. From the other room, thin, frightened cries could be heard. Luc and Nicolai had awakened, crying for food. Nira flinched at the sound of their cries, and any dark thought fled. She brought a clay pitcher full of fresh milk to soothe their hunger. The children drank the milk greedily, and for a few moments, the room filled with a fragile calm.

Watching in silence, Ioh asked in a low voice, so as not to scare the children:

— Lord Dacus… does he truly sleep an eternal slumber?

Nira looked at him sadly:

— Yes… he sleeps peacefully… and I don't think he will awaken anytime soon… — she answered, with a bitterness that even she couldn't hide.

After the twins were fed and calmed, the woman, in a commanding voice, turned to Paleș:

— Rest now. In three days, be ready to depart again.

The scout bowed his head, his hands trembling with loyalty, and left to find rest. And after those three days, at dawn, he set out again on the road, with quick steps, walking among shadows, determined to bring back hope.

Weeks passed, and Ioh meditated on the riddle, slowly starting to find answers:

"Three gates you shall cross for liberation…" — he told himself, trying to penetrate its secret. "Three trials… three steps that must be taken to break the chains of slumber."

"Ancient shadows will test your soul…" — he whispered, realizing that the answer lay hidden in the past, a past he must know and understand;

"First, find the book born from the ashes of ancient healers – only it holds the words that wove the stone sleep." — it related to the first trial, most likely an ancient book.

"Then, awaken the seal that sleeps deep – for only with its power can you weaken the chains" — the second trial. "But what is this seal? Where do I find it?" — Ioh asked himself, searching for an answer.

"But hasten your steps…" — he repeated to himself like a dark echo, understanding that time is the most merciless enemy.

Ioh tried with all his might to understand the riddle, but lacked some key information. At the same time, Nira also sought another solution; she felt that there was not much time left — in nine months, it would be sixteen years since Dacus had been trapped inside the orb.

Hours turned into days. Days turned into months. And so, half a year passed since Ioh, along with the twins, had stayed in the manor of Sleeping Dacus. Time passed, the little ones grew, and Nira became ever more desperate. The scout had still not returned with any information.

One gray morning, the fourth day of the week, in the distance, a trail of dust cut across the horizon. The woman lifted her gaze, feeling a fragile hope. The moment grew heavy, and the scout's steps echoed ever closer. Paleș arrived and fell to his knees, his eyes sad as rainclouds:

— Lady Nira… I come with sad news again… The twins who bore the Titans' seal have disappeared. For almost two years, nothing has been heard of them. I crossed inns and taverns, passed through valleys and hills, but nothing… It is said they were kidnapped by a hunter… no one knows more.

The woman lowered her heavy head, her gaze emptying, and his steps toward the manor were heavy, as if every moment held him back. From the window of the room, Ioh saw her. In her eyes, he saw a dull pain, a helplessness that made him clench his fists.

In the hunter's soul, the riddle gave him no peace; his nature urged him to unravel this mystery as soon as possible.

Determined, the hunter wrapped the twins in a cloak, then strapped his sword to his back, adjusted his hat on his forehead, and step by step descended the stairs, ready to speak with Nira and ask her about the riddle… and about the hidden truth behind Sleeping Dacus.

Luc and Nicolai were already almost two years old. They understood words, and were even starting to grasp the meaning of some short sentences. Slowly, they crawled across the cold floors, something Ioh wasn't at all used to. He didn't really know how to take care of children, but with clumsy steps and a heart full of care, he managed to guide them on the right path. Soon after they settled in the manor of Sleeping Dacus, the fragile babbling of the twins turned into attempts to say words: "Iioooo...hhhhh", "Ioooo...h". Fragile fragments of a name… a name the little ones longed to say: Ioh.

For them, he had become more than just a protector. He was a father, even if blood did not bind them — the man who watched over their sleep and guarded their steps.

