Chapter 5: The Last Hope...
As Xolvion stared at his reflection in the obsidian mirror, his mother's words echoed through his mind once more. But this time, they sparked a different memory, one he'd nearly forgotten in his desperation. His grandfather. His mother's father.
Zarathos Nightwhisper had been a name spoken in hushed reverence throughout the demon realm, even amongst the nobility who sneered at Xolvion's mixed heritage. Unlike many demons who gained power through brute force or inherited bloodlines, Zarathos had earned his position through cunning, political acumen, and a talent for information gathering that made him invaluable to multiple demon nobles.
Xolvion remembered the stories his mother had told him during their quiet moments together. How Zarathos had started as a minor noble's bastard son, much like Xolvion himself, and had clawed his way to prominence through sheer intelligence and an uncanny ability to be exactly where he needed to be when opportunity presented itself.
"Your grandfather," Lyralei had said during one of their last conversations before her death, "is the only demon I know who commands respect without inspiring fear. He builds alliances instead of enemies, gathers secrets instead of armies. Perhaps... perhaps you're more like him than either of us realised."
The memory crystallised into hope. If anyone in the demon realm might be willing to help him, and more importantly, had the power to protect him from his siblings' machinations, it would be Zarathos. His grandfather's territory lay three days' ride to the north, in the Whispering Peaks where ancient treaties and carefully cultivated neutrality had kept his lands free from the constant warfare that plagued other regions.
But first, Xolvion had to escape the castle alive.
The corridors of Castle Valous had never seemed more treacherous as Xolvion made his way through the pre-dawn shadows. Every footstep echoed like thunder in his ears, every flicker of hellish light from the wall sconces seemed to expose him to watching eyes. He'd chosen the servants' passages, routes normally beneath the notice of demon nobility, but even here he felt vulnerable.
His destination was the great library, a vast repository of knowledge that occupied an entire wing of the castle. More importantly, it was where Mira worked, the same demoness who had been his first real experience with his awakening powers all those decades ago. If the secret passages his mother had mentioned in her stories truly existed, Mira would know about them.
The library's massive doors stood slightly ajar, candlelight flickering within. Xolvion slipped inside, his eyes adjusting to the familiar maze of towering shelves that stretched toward the vaulted ceiling. The air smelled of parchment, ink, and something else, that distinctive cinnamon scent he remembered from years past.
"My lord?"
The voice came from the shadows between the history texts, soft and questioning. Mira emerged from behind a cart of books, her appearance unchanged by the passing decades. Demons aged slowly, much slower than humans did, and she still possessed the same warm brown eyes and auburn hair that had first caught his attention. Her simple library robes couldn't disguise the curves beneath, with Xolvion remembering her body with a crude look in his eye.
"Mira," he said, relief flooding through him. "Thank the realm you're here."
She set down the books she'd been carrying, concern creasing her features as she took in his tense posture and travel clothes. "You look troubled, my lord. And... dressed for a journey at rather an odd hour."
"I need your help," Xolvion said without preamble. "My life depends on it."
Her eyes widened, but she didn't question him immediately. Instead, she moved closer, that familiar warmth radiating from her presence. "Tell me what's happened."
Quickly, keeping his voice low, Xolvion explained the threat from his siblings, their plan for the coming-of-age hunt, and his father's convenient absence. With each word, Mira's expression grew more troubled.
"They mean to kill you," she said when he finished, the words heavy with understanding. "During the hunt."
"Yes. Which is why I need to reach my grandfather's territory before they realise I've gone." Xolvion stepped closer, close enough to catch that intoxicating scent that had always clouded his thoughts around her. "My mother once mentioned secret passages that ran beneath the castle. Passages that could get someone past the main gates without being seen from here."
Mira nodded slowly. "The old smuggling routes. They date back to the castle's founding, when the first Lord Valous needed discreet ways to move goods and... people." She studied his face carefully. "But my lord, those passages haven't been used in decades. They're dangerous, possibly collapsed in places."
