CHAPTER THIRTEEN
OLIVIA
T he sheets twisted and tangled around me as I tossed in bed, suffocating under the oppressive silence of Mathias’ grand estate. My mind churned, unable to shake the echoes of that encounter in the cave today, the hiss of serpents, the cryptic gaze of the old man, and the fleeting glimpse of the moon dagger.
Moonlight crept through the curtains, casting pale streaks across the room. My eyelids grew heavy, surrendering to the pull of sleep. But it came with a familiar companion—the dream, relentless and haunting—I gripped the Blade of Shadows tightly, running across a battlefield littered with the fallen. The ground was a grotesque mosaic of twisted bodies, broken soldiers strewn like discarded marionettes. Lifeless horses lay sprawled, their glassy eyes frozen in eternal terror, while the earth drank the dark, viscous blood pooling beneath them.
Panic clawed at my chest as I spun, searching for pursuers. The air was thick with the whistle of arrows slicing through the night.
Amid the chaos, he appeared—a man cloaked in darkness, his presence commanding and unrelenting. His voice broke the stillness like the crack of a whip, each word dripping with malice. “You can’t keep running from me or my dark soldiers. You have lost this battle.”
I froze, the blade becoming an extension of my fierce resolve. I planted my feet on the blood-soaked ground. The man was Salvatore. He was my predator, and I was his prey.
“I might have lost today, but I will never allow you to take the Blade of Shadows,” I said, my voice reverberating with an authority that felt ancient and powerful.
His laughter was a cold wind that sought to wither my defiance.
“Oh, such big words,” he sneered, each step forward exuding a predator’s confidence. “But you forget, I am the Shadow Lord and hold all the power. Speaking of Shadow Lords, where is Lazarus, the all-powerful? Where are your devoted protectors, Balthazar and Zara? I don’t see your fearless husband either.”
He glanced around the battlefield, his words landing like blows, chipping away at my defenses. “At this moment, you need them the most, but here we are—just you and me.”
His eyes glinted with malicious glee as he reveled in my vulnerability. A cruel smile twisted his lips, sharp and mocking.
“I’ll make this easy for you. Don’t bother answering my questions. Just hand over the blades, and I won’t kill you. You will be my prisoner, but I will allow you to live.”
“Never,” I spat. “Never will I allow you to possess the blades.”
The dream pulsated with the tension of our standoff, the forces of light and darkness clashing in an eternal struggle. Salvatore’s shadow loomed larger, his malice saturating the air, but I stood firm, unyielding.
With a defiant cry, I thrust the sun and moon blades skyward, their edges catching the ghostly light of an unseen celestial body. My lips moved of their own accord, uttering the sacred script of the Blade of Shadows. The words felt familiar, a long-forgotten chant etched deep within my soul, resonating with the pulsating power of the daggers.
“‘ Iinani ‘adeu qiwaa alsama’ aleazimati, wa’atlub mink ‘an tutliq aleinan linurka ,” I said, the air around me crackling with ancient magic. The meaning hummed through my mind— I call upon the great forces of the sky. I ask of you to unleash your light.
A blinding radiance enveloped the blades, igniting them with a power that seemed to tear the fabric of my dream. Salvatore’s face contorted in agony as he clawed at the air, his scream piercing the cacophony of battle that faded into the background. The blades, now alive with furious energy, pushed him back.
“You will never possess them, Salvatore,” I said, my voice laced with a command that defied time. “I am breaking them apart, and you will never find or possess them.”
The world around me spun violently, the ground beneath my feet giving way to a maelstrom of wind and raw energy. My heart thundered as the sun and moon blades trembled in my hands, radiating an unholy intensity. Then, with a deafening crack like thunder splitting the heavens, the blades wrenched apart, severing their bond. Shockwaves rippled through the battlefield, scattering shadows and silencing the chaos.
Sweat dripped from my brow as the tempest roared around me, yet I remained untouched—a solitary force standing firm in the eye of the storm as the world unraveled.
And then, silence.
My eyes snapped open to the stillness of Mathias’ estate bedroom. The chaos of my dream receded, leaving me gasping for breath, my heart racing against the soft, steady rhythm of Roman’s slumber beside me. The room was cloaked in shadows, yet the vivid imagery of the dream clung to my mind with an unsettling clarity.
“I saw everything,” I whispered to the darkness, my voice trembling under the weight of revelation. “So clearly… so real.”
Salvatore’s name echoed in my mind, a shadowy specter of menace, intertwining the past with the present. A fragment of memory from my life as Isabelle flitted through my thoughts—a fleeting wisp just out of reach. Was there a connection? How did I know him? What secrets lay buried in the depths of history, taunting me with their elusive nature?
