15. Dante
15
Dante
D ante leaned closer to the inscription, tracing the jagged lines with his fingertips. The worn carvings felt cool under his touch, their grooves telling a story he couldn’t quite piece together. The air in the chamber carried a strange weight, heavy with magic and something unspoken. He kept his focus on the ancient text, using it as a shield against the other presence in the room.
Sebastian crouched beside him as he examined the upper portion of the pillar. “There’s more of it here,” he said, gesturing to the markings just out of his reach.
Dante shifted to get a better look, his shoulder brushing against Sebastian’s arm. The contact was brief, but the charge between them sparked like flint against steel. He froze for half a beat, his breath catching as heat climbed up his neck. “Sorry,” he muttered, moving back.
Sebastian didn’t move away. Instead, he tilted his head, his silver-gray eyes lingering on his profile. “You don’t have to keep apologizing, you know.”
Dante clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. “I wasn’t—”
“You were,” Sebastian interrupted, softer than Dante expected. “And I get it.”
Dante finally looked at him, his amber eyes narrowing. “Do you?”
Sebastian leaned back, studying him with an intensity that made his chest tighten. “I think so,” he said. “But you don’t make it easy.”
His scowl deepened, though the sharpness in it faltered. “You’re not making it easy, either.”
Sebastian’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was no amusement in it. “Fair point.” He reached out, brushing a stray piece of moss from the pillar. “You know, running away doesn’t make what happened go away.”
Dante tensed, his gaze dropping to the worn carvings. “It’s not that simple.”
“Isn’t it?” Sebastian asked, his tone calm but laced with something unshakable. He shifted closer, his knee brushing his as he lowered his voice. “What are you afraid of?”
His breath hitched, the question hitting harder than it should have. He glanced at Sebastian, his amber eyes searching for something in the steady silver-gray watching him. “You wouldn’t get it.”
Sebastian raised a brow, his expression unreadable but patient. “Try me.”
The words hung between them, heavy and charged. Dante felt his pulse quicken, his hands twitching at his sides as he fought the instinct to pull away. Instead, he stayed rooted in place, the tension coiling tighter with every passing second.
Sebastian leaned closer, his hand brushing against his as he moved to clear more of the moss from the inscription. His touch lingered. “If you don’t want this, tell me now,” he said.
Dante swallowed hard, his gaze flicking to Sebastian’s lips before darting away. “I didn’t say that.”
“Then stop running,” Sebastian said.
The space between them disappeared as Sebastian leaned in, slow and unhurried, giving Dante every chance to pull away. But Dante didn’t move. He stayed, frozen and tense, until Sebastian’s lips pressed against his, soft but sure.
His breath shuddered as the kiss deepened, the warmth of Sebastian’s touch melting the tension coiled in his chest. Hesitation slipped away, leaving only the raw connection between them. He leaned into the kiss fully, his hand gripping the edge of the pillar for balance while his other found its way to Sebastian’s lapel, clutching it as though to ground himself.
Sebastian’s hand slid to the small of Dante’s back, steadying him, the gesture firm yet impossibly gentle. The scent of moss and aged stone mingled with the heat radiating between them, the rest of the world fading into irrelevance. His mind raced, a tangle of emotions that he couldn’t sort out, but his body knew what it wanted—to stay here, in this moment, with Sebastian.
When Sebastian pulled back, their foreheads brushed, his breath warm against his skin. Those silver-gray eyes softened, searching his expression for any sign of doubt. “Still with me?” he asked, a promise wrapped in the question.
Dante nodded, the words caught in his throat. His amber eyes burned with emotion he didn’t know how to name. “Yeah,” he said finally, steadier than he expected. “I’m with you.”
Sebastian smiled, the curve of it soft and unguarded, a rare break in his usual composure. His hand lingered on his back, a silent reassurance. “You don’t have to fight it,” Sebastian whispered. “It’s okay to feel this way.”
The words hit Dante like a surge of heat, raw and undeniable. They settled deep in his chest, challenging the walls he’d been so determined to keep up. His breath came slower, the tension in his shoulders easing as the weight of his resistance began to dissolve. “You make it sound so simple,” he said, his tone quieter now, the sharp edges dulled.
“It’s not,” Sebastian said, his silver-gray eyes meeting his without hesitation. “But it’s not wrong, either. You’re allowed to feel this. You’re allowed to want this. To want me .”
His grip on Sebastian’s lapel tightened briefly, his amber eyes burning with something between fear and relief. “What if I mess it up?”
Sebastian’s lips curved into a smile, the softness in his gaze steadying. “Then we’ll deal with it. But you won’t mess it up by being honest.”
