CHAPTER 33 - An Ancient Prophecy
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More than once, a guard nearly discovered us, but Sylvos would quickly pull us into a shadowed corner, grinning as he kept me close to him.
The gates loomed in the distance, but he veered toward the jagged stone wall instead, pulling me along with a determination that left no room for argument.
Overhead, Vyvy circled in its crow form, a shadow with piercing blue eyes that glinted against the night sky.
"Why are we sneaking around?" I hissed, casting a wary glance at the twisting vines that snaked along the fortress walls.
"I already told you," Sylvos whispered back. "I can't risk any spies seeing this. Information on the griffons are already getting leaked. I don't want this to be discovered as well. Besides," his lips curled into a boyish grin that didn't suit his age, "isn't this fun?"
That smile, framed by windswept silver strands, was so youthful and untainted, it nearly disarmed me.
We reached the wall and Sylvos unsheathed Briarvex from beneath his cloak.
The blade gleamed darkly, its thorn-like etchings catching the faint moonlight.
He turned to me, still gripping my hand, and pulled me closer.
The cold steel of his sword brushed against my back as his arm encircled me, his voice a murmur in my ear.
"Hold on to me."
My pulse quickened, every nerve alight with suspicion. I reluctantly obeyed, my arms hooking around his neck as his warmth enveloped me.
The ground trembled beneath us, faint and slow.
I looked over his shoulder just in time to see one of the wall's massive thorned vines stir to life. It writhed like a serpent, its sword-like spikes glinting wickedly as it lowered itself toward us with an eerie grace.
Sylvos stepped onto it without hesitation, and I clung to him tighter as the vine lifted us off the ground, its movements smooth.
"Do you do this often?" I asked, forcing my voice to remain steady even as my stomach churned.
I made the mistake of looking at him. His face was mere inches from mine, his eyes locked on me alone, as if the rest of the world had melted away.
"Yes," he said, his black eyes gleaming with mischief. "But this is the first time I've brought someone along."
I steeled myself, refusing to let the strange pull of his presence unnerve me.
"What?" I scoffed. "All the other ladies refused you?"
His chuckle was low as he pulled me even closer, his body heat pressing against mine.
"You're the only lady who would dare refuse me, Princess."
"So, you're aware," I replied curtly.
The vine carried us smoothly over the wall, setting us down on the other side. Beyond the wall, the ground fell away into a sheer mountain cliff, the jagged expanse below illuminated only by moonlight.
I took a steadying breath, eyeing the abyss as my dark hair whipped around me.
"Any plans for getting us down there?" I asked. "Or should I assume you want me to jump first?"
Sylvos chuckled and stepped forward with casual confidence.
"The last thing I want is your blood on my hands, Princess."
He raised Briarvex and pointed it skyward.
"You might find," he said smugly, "that I've picked up a trick or two during our time apart."
I scoffed, crossing my arms.
"Ever learn how to talk less?"
Before he could respond, a shadow swept over us, vast and pale against the night sky. My breath hitched, and without thinking, I stepped closer to Sylvos as the shape descended with a thunderous rush of air.
A griffon landed on the cliff's edge, its talons scraping the stone with a sound that sent a shiver down my spine.
Its gleaming dark silver armor reflected the faint moonlight, intricate and cruelly elegant with a black leather saddle rested atop its broad back.
Thorned vines twisted along its body, digging into flesh and feathers alike.
My chest tightened as I took in the sight.
"This is terrible," I whispered, stepping away from Sylvos.
Vyvy swooped down from above, perching on my shoulder, its claws digging into my cloak as it let out a low, guttural hiss at the griffon.
I approached the creature cautiously, my hand trailing along the vines embedded in its plumage.
The sharp thorns bit into its flesh, dark stains marring the pristine white of its feathers.
"Doesn't this hurt them?" I asked.
"They're just beasts," Sylvos said with a casual shrug. "And under Briarvex's control, they don't feel pain."
I bit the inside of my cheek, suppressing the anger rising in my chest.
"It's cruel," I said, my fingers brushing over a particularly deep wound.
Sylvos sighed.
"Rulers have always used the power of cursed swords. But when I do it, it's cruel?"
I turned to him, my jaw tightening.
I wanted to argue, to point out the grotesque difference, but he wasn't wrong. Most rulers wielded their cursed blades with no regard for the suffering they caused. My father had been the exception, but exceptions were rare.
"I suppose you're no different from the rest, then," I muttered, turning my attention back to the griffon.
Sylvos stepped closer.
"Oh, but I am," he said. "When I conquer the continent, I'll have all seven cursed swords. And with them, I'll save this world from ruin."
I paused.
"...What?"
Sylvos chuckled, the sound cold and devoid of humor.
"I doubt you've heard the prophecy. It's a closely guarded secret, after all."
"What prophecy?" I asked.
He ignored the question, walking past me with the effortless confidence that always set my teeth on edge. He mounted the griffon with fluid grace, then extended a hand toward me.
"Come. I'll tell you all about it once we reach the caves."