Then came the first bold movements. They no longer wanted to be swaddled too much, seeking, with their eyes and little bodies, the presence of Ioh. Nicolai, the braver one, spoke his first word and took his first step, while Luc, though more hesitant, followed him with wide eyes, full of light. Thus, slowly and without hurry, the twins grew… and in the hunter's heart grew a feeling he didn't even know he could have.

Nira stepped into the room. At the heavy oak table, Ioh was waiting, his back straight and gaze cold, like a drawn blade. The woman saw him, and with a voice that tried to hide her pain, said:

— I see you wish to talk… I've felt for some time that you carry a question inside you.

— Yes, I want you to tell me everything. I want to hear the whole story, Nira. — answered Ioh, who would not accept refusal.

Nira sighed deeply, then sat at the table, her gaze fixed on Ioh:

— Then let us begin…

In a low but clear voice, the woman began to reveal her old secret, the Story of Sleeping Dacus:

"I am Nira, a woman who was given the gift of understanding and the power to see into the future. I have lived for many decades, like a few other rare beings who still wander these lands. I am an old acquaintance of the Guild of the Hawks. Alongside me in this area once lived seven scouts, and of the last three scouts sent, only one returned — Paleș, the scout with the bear fur. Lord Dacus… is the last survivor of an old clan of guardians from Western Transylvania. For nearly sixteen years, Dacus has lain in deep sleep, a hibernation into which he was placed by his own father, Get. In three months, these sixteen years will be fulfilled.

This place, the manor, is not just any place. It is the secret bastion of the Guild of the Hawks, known only to them. A guild of guardians, who were forced for centuries to serve the Great Vampire Vlah, the merciless king of the western part of Transylvania.

By the old vampire law given by Vlah himself, each human family had to offer as tribute a sixteen-year-old child once every five years. And as fate would have it, the turn of Dacus' family came to pay the price imposed by law… But Get, his father, refused to pay and chose to defy the king's command."

Nira lowered her forehead toward the floor, her voice thick with memories:

"Dacus, the young man with a heart of iron, wanted to go willingly. He offered his life so the Guild could flourish. But Get could not bear to lose him. With cunning, he deceived his son, brought him here… and, with his last strength, sealed him inside that ancient orb, leaving behind a riddle — only solving the riddle could break the chains keeping him captive in this eternal slumber. His father asked only this of me: to be the guardian of this place. To keep him safe from vampire thirst and from strange and evil eyes. I promised I would protect the young man and find the answer to the riddle."

The woman lifted her eyes to Ioh, her gaze shadowed by guilt:

"But the truth… the truth is that, for a long time, the shadows of the dead have haunted him. I felt them… I saw them. But I didn't have the courage to tell anyone. Get returned to Vlah, trying to make him renounce that cruel law. But the king refused with cruelty. He ordered every member of the Guild of the Hawks to be killed by his most feared executioners — the Sons of Darkness."

Nira sighed, and her voice softened, carrying an old sorrow:

"You know… I watched over Dacus for so many years. Since he was just a baby, Get would often bring him here, to the manor… to calm him, hoping he would never lose him. I saw him sleeping, dreaming, his face still carrying the peace of childhood."

Her eyes now glistened, shadowed by bitterness:

"Why do I want to save him? Because he is just a child… a child who never truly got to be a child. Knowing him now, trapped, prisoner in an enchanted sleep, eats me up inside…"

The woman drew a deep breath, as if the weight of her words pressed upon her:

"And so the story of Sleeping Dacus was born… a child hidden from death, locked inside the heart of a riddle."

Ioh now saw, through the woman's words, a few clear answers that had previously slipped through his fingers. Luc and Nicolai, fascinated by the story, murmured softly, twisting the syllables of a name they didn't fully understand:

— Daacusss…

Ioh felt the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, and the twins, with their babbling and innocence, pushed him further. Knowing that only three months remained, the hunter, together with Nira, began to piece together the threads of the riddle, writing each verse on paper. Ioh read aloud and firmly:

"Three gates you shall cross for liberation,

Ancient shadows will test your soul."