Dante exhaled, his shoulders sagging as if the words had finally broken through the layers of doubt he carried. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Sebastian’s. “You’re annoyingly good at this,” he muttered, his tone tinged with reluctant humor.
Sebastian’s smile widened, his hand brushing along the fabric of his shirt in a quiet reassurance. “I try.”
Dante let out a short, self-conscious laugh, the sound easing the tension still lingering between them. His fingers trailed down from Sebastian’s lapel, resting against the warmth of his chest. “You’re gonna regret being this patient with me.”
“I don’t regret anything,” Sebastian said. “Especially not this.”
***
The ARC team sat around the long table in the briefing room, the air thick with quiet focus. The artifact map hovered in the center of the table, glowing arcs and nodes connecting in intricate patterns. Notes, sketches, and magical sigils filled the surrounding holographic interface as everyone prepared to report their findings.
Dante leaned back in his chair. Events of the last few days still pressed heavily against him, and he was already emotionally and physically drained, but he knew it wasn’t nearly over yet.
Orion stood at the head of the table, his arms crossed as he surveyed the group. “Let’s hear it. What did you find?”
Kaelen tapped his pen against his notebook, his honey-brown eyes glancing toward Aiden and Tristan. “Our site was old,” he began, his tone steady. “Residual water and earth magic, but no immediate activity. The ley line there feels weak, like it’s barely holding together.”
Aiden nodded, his expression thoughtful. “The plants in the area were acting strangely, though. Some sort of disturbance is affecting the natural balance.”
Orion’s gaze flicked to Lucas and Kaelen. “And your location?”
Lucas leaned back, his electric-blue eyes narrowing. “Whole site was unstable. We didn’t find anyone, but there were traces of rogue activity—burn marks, broken wards, that sort of thing.”
“Rogues have been there recently,” Kaelen added, his voice edged with concern. “They’re moving fast.”
Orion nodded, his expression unreadable. “Dante. What about the outpost?”
Dante straightened in his chair, his amber gaze meeting Orion’s. “We found an inscription. Ancient, possibly pre- Collapse. It was partially hidden in the central chamber.”
Sebastian gestured to the holographic console, uploading the images they’d taken. The inscription materialized in the center of the map, its angular script glowing as the system worked to translate it. “The text references elemental forces,” Sebastian said. “Unity, balance and protection.”
Dante leaned forward, his jaw tightening as he pointed to the highlighted phrase. “And this part—‘When the elements unite, the ancient evil shall be kept at bay.’ It’s a warning.”
Kaelen frowned, leaning closer to the projection. “A warning about what?”
Sebastian shrugged. “Whatever they’re doing, it’s not just about power. It looks they want to wake something.”
Ezra tilted his head, his violet eyes sharp as he examined the text. “And this unity? Balance between elements? What’s that about?”
“I don’t know,” Sebastian said, his silver-gray eyes scanning the inscription. “It might be literal or philosophical. If the elements are separated, the balance is broken. If they’re united, they keep this… evil in check.”
Orion stepped closer to the projection, his expression thoughtful. “So, this isn’t just about ley lines,” he said. “They want to disrupt the magical balance entirely.”
Lucas crossed his arms, electricity crackling around him. “So, what’s the play?”
“We need to understand what he’s trying to raise. If we don’t know what we’re fighting, we’ll be blind,” Kaelen said, his honeyed tone carrying a rare intensity.
His gaze lingered on the inscription, the weight of its message pressing against him. “Whatever it is, it’s old as fuck. Which probably means powerful as fuck, if our luck anyway.”
Sebastian adjusted his chair, pulling the tablet interface closer. His silver-gray eyes scanned the glowing inscription projected above the table, his brow furrowing as he brought up reference files and cross-checked symbols. “This language is old,” he said, his tone measured. “Pre-Collapse for sure, but it’s not unfamiliar. Some of these glyphs match with fragments I’ve seen in the archives.”
Lucas raised an eyebrow, electricity flickering at his fingertips as he leaned back in his chair. “How exactly do you know that?”
“It’s my job to know,” Sebastian said without looking up.
Ezra tilted his head, watching Sebastian’s fingers move with precision across the console. “Your job isn’t to deal with ancient prophecies, though.”
“It is when they show up in places like this,” Sebastian said. He tapped one of the glyphs, enlarging it. “This one here—it’s tied to elemental forces. I’ve seen it referenced in old texts about ley line stabilization.”
Sebastian’s actions were precise as he cross-referenced symbols. “But this isn’t written in a single language. It’s a blend—part symbolic, part literal. It’s not going to hand us all the answers.”
Dante leaned forward, his amber eyes narrowing as he followed the highlighted text. “So, what are you seeing so far?”
