Get up, Valeria."
My command hung in the damp air, heavy with a power I didn't understand.
The armored woman rose. The motion was fluid, accompanied by the clinking of obsidian plates. Now that she was standing at her full height, she was imposing—easily a head taller than me. She looked down, her icy blue eyes scanning my face with intense scrutiny.
"As you wish," she said. Her tone was respectful, but there was an edge to it. It wasn't the blind obedience of a robot; it was the calculated deference of a predator acknowledging a temporary alpha.
I tried to take a step toward her, but the world tilted violently to the left. My knees buckled.
"Careful," Valeria said.
She moved with a speed that shouldn't have been possible for someone wearing heavy plate mail. Before I hit the ground, a cold, hard arm wrapped around my waist, hoisting me up effortlessly.
Her armor was freezing against my skin, sending a fresh wave of shivers through my body. But beneath that cold, I felt a strange, vibrating hum—like a high-tension wire carrying a massive current.
"You are leaking," she stated flatly, looking at my chest.
I looked down. The Red Seal was no longer glowing blindly, but the skin around it was red and irritated. I felt a hollow sensation in my stomach, not hunger for food, but a deep, spiritual exhaustion.
"Leaking?" I mumbled, trying to regain my footing. "What do you mean?"
"Mana. Soul force. Life essence. Call it what you will," Valeria explained, her face impassive. She didn't let go of my waist. "You summoned me from the Void. You bound my soul to this plane of existence. That requires energy. Since you possess no external mana source, the Seal is harvesting it directly from your life force."
My blood ran cold. "You mean... you're killing me?"
"Slowly," she corrected. "At this rate, you have perhaps three hours before your heart stops and your soul shrivels into a husk. If you die, the tether snaps, and I return to the Void. Therefore, it is in my best interest to keep you alive."
"How reassuring," I muttered dryly. "So, how do we stop it?"
Valeria looked around at the swirling mist. "We cannot stop it. But we can manage it. You need to learn to close the valve, to control the flow. But not here. The Mist is thinning, which means the Night Walkers will wake soon. We need shelter."
She pointed a gauntleted finger toward a dark shape looming in the distance, barely visible through the gray haze. "There. A ruin. It offers stone walls. Better than open ground."
Without asking for permission, she shifted her grip, essentially carrying me as we began to walk. Her strength was absurd. I felt like a ragdoll in her arms.
"Who are you, really?" I asked as we crunched over the carpet of bone shards. "You said you are the First Blade of the Ashen Guard. What does that mean?"
Valeria stared straight ahead, her profile sharp and noble. "I was a general of the Old Empire. We served the Sovereign. When the Great Collapse happened, we were... repurposed. I have spent the last millennium in the space between life and death, waiting for the Seal to activate."
She glanced down at me. "You do not remember the Sovereign? Or the Empire?"
"I don't even remember my last name," I admitted.
"A pity," she said, though she didn't sound particularly sympathetic. "An amnesiac master. Fate has a twisted sense of humor."
We reached the ruin after what felt like an eternity. It was the remains of a small chapel or mausoleum, built from black stone that seemed to drink the light. The roof had collapsed long ago, but the thick walls were still standing.
Valeria kicked the heavy wooden door. It shattered inward, rotting wood exploding into dust. She stepped inside, dragging me with her, and scanned the shadows.
"Clear," she announced, depositing me gently against a stone sarcophagus in the center of the room. "Sit. Conserve your energy."
I leaned back against the cold stone, gasping for breath. The hollow feeling inside me was growing. My vision blurred at the edges.
"Valeria," I whispered. "I feel... heavy."
She knelt before me, her face unreadable. "The bond is fresh. Your body is not accustomed to supporting an existence as dense as mine. You need to visualize the Seal. Imagine it as a gate. Right now, it is wide open. You must close it until it is a mere crack."
I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the burning sensation in my chest. I visualized a heavy iron door slamming shut against a raging fire. It was difficult; the fire wanted to consume, to burn
.
"Concentrate," Valeria's voice was sharp. "If you faint now, you will never wake up."
I gritted my teeth, sweat beading on my forehead. Close. Close the damn door.
