As they left the noisy tavern, satisfied with their meals, the bustling sounds of the city slowly faded behind them, replaced by the gentle hum of crickets. Silas breathed in the fresh air, feeling the day’s tension ease as the evening cooled around them.
Kie stretched her arms with an exaggerated sigh. “Ah, that was a little too much to drink,” she laughed. “I’ll need to cool down for a bit. But you lot, why don’t you take a walk around the Tranquility Garden? It’s not far from here, and you can let that feast settle while you take in the sunset.”
The suggestion piqued the group’s curiosity. Silas raised an eyebrow. “Tranquility Garden?”
Kie grinned mischievously. “Trust me, you’ll love it. Perfect place to walk off a meal.”
Rowan shrugged, and Layla seemed intrigued. Regina, still serene, offered a polite nod. “It sounds wonderful.”
With that, Kie waved them off, slipping away into the crowd as the group approached the garden. As they entered, they were greeted by rows of flowers in full bloom, illuminated by the soft glow of the setting sun. The air was fragrant, carrying the scent of jasmine and roses. They strolled along the paths, admiring the scenery and enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
“This is nice,” Layla commented, twirling a loose flower in her hand. “Kie wasn’t wrong.”
Walking beside Silas, Regina seemed absorbed in the place’s tranquillity. “It’s beautiful here,” she said softly, her gaze on the horizon where the sun dipped lower, painting the sky with hues of gold and purple.
Silas felt someone tug at his sleeve as the group continued their leisurely walk. Kie had reappeared as if from thin air, a cheeky grin plastered on her face. She handed him a small bundle—envelopes and a set of intricate masks. “Here you go,” she whispered. “The tickets and masks for the masquerade ball. It wasn’t cheap, you know. That’ll be twenty-two silver and fifty nine bronze coins. I expect full payment later.”
Silas blinked, caught off guard. “What…? Twenty-two silver and—”
Kie winked and interrupted him, “I need every coin, you hear me brat? Now, go enjoy the ball.”
Silas didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. This woman was relentless when it came to money. Pocketing the tickets and masks, he cleared his throat and addressed the group. “So, uh… I might have some tickets to a masquerade ball at Nightingale Palace. I figured we could go, you know, since we’re all together.”
Rowan raised an eyebrow, a sly grin spreading across his face. “Tickets to a ball? Looks like someone’s been planning ahead.”
Layla chimed in, laughing. “Extra tickets and masks too? I’m guessing someone who excused herself might have had a hand in this?”
Even Regina chuckled softly, clearly aware of the playful teasing. “It seems you’ve been well-prepared.”
Silas rubbed the back of his neck, quickly glancing at Kie, who merely hummed to herself, pretending innocence. “Well, I figured… why not make the most of the evening, right?”
“You all have fun. I’ve got better things to do than babysitting you in some ballroom,” Kie winked, slipping into the crowd with her usual catlike grace.
After a stunned silence at her quick departure, the group headed toward Nightingale Palace, where the masquerade ball was in full swing.
As they entered the grand hall, they saw nobles twirling gracefully across the dance floor, their movements elegant and precise. The room was aglow with chandeliers, and the atmosphere was filled with soft music and the rustle of silk gowns and fine suits.
Silas’s confidence, however, wavered. Watching the couples move through intricate steps, he felt his stomach knot. “Uh… that looks way more complicated than I thought,” he muttered, glancing over at Rowan.
Rowan was in a similar state, his face pale. “Yeah… I mean, I’ve never done anything like this before. Growing up as a merchant’s son doesn’t exactly prepare you for noble dances.”
Silas nodded in agreement. “And my father never liked these kinds of events. I’ve got no experience.”
To their surprise, Regina joined them, her usual composed demeanour slightly cracked by a sheepish smile. “I… don’t know how to dance either. I’ve never really participated in these sorts of events.”
Layla giggled, stepping forward. “Well, lucky for you, I do.” She winked at Regina before turning to Rowan and Silas. “I can show you the basics. It’s not as hard as it looks.”