Sebastian paused, his hand hovering over a particularly angular glyph. “This one repeats.” He pointed to a symbol now glowing brighter on the projection. “It’s connected to air, movement, chaos. But it’s not just an element. I think… I think it’s a name.”
Ezra straightened, his violet eyes sharpening. “A name?”
Sebastian’s tone grew quieter, more focused as he tapped the glyph. “Zephyr,” he said finally. “I’ve seen it mentioned in fragments—never as a person or entity, but as a force.”
Lucas leaned forward, his electric-blue eyes narrowing. “As in, Heralds of Zephyr ?” he said, the name falling heavy into the space between them.
A beat of silence followed before Kaelen let out a low, “Oh, fuck.”
Ezra tilted his head, his expression darkening. “Guess they’re not just a poetry club.”
“Ya’ think?” Dante frowned, his jaw tightening. “What kind of force are we talking about here?”
Sebastian hesitated, his silver-gray eyes darting between the glyphs and the notes accumulating on his interface. “Primordial,” he said. “A force of air and destruction. Older than any recorded magic.”
Lucas leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table. “So, we’re not dealing with a rogue mage anymore. Does Lockwood think he can control it?”
“Only if he’s an idiot,” Sebastian said. “Anytime Zephyr is referenced in a text, it’s described as an ancient spirit of chaos incarnate. Zephyr isn’t a thing you control. And if the prophecy is right, it doesn’t stop—it spreads.”
Sebastian’s fingers hovered over the console, his expression tightening as he focused on a particularly intricate section of the inscription. “This part,” he murmured, almost to himself. “It’s fragmented, but it’s referencing… tools, maybe? Something connected to balance.”
Dante leaned forward, his amber eyes scanning the symbols, though their meaning remained elusive to him. “Tools? Like weapons?”
Sebastian tilted his head, his silver-gray eyes narrowing as he cross-referenced another set of glyphs. “Not just weapons. Artifacts, maybe. Objects tied to the elements.” His words came slower now, each one carefully measured as if he didn’t fully trust his interpretation yet. “Fire, water, air, earth… and this.”
He tapped a glowing glyph, its angular lines distinct from the others. “It’s fire but more than that. Like a volcano…?” he said, muttering more to himself than the group. “And it’s… some kind of, yeah —a sword.”
His shoulders stiffened, his amber eyes snapped to Sebastian. “You’re serious?”
Sebastian paused, glancing up at Dante with a flicker of confusion. “You know something about this?”
Dante hesitated, his jaw tightening as he crossed his arms. “There’s a legend. The Inferno Blade. Supposed to be forged in the heart of a volcano, tied to fire magic so powerful it can destroy or cleanse anything it touches.”
Sebastian’s expression turned grim as he looked back at the glyphs. “That matches what’s here,” he said. “Destruction and purification. But the text doesn’t say where it is—or how to look for it.”
Kaelen frowned, his honey-brown eyes narrowing as he leaned toward the projection. “Why do the Heralds want a weapon like that? What’re they trying to destroy—or purify?”
Sebastian looked up from the screen, his expression steady but grim. “These artifacts… they’re amplifiers,” he said, piecing it together aloud. “Tied directly to the elements.”
Dante arched a brow, leaning forward. “You’re saying these things are connected to the ley lines?”
“More than connected,” Sebastian said. “They’re intrinsic. If the ley lines are veins, the artifacts are… cores. Anchors, maybe.”
Dante exhaled, his amber eyes fixed on the glyph representing the Inferno Blade. “If the Heralds get their hands on even one, it could tip the balance.”
Ezra tilted his head, his violet eyes narrowing as he studied the projection. “And if they’re not just looking to unbalance things… are they trying to control them? To manipulate the elements themselves?”
The room grew heavier as the implication sank in. Kaelen leaned back, his eyes narrowing. “You’re suggesting these artifacts are more than tools. Gateways? Or possibly, keys to something bigger?”
Sebastian glanced at Ezra, his silver-gray eyes sharpening. “Sounds like that’s exactly what this is about,” he said. “If the Heralds collect the artifacts, they’re not just destabilizing the ley lines. They’re unlocking Zephyr. Total Chaos. There’s not a more opportune moment to seize control than when a continent is plunged into chaos and fear.”
Orion’s gaze swept across the table, his focus razor-sharp. “Stopping them isn’t enough. We need to secure those artifacts before they do.”
His jaw clenched as his eyes lingered on the glowing glyphs, their ominous shapes etched into his thoughts. “We’d better move fast,” he said, his tone low and resolute. “Because if we don’t, it won’t just be Eryndia that burns.”