I hesitated, eyeing the griffon's armored frame and the unnatural stillness in its movements.
"What? Don't be afraid. I won't let you fall," Sylvos said with a mocking smile. "Unless you're falling for me."
"Ha," I laughed, reluctantly placing my hand in his. "I'd rather fall from the griffon in that case, Your Majesty."
He smiled lovingly.
"You wound me, Princess."
His grip was warm, steady, and far too assured for my liking. He pulled me up behind him, and I settled onto the saddle, my body tense. Vyvy launched into the air, circling us with a sharp, keening cry.
The griffon shifted beneath us, its massive wings stretching wide as it stepped toward the edge of the cliff.
"This might be a little scary for you," Sylvos said over his shoulder. "Hold on tight."
I rolled my eyes, biting back a retort as I wrapped my arms around his waist, his warmth seeping through the layers of fabric between us. One of his hands gripped the saddle mount, the other resting lightly on Briarvex's hilt.
With a powerful leap, the griffon launched itself into the void, the wind tearing past us in a frigid rush.
My breath caught as we plummeted, the ground rushing toward us.
Just when I thought the impact was inevitable, the griffon's wings unfurled with a resounding crack, catching the wind and sweeping us upward.
The world blurred into a tapestry of stars and shadow as we soared.
And Sylvos' laughter echoed in the night.
He didn't sound like an emperor at all.
The wind howled against my face, icy and relentless as we soared through the night.
Beneath us, Dornhold Castle looked like a toy fortress, its imposing towers reduced to mere specks of silver in the moonlight.
The sprawling city stretched out in flickering patches of light, the lanterns of its streets and homes glowing faintly against the dark.
From this height, it all felt so distant, so insignificant.
And for a moment, I forgot about the cold, the griffon beneath us, and even Sylvos.
My thoughts drifted to the dragons of Drakfjord, to the freedom I had once known gliding through the storm-laden skies of my homeland. It was a memory I had buried deep.
How many lifetimes had it been since I last soared with Mistfang?
Here, above the world, the sensation stirred in me again.
I didn't even realize my grip on Sylvos had loosened, my body leaning into the flight as the griffon's powerful wings beat against the air. The rush of the wind, the vast expanse of the sky... It made it hard to hold on to my usual guardedness.
Sylvos glanced back at me, his silver hair wild in the wind, and grinned.
"Enjoying yourself, Princess?"
"I'm tolerating it," I grinned as I threw my head back.
He chuckled, his confidence grating but oddly infectious in the moment. I hated that I let myself feel anything other than mistrust around him, but the thrill of the flight made it difficult.
We flew onward, the city fading into the distance as Sylvos guided the griffon toward the looming silhouette of the northern mountains. The jagged snow-tipped peaks rose against the star-drenched sky, their ominous forms growing larger as we approached.
The griffon descended with surprising grace, its talons finding purchase on the rocky ground at the mouth of an enormous cave. I slid from the saddle, my boots crunching against the stone as I took in the sight before me.
The cave mouth was vast, even larger than the ones at Drakfjord. The dark stone walls gleamed faintly with veins of something metallic, glinting like captured starlight. But it wasn't just the scale that unsettled me.
The entrance bore the unmistakable touch of human hands — massive pillars carved into the stone, framing the opening like the gateway to some long-forgotten temple.
Unlit torches hung along the walls, their iron brackets rusted but still intact.
Sylvos dismounted with ease, sheathing Briarvex. He pulled a torch free from its bracket and lit it as he turned to me, the torchlight catching the sharp angles of his face.
"This way," he said.
I followed him into the cave, the torchlight barely illuminating the path ahead. Vyvy flew down and perched on my shoulder again, eyeing the darkness for any threats.
The air grew warmer as we descended, and I couldn't shake the feeling that the cave itself was watching us, ancient and alive in some unknowable way.
"Two thousand years ago, when my family claimed the throne, we bore a prophecy," Sylvos said, his words echoing through the cavern.
"Hear well, ye who seek vengeance foretold.
When seven blades, accursed and old, rise together, their wrath entwined, shall the bane of the land be confined.
Yet mark this, should shadow's beloved bleed, the fallen's victory shall not succeed. "
The weight of the words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding.
"What does it mean?" I asked.
"It's an ancient prophecy," Sylvos explained. "Translated from High Elvish centuries ago and carried by my family ever since. I believe it foretells that my bloodline must unite all seven cursed swords to bring peace to Fayndor. You see, it is our destiny, to conquer this land."
My eyes narrowed.
"Or perhaps you're only hearing what you want to hear."
"Perhaps," he admitted with a sigh. "But Briarvex speaks to me. It whispers of conquest, of inevitability. With a sword such as this and a prophecy to guide me, how could I deny my fate?"
I said nothing, knowing it was futile to argue with him. His vision of conquest had always burned bright, a flame that consumed everything else.
"What is it you're so desperate to show me?" I asked.
Sylvos' gaze stayed locked on the dark path ahead.