Under Layla’s patient guidance, the group learned the basic steps. Regina, who was initially unsure, picked it up quickly, and her natural grace came through. Soon enough, Regina and Layla were teaching Silas and Rowan, guiding them through the simple movements.
Regina’s steps were fluid as they danced, but her eyes occasionally flicked toward Silas, curiosity dancing behind her usual calm. “You’re surprisingly good at this,” she remarked, though the faintest smile betrayed her thoughts.
As the music swelled, the four of them moved across the dance floor, laughter bubbling between them as they occasionally stumbled or stepped out of rhythm. Despite the initial nervousness, the evening flowed with ease. They shared stories and smiles.
For Silas, the night felt surreal—here he was, dancing in a grand palace under the soft glow of chandeliers with his friends, and alongside Regina, no less. He caught her eye as they spun across the floor, and she gave him a warm, almost teasing smile.
“Not so bad, right?” she asked.
He grinned, a little breathless. “Not bad at all.”
The night continued, filled with joy, music, and the camaraderie that made every moment feel special. Even Silas, who had started the evening feeling out of his element, couldn’t help but get caught up in the magic of it all.
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The grand masquerade began to wind down as the night drew to a close. The music softened, and the once-crowded dance floor was now filled with couples enjoying the final moments of the evening. Silas, Rowan, Layla, and Regina stepped out of the ballroom, their faces lit with smiles and laughter still lingering in the air.
“That was… surprisingly fun,” Silas admitted, his voice light as he stretched. “For something I was completely unprepared for.”
Layla chuckled, playfully nudging him. “You’re a fast learner. Who knew you had dancing talent?”
Rowan smirked, looking at Silas. “Well, you survived. Barely.”
Regina smiled gently, her eyes warm as she looked at the group. “Thank you all for tonight. It was a wonderful experience. I enjoyed the day—the tour, the company, and even the ball. I haven’t laughed like this in a long time.”
Her words brought a soft, satisfied silence between them, each reflecting on the day’s events.
Regina suddenly turned back to the group as they began to part ways for the night. “Before we say goodbye, I wanted to ask you all something.”
The others paused, curious.
“There’s an auction being held here in Amberheart in three days,” Regina said. “I’ve been invited to attend, and I thought… if you’d like, I could bring you along. It could be another chance for us to spend time together and see something interesting.”
Rowan’s eyes lit up with interest. “An auction? That sounds fascinating.”
Layla nodded, smiling. “I’m in. I’ve never been to one before.”
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Silas grinned. “Sounds like fun. Count me in.”
With their agreement, the group said their goodbyes, promising to meet again soon. Silas waved them off as he made his way toward Lonestar Manor, his thoughts swirling from the unexpected twists the day had brought. Rowan and Layla strolled off toward Rowan’s home, still chatting and laughing about their dance mishaps. Regina, meanwhile, headed back in the direction of the Royal Palace.
As Regina made her way through the quiet streets of Amberheart, the sounds of the city fading into the distance, a familiar presence appeared beside her. Kie, ever the shadow, slipped into step with her, a mischievous grin already tugging at her lips.
“So,” Kie asked, her tone light but curious, “what do you think? About them.”
Regina took a moment before answering, her expression thoughtful. “I’m not sure about the other two,” she said slowly, her eyes drifting toward the stars above. “But Silas… he’s definitely one of them. Nexus Ambrosia flows through his veins. Although, it might be a bit impure. It seems that the bloodline has degraded… But it should still be the top tier in the present times.”
Kie was silent for a moment, “So, that part of the prophecy is accurate…” After a brief silence, a glint of pride rekindled her eyes. “He is her son, after all, that is enough to be a crane among a flock of chickens. Not to mention his bloodline.”
Regina nodded, her gaze still distant. “He’s a good kid. An Interesting one too. There’s something about him that stands out, even if we don't mention his bloodline.”