"More dangerous than staying here with my so crazy brothers and sisters?"
She conceded the point with a rueful smile. "Fair enough." Moving to one of the larger reading tables, she pulled out several ancient maps from a locked drawer. "These are the original architectural plans. I've been studying them for years, purely academic interest, you understand."
As she spread the maps across the table, Xolvion found himself standing close enough to feel the warmth of her body. The proximity stirred memories of their past encounters, but more than that, it awakened something deeper. The same connection he'd felt all those years ago, stronger now, more refined.
"Here," Mira pointed to a section of the map that showed the library's foundations. "There's an entrance behind the genealogy section. It leads to a tunnel that runs beneath the castle's eastern wall, emerging in the Thornwood Forest about two miles from the main road."
"And you're certain it's still passable?"
"I..." She hesitated, colour rising in her cheeks. "I've explored parts of it. Curiosity, mainly. The section near the library is sound, though you'll need to crawl for some of it."
Xolvion turned to face her fully, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. "Mira, I can't express how grateful I am. If there's ever anything I can do to repay you—"
"There is something," she interrupted, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Before you go... I know this might be the last time I see you. And I've never forgotten our night, years ago, when you..." She said, turning slightly red.
The air between them seemed to crackle with possibility. Xolvion could feel his power responding to her proximity, that subtle energy that marked his succubus heritage stirring to life. But more than that, he could sense her genuine desire, her need for connection that went beyond mere physical attraction.
"Is that right?" he asked, feeling his pants grow slightly tighter.
Instead of answering with words, she pressed her lips to his. The kiss was electric, carrying with it all the longing and unspoken feelings that had built up over the decades since their first encounter.
As they broke apart, both breathing heavily, Xolvion could see the change in her eyes. The same adoration he remembered, but enhanced, deepened. And he could feel it run through his body as his incubus powers flowed, causing her to slowly become more and more his. However, that would have to wait.
"The passage," she whispered against his lips. "We should... before someone comes looking."
Hand in hand, they made their way to the genealogy section, a dusty corner of the library where few ever ventured. Behind a shelf of crumbling family trees, Mira pressed against a seemingly solid section of wall. With a soft grinding sound, a narrow opening appeared.
"The tunnel drops down about ten feet initially," she explained, producing a small light crystal from her robes. "Then it levels out. Follow it straight for about a mile, you'll know you're getting close to the exit when you start to smell fresh air instead of just stone."
Xolvion accepted the crystal, tucking it safely into his travel pack. "What will you tell them when they discover I'm gone?"
"The truth, that I saw nothing unusual. I work nights often enough that my presence here won't be questioned." She smiled, though worry still clouded her features. "Your grandfather... do you truly think he'll help you?"
"I have to believe he will. He's the only family I have left who might see value in what I am rather than dwelling on what I'm not." Xolvion kissed her once more, pouring all his gratitude and affection into the gesture. "Thank you, Mira. For everything."
"Be safe, my lord. And... when you reclaim your birthright, remember those who stood by you when you had nothing."
The words sent a thrill through him. Not if he reclaimed his position, but when. Her faith in him was humbling and empowering in equal measure.
Taking a deep breath, Xolvion squeezed through the narrow opening. The passage beyond was cramped and ancient, carved from the living rock beneath the castle. As he began his descent, he heard the soft sound of the entrance sealing behind him.
There was no turning back now. He was committed to this path, whatever it might lead. Behind him lay death and betrayal. Ahead lay uncertainty, but also possibility.
As he crawled through the darkness, guided only by Mira's crystal and her knowledge now flowing through his enhanced memory, Xolvion allowed himself to hope. His siblings thought they were eliminating a weak rival. Instead, they were forcing him to become something far more dangerous, a survivor with nothing left to lose and everything to gain.
The journey to his grandfather's territory would be perilous, but it was also his first step toward the power he would need to reclaim his birthright. They had underestimated him for the last time.