Chapter 112 -Caylix-

Chapter 112 -Caylix-
\-Caylix-

He gives me a confused look but says nothing. Behind us, the pursuit grows louder.

"After them!"

Caylix.

Erik again.

The servants' passage ends ahead. Turn right.

I do.

Now left.

Another sharp turn. The shouting grows more distant.

They'll expect you to take the staircase.

I spot it ahead.

Don't.

Without breaking stride, I veer into a narrow side corridor barely wide enough for two men. 

"What is happening?" The guard whispers behind me.

"I'll explain later."

The palace twists around us like a maze. Every corridor looks the same, every doorway identical, yet Erik guides me through them without hesitation.

Straight ahead. Ignore the first door. Take the second.

The certainty in his voice never wavers. He knows, these halls raised him.

Stop!

His voice cracks through the tether with such force that I obey before I even think. The guard nearly runs into me.

"What?"

Three more steps.

My pulse pounds.

Trust me, Caylix.

Erik's voice is calm again.

Look to your right.

My eyes sweep across the stone wall.

I see nothing, just another corridor.

Do you see the blue tapestry?

Half hidden between two suits of ceremonial armor hangs a faded blue tapestry, its colors muted by decades of dust.

The third torch beside it… Pull it.

I reach for the iron bracket and give it a hard tug. A deep click echoes somewhere inside the wall. The stone beside the tapestry shudders before slowly sliding inward, revealing a narrow passage no wider than my shoulders.

The guard's eyes widen.

"I've served in this palace for years, and I never knew that was there."

A faint smile tugs at the corner of my mouth. Behind us, voices grow louder.

"They couldn't have vanished!"

"Search every corridor!"

I motion for the guard to follow me inside.

"Go."

He disappears into the darkness without another question. I take one last glance over my shoulder. Guards spill around the corner we'd abandoned moments before.

One of them points.

"There!"

I step through the opening.

The hidden door grinds shut just as boots thunder toward it. The corridor falls silent. Only our breathing fills the darkness.

Thank you, father… 

Well done, my son. 

His voice is full of pride. My son… I hadn't realized how much I needed to hear it. I rest my hand against the cold stone wall, letting out a slow breath. Warmth ripples through the tether.

Not just from Erik but from Avi as well.

She's still there, still with me.

Always. 

A smile finds me in the darkness.

Always.

The smile lingers only a moment before the silence settles around us once more. The passage stretches endlessly ahead, lit only by the occasional shaft of pale light filtering through cracks in the ancient stone above.

The guard finally exhales. "I've never seen anything like that."

"Neither have I."

He laughs.

"I wasn't talking about the hidden door."

My brow furrows.

"You weren't?"

He shakes his head.

"You can speak to your wife through your thoughts..."

He smiles slowly, still trying to process what he'd witnessed.

"...and somehow she connected you to King Erik."

His expression is one of genuine awe.

"Remarkable."

A smile forms on my mouth.

"My wife has a habit of doing remarkable things."

He chuckles quietly.

"I think the two of you are going to change the world."

The words linger between us. I don't answer.

Not because I disagree, but because I think we just might. We continue through the narrow passage in silence. The walls become rough beneath my fingertips, the carefully carved palace stone giving way to the mountain itself. Something stirs inside me. Faint and almost impossible to notice. I stop walking.

The guard takes another step before realizing I've stopped.

"What is it?"

I don't answer. Instead, I place my palm flat against the rock. It’s cold, solid and ancient. Then I feel it… A vibration. So subtle I almost convince myself I’m imagining it. It travels through the stone and into my hand like the faintest pulse. Another follows, then another. It’s not words, not memories, but something like recognition. The mountain is alive. Not in the way Caeltharian truth magic lives, this is older.  I close my eyes as I let my own magic reach toward it. The sensation is immediate. The stone answers. Not with power but with welcome.

My eyes open.

The guard is watching me carefully.

"What happened?"

I slowly lower my hand from the wall.

"I don't know."

I glance deeper into the passage disappearing beneath the palace.

"But I don't think Veylan ever forgot me."

The guard doesn't answer. He just inclines his head. We continue through the passage, our footsteps echoing softly against the ancient stone. 

"This wasn't built with the palace," the guard murmurs.

I trail my fingertips lightly across the stone as we walk. "It feels older."

"It is." His voice lowers almost reverently. "These passages were here before the palace itself."

I glance toward him.

"My grandfather used to say the first kings built into the mountain because they believed the earth itself protected Veylan."

A faint warmth stirs beneath my palm. Almost like an answering heartbeat. The passage widens unexpectedly before opening into a vast circular chamber. I stop without thinking. The room is breathtaking.

The ceiling disappears into darkness high above us, supported by enormous stone pillars carved directly from the mountain itself. Between each pillar stands a life-sized statue.

Kings.

Dozens of them. Every face is different and every posture is unique. Time itself seems to have gathered here. The guard removes his gloves almost instinctively before stepping into the chamber.

"The Hall of Kings." His voice is barely above a whisper. "I've never seen it."

"You've never been here?"

He shakes his head.

"Very few have."

Slowly, I walk to the nearest statue. Beneath the king's name are five runes, each one carved with incredible precision. Below them, lines of carefully etched stone record the milestones of his reign.

United the Eastern Clans.

Ended the Winter Famine.

Forged the Treaty of Stonewatch.

History carved into the mountain itself. I move to the next king. Six runes. Another has seven. Another has five. Each king remembered not for the crown he wore… But for what he gave his people.

The guard joins me.

"When a king is crowned, the masons begin his place in the Hall."

I study the newest statue at the far end of the chamber.

King Erik.

The likeness is uncanny. His expression is calm. His nine runes are carved beneath his name, each one identical to those etched across his back.

Below them...

His accomplishments. The stone ends abruptly. Blank space remains beneath the final inscription. His reign isn't finished and neither is his story.

I stand there for a long moment, unable to look away. Then my eyes drift beyond him. The mountain wall simply continues. Smooth, uncarved, and waiting for history to decide what comes next.