Kie’s chuckled as she nudged Regina playfully. “Well, of course, he’s exceptional. He’s the son of the person I respect the most. He’s bound to be a good guy. In fact,” Kie leaned in closer, her voice dropping into a teasing whisper, “I’d say he’d make a perfect groom. I can even arrange marriage talks if you want.”
Regina burst into laughter, the sound echoing softly in the still night. Without warning, she playfully slapped the back of Kie’s head. “Don’t tease your big sister like that!”
Kie grumbled, rubbing the spot where Regina had hit her, though the grin never left her face. “Big sister, huh? Well, I might be younger, but let’s not forget I have way more experience than you.”
Regina laughed again, nodding in agreement. “That’s true,” she admitted, her laughter softening into a warm smile. “And… how goes your treatment of Leifstein Remington?” Regina asked with a knowing chuckle.
Kie’s grin grew wider, her eyes gleaming with mischievous delight. “Oh, it’s going perfectly. I’m weakening him slowly—just enough to keep him bedridden, but not so much that anyone suspects foul play. He’s becoming a shadow of himself.” She leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “I’ve been giving him the right potions—just the wrong dosages. It’s all subtle, of course. A little too little of the cure here, a bit of an irritant there. It keeps him coming back, desperate for relief but never fully getting better.”
Regina’s smile turned curious. “And what exactly are you using on him?”
“Well... I’ve switched out some ingredients in his potions with ones that cause fatigue and strain over time. Harmless, if you don’t know what to look for. He thinks he’s just not responding well to the treatment.” Kie’s grin twisted into a sly smirk.
Regina raised a brow, impressed. “You sly fox. No wonder he hasn’t noticed.”
Kie leaned back, a smug look of satisfaction on her face. “The best part? I’ve been manipulating his symptoms. Giving him subtle herbs that induce fevers and chronic fatigue, leaving him bedridden for days at a time. He’s convinced his condition is worse than it is, and his confidence is crumbling along with his health.”
Regina’s eyes gleamed with quiet approval, her voice soft but carrying a hint of warning. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Kie. But it’s your personal matter. If something goes wrong, I’ll help you.”
Kie’s smirk didn’t falter. “I don’t need help. Not yet. But I’ll keep that in mind.”
Regina chuckled softly, shaking her head. “Do as you wish, then.”
“Don’t worry,” Kie said, her tone playful but deadly. “I plan to enjoy every minute of watching him fall… All while he pays me to do it.”
As the two women walked together, their conversation fading into the distance, the moonlight cast their silhouettes against the cobblestone streets, disappearing into the city’s shadows as Amberheart slept peacefully. Any person belonging to Amberfell would have been horrified at this conversation, as Leifstien Remington was the head of the Remington Clan and the King of Amberfell.
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Lian Chen arrived at Darkwood Hollow about a week after departing Amberheart, Kael Sanguis was at his side. The mercenaries Lian Chen had gathered travelled with them in silence, a diverse crew of hardened fighters whose presence was meant to provide protection should things take a turn for the worse. The Elders’ investigation team had already passed through, but Lian Chen preferred to do his own digging—relying on official reports was not in his nature. If there was more to the story, he would find it.
“Form a perimeter,” Lian ordered without hesitation. His voice was low, but the mercenaries obeyed without question, knowing better than to doubt his instincts.
Kael glanced around, his sharp eyes scanning the twisted trees and the overbearing stillness of the sanctuary. “This place… it feels wrong,” he muttered, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his sword.
“You’ll need to get used to it,” Lian said without looking back. “Malice like this has a way of creeping into every corner.”
The air in the sanctuary hung thick and still, as though time itself had been trapped here. Every step they took echoed in the silence, the walls seeming to close in with each passing second.
They approached the hidden chamber carefully, the mercenaries stationed around the entrance as sentinels. When they entered the inner sanctum, the metallic stench of dried blood clung to the walls, and the rotting stench of the bodies assaulted his senses, though both of them remained unfazed. Both Kael and Lian had seen their fair share of bloodshed and rotting corpses.
