Though the war drums had since drowned out long into the distance, the echo still ringing through Cassiel's bones. The vast court of the palaces of Eldoria feels different at this instance, the heaviness and the darkened feel seeping through the very stones capture the tensions simmering beneath it.
Cassiel moved briskly through the illuminated hallways, her navy blue cloak flowing behind her like a phantom softly whispering. The mixture of warning and promise from Arden still flies around the head. "It is impossible to ignore that which looms; however, it is as simple to decide how to confront it."
Fretful whispers of war went on to stir something that lay idle for a long while, older and more dangerous. And now, the message that rested under her door paired with the feeling of being surrounded made Cassiel's life much harder.
The torch on the level below spins until the corridor is shined upon. The stone steps under me lead deeper into the palace, otherworldly. Her mouth opening in surprise. No breath-taking architecture, the lack of air in the rest of the room resembled old stone with a hint of something much more alluring.
Confronted with a dilemma, she could either retreat to her chambers and ignore the call, or plunge headfirst into the unknown. Together with tightly clenched fists, Cassiel uttered there was no choice rather escalated to a decision. The only way left was down for her.
She moved in an escalated fashion. Divided into multiple obstacles, each one creepy enough to give a bad dream, this stairwell leads downwards, its walls shifting together as if to devour her to the very core. The torchlight dims and fades into darkness with each small step, rendering it completely useless. She took what felt like eternity in submerging herself. At the bottom, she was elegantly welcomed by an iron door etched in symbols she had no idea of. Along with worn-out parchment, burnt herbs filled the air as it was drenched in their scent.
When she ceased to move, before her came a figure adorned in hooded robes of midnight color. She confronted their hearts as wild as the uncaged lion, only to learn she was face-to-face with the necessary portion of men. She said her decision aloud, "I claim you under my rule, Cassiel." Cassiel ward off into rectangle symbol rest as rested chest, adorned a coiling serpent wrapped around an unclothed eye, gave him mark where the very god placed him—one of the Veilborn.
Whispers had already informed Cassiel from her siders—dwellers of destiny, ominous betters who made certain that prophecies followed through. What she absorbed was that power delusional of the dream place—kings and monarchs were beyond their clutch folding. Respondulating as puppets for the unfurnished energy that supervised the terrain switched their reality.
The man stepped forward, the shadows moving with him as if they were part of him. "You are playing a dangerous game, princess."
"I did not come here to be warned like a frightened child." Cassiel lifted her chin. "If you know something, speak plainly."
A hollow chuckle echoed through the chamber. "Bravery... or foolishness? They are often the same." He raised a gloved hand, and the symbols on the iron door glowed blue.
"The war you fear is merely the surface of something greater," he said. "You and Arden are more than players in this conflict. You are its fulcrum."
Cassiel felt a chill snake down her spine.
"The prophecy is no longer what you believe it to be," he continued. "There are forces who have altered its course, bending it to their will. You must tread carefully; otherwise it will consume you both."
Her mind spun. To hear that it had been changed? That someone was manipulating fate itself was more terrifying than anything she had imagined.
"Who would do such a thing? Who would want to hurt someone so innocently?" She demanded.
"You already know the answer," the Veilborn exhailed.
She couldn't help but think about how the Veilborn's dark secrets and revelation made Lord Malrik's name come to life.
It was the gaze of the chest person, to his excitement over many of his actions. It filled her with apprehension.
"Take a guess who I'm talking about," the Veilborn left with that conceit pronounciation. "You have no time answering me, pay attention and time is key, Cassiel."
"Cassiel, in case you want to survive what's next, you better get off the track and hurry yourself."
The torches dipped and undulated calamitously, then—
He was gone.
Her head was spinning as she staggered back into the basilica and then floundered into a spiral staircase, each step impossibly burring her chest further. She was hyperaware of the gaze on her persona with an unsettling feeling.
"It's like your mind is consumed by every possible scenario at the same time." when she reached her destination, she found Arden had already arrived, arms crossed, his fist pressed against his lip, concern leaving his expression dark.
"Where have you been, it's like your gone too long," he said to her.
"Well, let me put it in a simpler way," she said mastering her gaze with a coolheaded voice in pure icy tone.
She met his gaze, her voice steady. "We need to talk."