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Kael stepped out of the room of the Whispering Throne deliberately and slowly. His head was still reeling as a result of the vision.. the battle filed, the name Vire, and then the immense pressure that continued to hang upon his chest like some invisible strangleholds. The Grimoire now was perfectly silent, as though even he required rest to be able to take in what had occurred.
Outside the wind was whistling over the ruins of Silvergrave. The desolated city lay before him, as though one never buried a graveyard. Its walls which had been grand, now appeared melted bones cemented to the dark rock. Ghosts of the past still moved Ash through the streets.
Kael walk through the depths of the city, where stood the smoking ruins of vampire hunting halls, where stood shattered statues, and crimson stained insignias which had lost all meaning. He was not going anywhere..all he had was an instinct. This type of instinct that brought him to that accursed pond, to the mimic, to the throne.
He tracked his tiny pulse of Crimson Heart. It pulled him down into the belly of the city, under what had once been the Court of Ironblood, but which was these days a cavity of black stone and silence. the pit gaped in the middle of it... the work of no age or destruction, but of design.
Kael dropped in.
The descent was narrow and damp, the walls lined with veins of dried crimson crystal. He moved quietly. Something about this place felt wrong.
Then he heard it… footsteps, echoing against stone, not far below.
He froze, hiding behind a fractured column of stone.
Two figures moved through the lower chamber. Both wore cloaks, neither alive.
Their voices echoed in broken, hollow tones:
"The throne has been touched."
"So the blood lives after all."
"Should we inform the Severed Eye?"
"Not yet. Let it play. Let him believe he's in control."
Kael's fingers curled into fists.
He wasn't alone. And whoever they were, they knew about him.
One of the cloaked figures turned toward the tunnel, sniffing the air.
> "He's here."
Kael moved before they could.
His shadow flickered. The Grimoire opened without his touch.
> [Blood Pulse… Shadow Snap]
He appeared behind them in a blur of red mist, claws extended, fangs barely bared.
He slashed one across the back… but felt no flesh. The cloak fell.
Empty. A husk.
The second one turned slowly. Its hood fell, revealing a face made entirely of silver-threaded bone… no mouth, no eyes. Only a single vertical slit pulsing with light.
> "Kael Vire," it whispered without lips.
Kael hesitated.
> "Who sent you?"
The creature tilted its head. "We are the remnants. Born from thought. Shadows cast by gods who feared your blood."
Before Kael could strike again, the creature collapsed into ash.
Only its voice remained, echoing in his skull:
> "She is waiting for you."
Then silence.
Kael stared at the ash for a long time before finally turning away, his grip tightening around the Grimoire.
Not even the dead wanted to stay dead around him anymore.
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End of Chapter 34
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