— Clearly… I must pass three trials, — said Ioh, convinced.

The woman nodded silently.

The first trial appears in the second verse, Nira said, her voice firm:

"First, find the book born from the ashes of ancient healers –

only it holds the words that wove the stone sleep."

— It speaks of a book… but what kind of book? — asked Ioh, slightly puzzled.

— The book from which the incantation was spoken that sealed Dacus, — answered Nira, who understood in a moment.

— And where is this book now?

— In the eastern wing of the library in the Church of Saint Corvin, in the south of Moldova, near the border with Wallachia. After the Great Pact, the book was restored and hidden by Catholic priests. And it is guarded by the Seraphim of Silence, an assault troop sent by the Pope himself…

Nira spoke the last words with a shadow of fear in her voice, but Ioh smiled calmly:

— Don't worry. I'll go after it. The Seraphim of Silence aren't the only ones who have influence over the Catholic Church.

He also wrote down the third verse:

"Then, awaken the seal that sleeps deep –

for only with its power can you weaken the chains."

— For this trial… — the woman began, her voice low, — we need someone with an old, powerful seal that can break the curse. But through the scouts' paths… no one was found… The only ones said to have such a seal were twins… but they were kidnapped by a hunter.

Ioh lowered his gaze, lost in thought for a moment, then lifted it, smiling:

— The twins are here, right beside us. Luc and Nicolai. And I am the hunter who saved them, not the one who stole them. Ronan the Blind told me they bear the Seal of the Titans.

— You know… — she whispered, her voice trembling, — you really have deciphered it…

— Yes. It was right under my nose. But I needed your voice to see it clearly; sometimes you must step back to see the whole picture.

— True… — Nira sighed, — I always felt those two children hid something… The shadow of their future was always unseen to me.

— My God… — she breathed out, with a mix of joy, — this means we still have our chance.

Ioh noted down the final verse:

"But hasten your steps, for when the shadow of years counts the sixteenth hour, only then will sleep not become a grave."

— It's about time, — he said. — We have only until the sixteenth anniversary of when Dacus was sealed.

Thus, the answers to the riddle came together, and in the silence of the room, the first threads of hope took shape. The woman could no longer hold back:

— After so many years of shadows and waiting… Dacus can awaken, — she said, her voice cracked by an emotion she hadn't felt in a long time.

Ioh stepped closer, his fists clenched. His shadow stretched on the wall, monstrous, devouring the light.

— Now we know how to wake him, he said as he looked out the window, where the full moon shone.

Nira pulled out an old, yellowed map and showed him the way: from the manor, through Wallachia and down to the south of Moldova, where the Church of Saint Corvin was located. On the map, the three great nations divided by a blood-drawn border: Transylvania, Moldova, and Wallachia — but Wallachia was broken in two: West and East.

Ioh calculated quickly: the journey would take him almost five days if he rode without stopping.

— Before sunrise, I will leave. Prepare me a horse… the fastest you have, — Ioh said in haste.

— So I shall, — Nira replied at once.

In the quiet of the night, Ioh took the twins to their room, laid them gently in their cradle, and softly whispered:

— I must leave for a short while… to recover a book, to save another child, a child as innocent as you. I need your help when I return. Please… wait for me.

Luc and Nicolai burst into tears; just the words "without you" troubled them to their core. Ioh once again placed the round warding bead to protect the little ones, and after it began to pulse, he stepped back. Luc and Nicolai calmed down and waved at him, babbling:

— Ioh… hhh…

When dawn began to paint the sky, the woman awaited him in the courtyard. Beside him, a large black horse, its armor gleaming in the first rays of morning — a horse only kings and emperors could ride.

Ioh climbed into the saddle, tightened his cloak around his shoulders, and looked toward the horizon. Without looking back, he set off: toward the Church of Saint Corvin.