The goblet had been shattered—Silas's handiwork, no doubt. While most of the collected blood had been incinerated, splashes still stained the chamber floor, crimson droplets scattered across the stone where the goblet had burst.
Lian Chen crouched low, his sharp eyes tracing the blood's path. His fingers hovered just above the dried pool before lightly brushing the surface. Despite the time that had passed, the blood retained its vibrant hue, unnervingly fresh, as though it had only recently spilt. His brow furrowed. "Refined blood..." he muttered. This wasn't the work of an average lunatic. There was something deeper at play here, which held far more sinister potential.
Kael stood at his side, surveying the room with quiet vigilance. He glanced at the blood. "It hasn't fully dried," he noted. "Is that normal for a ritual like this?"
"No," Lian shook his head. "The blood should have darkened and lost its potency. This blood, however, has been altered and purified in a way we can't understand. Usually, to refine blood and make it resistant to a particular disease, medicine is made from selective herbs and bone marrow from beasts. But this blood... its potency is frightening—unlike anything I've ever seen or heard of."
He rose slowly, letting his eyes drift across the chamber. His gaze settled next to the melted remains of a wooden sculpture near the altar. Curiosity gleamed in his eyes as he examined the odd material. He knelt, running his fingers along the melted edge. "Made of wood... yet it melts. Strange."
Kael approached, observing the bizarre texture. "Wood shouldn't melt, even under intense heat. What kind of magic could do that?"
"Is it even magic? At least I've never heard of magic like this." Lian replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully. The wood wasn't charred—it had warped and deformed as though some unnatural force had reduced it to this bizarre, malleable state. "This wood... it's infused with something beyond ordinary. It's almost like it is... alive, or once was."
He stood, letting the melted remains fall from his hand as he looked over the room again. His thoughts began to churn, piecing together fragments of a far older, darker history. Something tugged at his memory—a tale buried in the deepest corners of ancient texts.
"This isn't just the work of a lunatic going crazy," Lian said, his voice dropping as the realisation hit him. "It's something ancient, something whispered about in the darker annals of history. The refined blood, the melted wood, the cursed goblet are part of something bigger."
Kael crossed his arms, a hard edge to his tone. "What do you mean by 'bigger'? What are we dealing with here?"
Lian turned toward him, his eyes narrowing. "There's an old story I came across long ago—about unexplained deaths, a strange ritual, and a corpse that came back to life. The signs were all there—refined blood, unnatural sacrifices, and something that defied death itself. But... whatever instigated it was never caught."
"You think the same thing is happening now?" Kael asked, his voice growing colder.
"I'm not sure yet," Lian replied, pacing the chamber as he pieced together the mystery. "But the similarities are too strong to ignore. Whatever they were doing here, it's not just about power—it's about control, maybe even resurrection. And we've already seen one corpse return."
Kael nodded. "Hmm, even if it's all guesswork for now... we need to be prepared."
Lian Chen nodded grimly. "The Elders' investigation likely didn't uncover the full scope of what's happening here. They may have written it off as the actions of a madman, but this... this is deeper. They barely scratched the surface."
He stared at the walls, frustration gnawing at him. They were missing something—an important piece of the puzzle. But whatever it was, the chamber wasn't revealing it. Not yet, at least.
"We'll head back to Amberheart," Lian said, at last, his voice curt. He glanced at Kael, his expression serious. "We need to regroup and report this to the War Master. There's something darker at work here, something far from over. And we might be running out of time."
Kael responded with a curt nod, his face grim but determined.
As they left the cursed hollow, the mercenaries fell into step behind them. The atmosphere was oppressive, and the weight of the discovery hung over them like a shadow. Lian Chen cast one last look over his shoulder at the darkened sanctuary. The chill that ran down his spine was unmistakable.
Lian Chen’s fists clenched unconsciously. "Dark times might be waiting for us," he whispered, more to himself than to anyone else. He could feel it—an invisible storm gathering on the horizon. And when it came, they might all be standing on the edge of something far worse than they could imagine.