The heavy silence still hung in the room when Cerys suddenly stood up, her footsteps echoing against the stone floor as she walked toward the pedestal where the egg rested. The object, with its iridescent scales pulsing with a faint glow, seemed to breathe under the dim torchlight. She held it firmly, feeling the strange warmth radiating through its rigid shell.
Cedric, watching her every move with sharp eyes, furrowed his brow as she turned toward the door.
— And where do you think you're going with that? — His voice cut through the silence like a blade, laced with suspicion.
Cerys stopped at the door, not turning around, but the coldness in her response was just as sharp as Cedric’s words.
— I’m going to Lilith’s chambers. — She declared, gripping the egg tighter. — I want to know what she knows about this and how they found it.
Thorne arched an eyebrow, stepping away from the wall where he had been leaning.
— Do you really think you can trust her? — His voice carried a tone of skepticism. — That woman is a mystery. Even if she helped, we don’t know her true intentions.
Cerys finally turned around, her eyes gleaming with cold determination.
— This isn’t about trust. — She replied firmly. — It’s about information. Lilith knows more than she’s letting on, and if we want to understand what we’re truly dealing with, we need her.
Cedric studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowing as if weighing her words. After a brief silence, he merely shook his head.
— Be careful not to let her poison you with her lies, Cerys. — He murmured, a cold smile playing on his lips.
Cerys didn’t reply. She simply turned away again and left, the sound of her footsteps fading until they disappeared entirely into the stone corridors. The egg in her hands seemed to pulse with increasing intensity with each step, as if it sensed that its destiny was drawing closer.
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Lilith’s chamber was a stark contrast to the rest of the castle. While Volcrist’s hallways were defined by the cold of dark stones and the austerity of flickering torches, the room Lilith occupied was shrouded in restless shadows and an oppressive heat. Candles were scattered throughout the chamber, most of them melted down to their base, forming small rivers of dried wax across the stone floor. The air was thick with the scent of burned herbs and a faint metallic tang—dried blood, perhaps.
Lilith was seated atop a pile of worn cushions, her long, disheveled hair cascading over her shoulders, her posture that of someone who saw no need to rise before Cerys. Her golden eyes glowed in the flickering candlelight as the blonde woman entered, holding the egg tightly against her chest.
Cerys wasted no time with courtesies. She shut the door behind her unceremoniously and stepped forward.
— How did you find this egg? And what does it have to do with Aemon? — Her voice was cold, direct, almost a challenge.
Lilith slowly lifted her gaze to meet Cerys’s, a brief, mocking smile playing on her lips before vanishing.
— That’s not something I can simply tell you. — Her voice was a whisper filled with secrets, each word deliberately drawn out. — It’s part of something much bigger. And if you want answers… well, then pray that Aemon survives.
Cerys narrowed her eyes, an involuntary chill running down her spine.
— The physician said he would survive. — She countered, her tone sharp. — He lost a lot of blood, but his life is no longer in danger.
Lilith let out a low, almost guttural laugh before leaning forward. The candlelight danced across her face, casting shadows over her angular features.
— Survive? — Her voice dripped with irony. — The question isn’t whether he’ll stay alive…
She gestured vaguely, her slender fingers playing with the air as if tracing something unseen.
— The real question is… how long his body will endure what you did.
Cerys frowned.
— What do you mean by that?
Lilith tilted her head, evaluating her with amusement and a touch of pity.
— The surge of power you gave him on the battlefield… — Her eyes gleamed with dark interest. — Humans weren’t made to carry such power without a cost. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a year… but something inside him will break. And when it does…
She smiled slowly.
— You’ll see it with your own eyes.
The silence that followed was almost tangible, thick as smoke. The dragon egg in Cerys’s hands pulsed, warm and alive, as if reacting to the tension between them.
Cerys held her posture rigid, her face unreadable, but something inside her twisted uneasily.
Aemon may have won the battle. He may have returned breathing.
But Lilith was right about one thing.
The true price had yet to be paid.