Despite the room’s warmth, I shivered, an urgent need rising within me to collect myself and steady the tremors as reality and dreams collided. The name Salvatore lingered, a puzzle from a long-forgotten era, demanding to be placed. My resolve solidified—I would not rest until the mysteries of my lineage and destiny were unraveled.
The chill of the night air brushed against my skin as I slipped from beneath the silken sheets, careful not to disturb Roman’s peaceful slumber. My pulse thrummed in my ears, a relentless reminder of the chaos unfurled in my dreams.
“Who is this Shadow Lord, Lazarus? And Balthazar and Zara… protectors of my past,” I murmured to myself, the words feeling foreign yet familiar on my tongue. “How very odd. Balthazar, my protector? More like my biggest enemy. And who is Zara?”
None of it made sense—the visions, the voices, the veiled threats. They wove a tapestry of confusion and unease that clung to me like a second skin.
Thirst clawed at my throat, grounding me with its raw, tangible need amidst the intangible swirl of my thoughts. Rising quietly, I padded across the room, careful to keep my steps light on the cool marble, avoiding any sound that might disturb the silence—an old habit from childhood nights spent slipping through the shadows. The estate was silent, draped in the heavy velvet of night. I descended the grand staircase with deliberate, soundless steps, the weight of unspoken secrets pressing down my shoulders.
Halfway down the staircase, a murmur of voices halted my descent. Pressing myself into the shadows, I leaned around the edge of the wall. The faint glow of a single candle illuminated two familiar figures—my mother and Mathias, locked in a hushed conversation.
“What happened in the caves today?” Mathias asked, his voice low but probing.
“Olivia saw a pit of snakes, an old man... and the moon dagger,” my mother replied, her tone laced with concern and conviction.
“Did you see this as well?” Mathias’ inquiry held a note of skepticism.
“Of course not,” Mom answered sharply. “But I know it was Lazarus. He’s protecting the moon dagger. Everything disappeared when I walked up.”
“Have patience,” Mathias said, his tone measured, almost dismissive. “It wasn’t Lazarus. He has never approached Olivia or Roman. It couldn’t have been him. She was likely imagining things.”
Shock rippled through me, sharp and piercing. How could they dismiss what I had experienced so easily? Was my mind truly playing tricks on me?
“How can you say everything is handled?” Mom asked, her voice rising with barely contained frustration. “You claim to have everyone wrapped around your finger, and now Marcellious and Reyna have returned from Raul. Lazarus appeared with his pit of snakes. Everything feels like it’s slipping out of control. Even Malik could be manipulating you, Father.”
Mathias didn’t respond.
“And Balthazar,” Mom continued, her voice trembling with anger, “he’s out of control. He just revealed all my secrets to Olivia. And worst of all, every word he said was the truth.”
Their exchange hung in the air like a toxic mist, thick and suffocating, unraveling everything I thought I knew. Secrets, lies, and betrayals were the threads binding my family together.
I pressed my back against the cool stone wall, my breaths shallow and uneven as I wrestled with the weight of their revelations. What else had been hidden from me? What other truths lay buried in the hearts of those I loved and trusted?
I had come for water, but the thirst that drove me now was far more consuming—a hunger for answers, for the truth buried beneath their layers of deceit.
My pulse hammered in my ears, a frantic drumbeat against the night’s stillness. I was a shadow within shadows, my breath a silent witness to the treachery unfolding before me. The revelation that Balthazar had spoken only truth cut through me, a betrayal sharper than any blade.
“Everything is under control,” Mathias’ voice murmured, smooth and assured yet tinged with an edge of menace. “Olivia’s mind is clouded with pregnancy. She sees threats where there are none.”
The rage bubbling within me burned cold. Clouded with pregnancy? The words echoed in my mind, igniting a silent fury that clenched my fists at my sides. How dare he?
“I have the loyalty of all the players,” Mathias continued, his confidence unnerving. “Balthazar’s recent... indiscretions will be addressed. A little more poison should keep him subdued.”
“Poison?” my mother repeated, her voice steady but tinged with something darker. “And what of Salvatore? You said his eyes see all.”
Salvatore. His name felt like a curse, coiling through my thoughts like a serpent. Another figure in this labyrinth of deceit, his presence loomed even in absence.
“He watches, yes,” Mathias replied, his voice low and malicious. “He knows our every move.”
“Does Balthazar remember, Father?” Mom asked, her words hanging heavy in the air. “His past with Olivia?”
“Impossible,” Mathias scoffed, dismissing her concern with his hand. “If he did, he’d recall everything. And we can’t allow that, can we?”
A surge of icy dread coursed through me, freezing me in place. Who was I in this intricate web of lies and manipulation? Was I merely another pawn in their insidious game?
