Chapter 61 To the crypts
Night fell like a shroud. The corridors were empty, the guards shifts to recharge. Octavio had known the castle’s rotations for decades, noting when the magical wards flickered, when Raven’s spies were less attentive. Every step was calculated, every breath was measured.
Evyths felt a presence, light yet calculated materialize in the cell.
“Duke?” She said quietly.
He touched Evyths’ shoulder. “We leave now. Quietly. Follow me exactly.”
She nodded. Her heartbeat thumping, but her resolve remained.
The first doors were simple; wards that shimmered faintly in the darkness. Octavio muttered a phrase under his breath. The runes dissolved, leaving the lock bare. He gestured for her to move forward.
As they crept through the hallways, the sound of her soft footsteps echoed like a drumbeat in her chest. No shadows, just hers, every corner could hide a spy or a trap.
They reached the edge of the castle’s inner sanctum, where Raven’s personal guards patrolled in small groups. Octavio held up a hand. “We wait for the next rotation.”
Minutes stretched, each tick of time pounding against her ears. Evyths’ palms were clammy, fingers twitching against the sword she had borrowed from a fallen guard. Her mind wandered briefly: what if Raven was waiting? What if Valerio…?
Octavio caught her glance. “Do not think hard. One step at a time. Focus. Breathe.”
The guards shifted, leaving an open path. Octavio motioned. They slipped through the shadows, avoiding detection. The hallways narrowed, leading to the ancient service corridors—the ones few dared tread, lined with stone so old it seemed alive.
Suddenly, a whisper of magic brushed past their skin—a faint warning spell. Octavio paused, ears alert. “Raven knows we’re moving. We must be faster.”
Evyths gritted her teeth. Fear and adrenaline collided, sharpening her senses. Every heartbeat was a drum. Every step a challenge.
…
They emerged into the moonlit courtyard. The castle’s walls loomed overhead, silent guardians, freedom. Octavio led her to a side gate, covered in shadows and concealed by a vine-draped arch. He muttered another phrase, the ancient runes glowing briefly before dissolving into the night.
They slipped into the Pelnia forest. Trees rose like silent sentinels, their leaves whispering secrets to the wind. Octavio guided her along, hidden, away from the city, away from the castle’s prying eyes.
Hours passed. Every crack of a branch, every distant howl, was amplified in the calmness. Evyths felt exhaustion clawing at her, but she forced herself to keep moving. Octavio never faltered, his focus firm.
A thought clutched Evthys, she had always wanted to ask and this was the opportunity.
“Your grace?”
“Speak, Evthys.”
“What about Lady Crystal? She's been locked away in the laboratory. Can she make it out?” Evthys' words fell silent, her thoughts flew back to the moment.
Octavio was unfazed, slightly narrowed his gaze at her. “She's hibernating,”
Evthys' eyes widened. “Hibernating? Vampires can do that?”
“Yes, if we feel… pressured or mourning!” His words were quiet, his gaze pensive.
“I see. And you…” she stared at him carefully. “Have you mourned?”
He gaped at her dangerously, maybe she shouldn't hate asked.
“I don't mourn what's without a heart beat.” He said. “Which is why Valerio must live.”
His gaze was pained, as if she brought back damning memories. The rest of walk continued in silence, at least, she knew that Crystal wasn't in danger.
Eventually, the edge of the city’s forbidden lands appeared—a rocky path that led to the crypts where Valerio had been laid to rest.
Octavio’s eyes narrowed. “We’re close,” he whispered under his breath. “But we’re not safe yet. Raven will try to stop us.”
As if on cue, the air shifted. A cold wind spiraled, unnatural, carrying a faint echo of laughter that made Evyths’ blood run cold.
Raven.
“She knows,” Evyths whispered.
Octavio’s hand tightened around hers. “Good. That means we are on time. We expected this.”
From the shadows, Raven appeared, her gown flowing like smoke, eyes burning dark with fury. “Going somewhere, Duke? And you,” she hissed, glancing at Evyths, “will not escape your fate.”
Evyths stiffened, instinctively drawing the sword Octavio had given her.
Octavio stepped in front of her, sword in hand. “Back, Raven. This ends here, and it ends tonight. Let us through.”
Raven’s eyes narrowed. With a flick of her wrist, dark tendrils of sorcery shot toward them. Octavio’s sword glowed faintly, and he met the spell with a controlled deflection. Sparks flew as magic collided with ancient steel.
Evyths’ heart raced. “Octavio… what do we do?”
“We fight. But carefully. Follow my lead.”
They moved fluidly, dodging attacks and countering where they could. Raven’s magic twisted the night air into sharp, slicing currents. Evyths discovered she could anticipate the next wave of dark energy—her vision flaring with flashes of possible outcomes. Each glimpse gave her a fraction of a second advantage to take.
The outskirts of the forest became a battlefield of shadows and moonlight. Leaves caught fire from stray sparks, the scent of ozone sharp in the night air.
Octavio moved forward, intercepting another strike aimed at Evyths. “Keep moving! The crypts are just beyond the ridge!”
They ran, twisting through the forest, evading traps and illusions conjured by Raven. Her laughter followed them, high and cold, echoing in the trees like a prophecy of doom.
Finally, the ridge came into view. Below, the crypt’s entrance stretched like a stone maw, surrounded by the ruins of old guardians and long-forgotten wards.
Octavio scanned the expanse. “We need to descend carefully. Raven will anticipate our route, but the western shadows give us cover.”
Evyths nodded, gripping her sword tightly. The forest floor was slick, roots and stones threatening to trip her, but fear had been replaced by resolve. This is for Valerio.
Raven’s voice pierced the night again. “You cannot hide! You cannot cheat destiny!”
Octavio glanced at Evyths. “Ready?”
She nodded, vision sharp, heart steady. “Ready.”
They leapt into the shadows, moving with precision, weaving around wards and traps. Raven’s magic lashed out again, but Octavio and Evyths stayed ahead. Each step brought them closer to the crypts, closer to Valerio, closer to the impossible hope that the ritual could succeed.
Finally, they reached the base of the crypt. The ancient stone door loomed above them, engraved with sigils that pulsed faintly in the moonlight. Octavio muttered a phrase, tracing the runes with his hand. The door shuddered, then slowly creaked open.
Evyths exhaled, a mix of relief and fear. “We made it…”
Octavio’s gaze hardened. “The ritual begins now. Raven will come. We must finish this before dawn.”
The crypt swallowed them in.