"I have heard tales," he began, "that the Eternal Sword is hidden within these mountains. A sword said to grant its wielder any wish. I've searched for years, but it has eluded me." He paused for a moment. "Instead, I found something else."
My heart thudded against my ribs. The air felt heavier here, thick with a presence I couldn't yet see but could feel crawling over my skin.
"Stay close to me," Sylvos murmured, his hand tugging me closer.
Vyvy shifted restlessly on my shoulder, its claws digging into me as it scanned the shadows with nervous energy. The air changed, carrying a rancid stench that clawed at my throat.
The first skeletal remains appeared, bones scattered along the path like discarded toys. My stomach twisted as more and more came into view, some half-crushed, others charred.
The smell of decay became suffocating.
"I have this creature to thank for my last three victories," Sylvos admitted, unsheathing Briarvex with a sharp hiss of steel. He raised it, pointing toward the oppressive darkness ahead.
"Rise," he commanded, his voice ringing with authority.
The silence that followed was unbearable.
Then, the shadows began to shift, trembling as if stirred by some unseen force. A faint rumble vibrated beneath my feet, growing louder with each passing second.
My breath hitched as a sudden burst of fire erupted in the distance, illuminating the monstrous form before us.
At first, I thought it was a massive hearth, a fire pit built into the cavern. But then the flames moved, licking at the air, and I realized the truth.
It was no hearth.
It was a mouth — gaping, grotesque, and lined with thousands of jagged teeth. The fire burned deep within its throat, a molten glow that cast a terrifying light over the cave.
I froze as the creature's massive head loomed forward, the ground shaking beneath its weight. Saliva dripped from its maw, gleaming like molten lava in the firelight. Its leathery black skin shimmered faintly as it moved, massive and sinuous, its body coiling like a serpent's.
And I suddenly knew exactly what I was looking at.
"Yield to me," Sylvos commanded, his voice unwavering.
The wyrm exhaled, a deep, rumbling huff that sent waves of heat rippling through the air. It turned, spitting a column of fire against the walls, the heat searing as it lit the cavern in a sudden blaze of fiery light.
Sweat beaded on my skin as the flames revealed the full extent of the horror around us. Hundreds, no, thousands of corpses strewn across the chamber. Some were ancient, little more than brittle bones, while others still bore the charred remnants of flesh.
The wyrm's body stretched endlessly, larger than even Dreadwing, its monstrous form filling the cavern. It had no eyes, only that grotesque, ever-shifting mouth.
My gaze caught on the cruel thorns that wrapped around its body, digging deep into its flesh.
"Unfortunately, the wyrm is of little use in my war against the southern side of the continent," Sylvos said. "Transporting a creature of this size across the river lands and oceans is... impossible."
My chest tightened as his words settled over me. I could only imagine the devastation this beast could wreak on cities, and I shuddered at the thought.
A flicker of relief swept through me, knowing it could not be unleashed upon the wars to come.
"I'll keep it here," Sylvos continued, his tone casual. "It will patrol these lands when the war begins. A precaution in case of rebellions."
"Why are you showing me this?" I asked, my voice sharp and strained.
He turned to me, a smile on his lips.
"I had an idea," he said. "What if I could bring the creature south? What if it could shrink into something smaller, something manageable, and then reshape itself back into the wyrm?" His eyes drifted to Vyvy perched on my shoulder. "The vylnir can take any shape, can it not?"
I froze, my heart lurching as his gaze flicked back to the wyrm. He gestured toward the massive beast, his voice laced with cold calculation.
"This is why I wanted to show it to the both of you. I want the vylnir to memorize its form so we can use it in the war to come."
The ground beneath me felt unsteady. My heart plummeted, a sickening weight dragging it into the pit of my stomach.
This... this would guarantee his victory.
I shook my head, my breath shallow.
"I... I don't think the vylnir could become something so large. There must be limits to its abilities."
Sylvos nodded thoughtfully, as though my words were merely an obstacle to overcome.
"Then we'll find those limits. After the festivities for my birthday, we'll leave for somewhere remote to test it. This kind of information must not escape."
Before I could respond, he turned to me, his hands closing over mine. His grip was warm, firm, and disarmingly intimate.
"I trust you, Raine," he said, his black eyes boring into mine.
My breath caught at the sound of my name on his lips.
"Please," he said softly, his voice almost pleading. "You must tell no one. Not a soul. No matter how much you think you can trust them. This must remain my secret weapon."
I nodded, though my hands trembled in his.
"Good," he said, exhaling. "I apologize if I am burdening you with this. I just... I truly believe I can trust you. More than anyone. You loathe me so openly, so I do not even understand my own belief... Perhaps I am only foolish. Perhaps you have put a spell on me. But it's the truth."
He pushed his silver hair back, the gesture achingly human.
And I hated it.
I hated the way he could look so ordinary. As though he were just a man with dreams and burdens.
But he was more than that.
He was the man who killed me. Who killed my unborn child. Who owed me hundreds of lives.
I will not forgive him.
I will not...
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