Mathias’ body shuddered a brief tremor that seemed out of character for his otherwise composed demeanor. It was subtle, but it struck me as a crack in his armor, a fleeting glimpse of the strain beneath his facade.
“Are you alright?” Mom asked, her voice tinged with alarm.
“Something’s wrong,” Mathias said, his usual veneer cracking as he gripped the back of a chair for support. “The solar eclipse is coming, and I am losing my power. It’s fading away, and the pain is immense.”
His confession struck me as a stark reminder of the forces at play that threatened to engulf us all. The eclipse was a harbinger of change, a time when the balance of power could shift, not in our favor.
I clutched the wall, my mind racing. This was far beyond familial discord. It was a war rooted in ancient grudges, and somehow, I stood at its very center—a pawn in a game that spanned lifetimes. How could I navigate this labyrinth of deceit and danger when every step seemed to lead to ruin?
Slipping away from my hiding place, I vowed to uncover the truth, no matter the cost. But first, I needed to steady the storm within and confront whatever lay ahead with clear, resolute eyes. My family’s fate—and my unborn child’s future—depended on it.
Fury burned through me like wildfire. It was a trap—everything. My mother, Mathias—puppets in a grand scheme that had tangled me at its core. They had underestimated me, but no longer.
I stormed toward the study with every fiber screaming for action, where muffled voices rose and fell behind the closed door.
“No, Osman! We can’t risk it,” Reyna’s voice came through, tinged with frustration.
“But we must!” Osman countered, his tone calm yet unwavering.
I pushed the door open without hesitation, barging into their heated conversation. Their heads snapped toward me, shock etched across their faces.
“Osman, you must take me to the cave. Now .” My voice left no room for argument.
“Olivia, no. You’re with a child. The danger—” Reyna began, her words laced with the overprotection I could no longer bear.
“Osman,” I interrupted, fixing him with a glare that dared him to refuse, “I am going, with or without you.”
The tension hung between us like a blade poised to fall.
Finally, Osman sighed and nodded, his resignation evident. “Very well. But we proceed carefully.”
Under the shroud of night, we set out for the caves. Reyna and I sat on the wagon’s box seat while Osman rode horseback. The silence of the journey was broken only by the rhythmic clomping of hooves on the dirt road.
Strapped to my thigh, the sun dagger pulsed with a warmth that seemed to echo my heartbeat. When we reached the caves, we dismounted and secured the horses. Osman moved ahead, promising to return with light.
“Osman, wait,” Reyna called, her voice tinged with worry, but he had already vanished into the cavern’s depths.
“Olivia, please, stay here,” Reyna said.
“Of course,” I lied, eyes drawn toward one of the darkened corridors.
She hesitated, studying me with skepticism before hurrying after Osman.
The moment she disappeared into the shadows, I moved. Determination drowned out the whispers of fear that clawed at the edges of my mind.
“I don’t think I went this deep before,” I murmured, my fingertips grazing the rough stone walls as I ventured further. The cavern loomed around me, its oppressive darkness closing in like a living thing.
Each step carried me deeper into the unknown, the air growing colder and heavier with each breath. The silence was absolute, broken only by my heartbeat pounding in my ears. Despite the chill, my movements were steady, driven by an instinct that felt older than myself, as though I had walked these paths in another life.
“Stay focused,” I whispered. “You can do this, Olivia.”
I paused, pulling the sun dagger from its holster and clutching it tightly. The familiar weight of the blade grounded me, a fragile anchor in the sea of chaos swirling around me. The life growing inside me was my strength and vulnerability—a promise of hope amidst the shadows of loss that haunted my past. I had already lost so many, including an unborn child. Fear gnawed at the edges of my resolve, but there was no turning back now. The answers I sought were here, waiting to be unearthed.
Ahead, a faint light flickered in the darkness, pale and otherworldly, beckoning me deeper into the cave’s depths. Each step I took felt like crossing a threshold between the living and the dead, the echoes of my boots swallowed by the oppressive stillness.
Finally, I stumbled into the clearing. It was the same room from yesterday, illuminated by a light that had no discernible source. The old man stood beside the pit of writhing snakes, his presence as unyielding and enigmatic as before. The serpents twisted and coiled like a living tapestry of menace, their movements hypnotic and disquieting. Relief surged through me, momentarily displacing my fear. He was real. The vision had been real.
“Olivia,” the old man said, his voice resonating with a calm that belied the dread-laden air. His eyes, ancient and all-knowing, locked onto mine, their gaze heavy with unspoken truths.
I halted, panting, the remnants of anger toward my mother still burning. What other lies had she tangled into the threads of my life? How much had she kept hidden, and why?
“You came back,” he said, his tone almost gentle. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I am,” I admitted, my voice trembling. “I’m scared of you, the snakes, what tomorrow will bring.”
The sun dagger felt warm in my hand, its presence a small, fierce comfort against the swell of uncertainties pressing down on me.
The faintest hint of a smile touched his lips, one that spoke of empathy and understanding. “You should never be afraid. If I were not on your side, I would not have woven protectors into the fabric of your destiny. Walk toward me. My snakes will not harm you.”
His words, spoken with quiet assurance, spurred my feet into motion. Each step was an act of courage, a declaration that the unknown would not cow me. The air grew heavier as I approached, his gaze pressing down on me, yet I refused to falter.
The serpents, a writhing carpet of scales and hisses, parted like the sea before me, granting passage. Their retreat felt like an unspoken acknowledgment—a recognition of my purpose, my right to be here.
Nestled in a crevice, bathed in an ethereal glow that pierced the shadows of the cave, lay the moon dagger. Its silver blade shimmered like the surface of a tranquil pond, catching the moonlight that filtered through a narrow crack in the cave’s ceiling. My heart hammered against my ribs, a frantic rhythm heralding triumph as my hand closed around the hilt. The metal was cold, biting even, yet it felt like home—a piece of my soul I hadn’t known was missing.
I lifted the moon dagger, its weight both physical and symbolic, turning it over in my hands. Majestic as it was, it lacked the radiant brilliance of the sun dagger that had always been by my side. Devoid of its rightful power, it felt incomplete—just as I had once been, before fate had forged me into something more.
“This is it,” I whispered, the words almost a prayer. “I have them both now.”
But their dormancy pressed heavily against my palms, a reminder that possession alone was not enough. Memories of my dream surfaced, vivid and haunting—the blades ablaze with power, defying the darkness. I remembered the words I had spoken in that otherworldly battlefield—words of separation, of breaking a bond that had endured through time.
“It was me,” I murmured, a realization dawning. “I separated them, didn’t I?”
“Yes, Olivia,” the old man’s voice echoed, calm and certain. “You did. But it was necessary, then, to protect the world from their combined force. Now, the time has come to reunite them, to awaken their true potential.”
Anxiety coiled in my stomach, tightening with each beat of silence. “What do I have to do? What are the words to bring them back to life?” My voice was edged with urgency.
Before he could answer, the old man staggered, his body folding like a marionette whose strings had been cut. He collapsed with a muted thud, the sound reverberating through the cavern and echoing the sudden drop of my heart.
“No!” I cried out, rushing to his side.
His eyes were closed, his face a map of pain—or perhaps something deeper, an unseen battle etched into the lines of his features. I dropped to my knees beside him, the cold stone biting through the fabric of my skirt.
“What happened?” My voice trembled as I reached out tentatively, unsure if my touch could bring comfort or solace.
The old man’s breaths were ragged, each one a struggle that seemed to siphon the last remnants of life from his frail body. His hand, unexpectedly strong, grasped mine with a force that sent a jolt through my frayed nerves.
“The solar eclipse is coming,” he said, his words punctuated by the labor of his chest rising and falling. His hand, surprisingly strong, gripped mine with an urgency that sent a jolt through my already frayed nerves. “You must remember the past.”
Confusion swirled within me, mingling with the fear and adrenaline that had been my constant companions since setting foot in this forsaken place. “Remember what? How can I?—”
“Salvatore is your greatest enemy,” he interrupted, his gaze locking onto mine with a piercing intensity that made the air around us feel heavy. “Mathias and your mother… they are your enemies too.”
The floor beneath me felt unsteady, as though it might give way at any moment, plunging me into an abyss of betrayal.
Before I could process the magnitude of his words, his grip loosened, and his frail body began to fade—dissolving into the encroaching shadows that crept along the cave walls. A cry of disbelief escaped my lips, raw and broken, only to be swallowed by the oppressive silence.
I sat there, alone, the truth of his warning heavy on my heart.
A sharp pain seared through my abdomen, startling in its intensity. I doubled over with a gasp, clutching at the cold, unyielding rock for support.
Not now. Panic flared inside me, white-hot and blinding. This couldn’t be happening—not here, not in the depths of a cave, cloaked in darkness and far from any help. Another contraction tore through me, stronger and more relentless, leaving me gasping for breath.
“Please, not yet,” I whispered, my plea a desperate prayer to the child within me, to the fates that seemed intent on testing my limits. The cave around me blurred, shadows pressing closer as I braced myself against the unyielding stone. Alone and terrified, I fought against the waves of pain, with nothing but the silent echoes of the serpents as my witnesses.