Slowly, agonizingly, the burning subsided to a dull throb. The exhaustion didn't leave, but the acute feeling of being drained dry lessened.
I opened my eyes, exhaling a long breath. "Did it work?"
"Adequate," Valeria nodded. "You are not as untalented as you look."
"High praise," I replied sarcastically.
Suddenly, the temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
It wasn't the natural chill of the valley. This was a supernatural cold, one that made the moisture in the air freeze into tiny crystals. Valeria stood up instantly, her hand flying to the hilt of her greatsword.
"We are not alone," she hissed.
A giggle echoed through the ruin.
It was a soft, melodious sound, like wind chimes made of glass. It bounced off the stone walls, making it impossible to pinpoint the source.
"Oh, Val... always so stiff. You haven't changed a bit in a thousand years."
A purple mist began to seep from the cracks in the walls, coalescing in the air above the sarcophagus I was leaning on. The smoke swirled and thickened, taking the shape of a woman floating horizontally in the air.
She was translucent, a phantom painted in shades of violet and shadow. She wore a dress that seemed to be made of smoke and spiderwebs, clinging to curves that were dangerously perfect. Her hair was a dark, stormy cloud that defied gravity, floating around her head like a halo.
She rolled in the air, looking down at me with eyes that glowed a luminescent lavender.
"And who is this?" the phantom purred. "A little human? With the Seal?" She drifted closer, hovering inches from my face. I could smell her—lilacs and old parchment. "He smells delicious. Like a fresh cherry waiting to be popped."
Valeria stepped between us, her greatsword half-drawn. "Back away, Seraphina. He is the Master. He is not food."
The phantom, Seraphina, righted herself, floating upright. She looked at Valeria with amusement. "Master? You accepted a bond with this fragile thing? Look at him, Val. He's barely holding his soul inside his body. One good scare and he'll expire."
Seraphina turned her gaze back to me, smiling. It was a predatory smile, revealing teeth that were slightly too sharp.
"I am Seraphina," she introduced herself, giving a mock curtsy in mid-air. "Mistress of Illusions, Weaver of Nightmares, and... currently very bored. Tell me, human, did you wake us up just to die? Or do you have a plan?"
I swallowed hard, trying to keep my voice steady. "I plan to live. And I plan to get out of this valley."
Seraphina laughed, a sound that made my skin crawl in a pleasant, yet terrifying way. "Get out? No one leaves the Grave of the Forgotten, darling. But..."
She drifted closer, ignoring Valeria's threatening posture. She reached out a translucent hand. I expected her fingers to pass through me, but as they neared my cheek, the smoke condensed. Her fingertips became solid, cool and smooth as silk.
She traced the line of my jaw. The contact sent a jolt of electricity through me that made my toes curl. It wasn't pain; it was pure, unadulterated pleasure, mixed with a sudden rush of energy.
"You have potential," she whispered, her face inches from mine. "Your soul is... spicy. I like spicy."
"Do not touch him!" Valeria roared.
The knight swung her massive sword. The blade passed harmlessly through Seraphina's waist, dispersing her form into smoke.
Seraphina rematerialized a few feet away, looking annoyed. "Rude! I was just tasting him."
"He cannot handle a Spirit Link yet," Valeria growled, positioning herself defensively in front of me. "If you try to bond with him now, you will shatter his mind."
"I would be gentle," Seraphina pouted. Then she looked at me, winking. "Unlike our iron-clad friend here, I know how to treat a man. I can give you power, little master. Magic. Knowledge. All I ask is a little... taste now and then."
I looked from the towering, stoic death knight to the floating, seductive wraith.
The Red Seal on my chest pulsed again, reacting to Seraphina's presence. It wasn't hurting anymore. It felt like it was anticipating.
"Stop fighting," I said, my voice gaining a bit of strength from the residual energy Seraphina had transferred with her touch. "Both of you."
They looked at me.
"Valeria, put the sword away. She's intangible; you can't hit her." I turned to the ghost. "Seraphina, if you want a 'taste,' you earn it. I need information. Where exactly are we, and what is guarding the exit?"
Seraphina's smile widened. It was the smile of a cat that had just found a very interesting mouse.
"Direct. I like that," she purred, drifting down to sit—or hover—on the edge of the sarcophagus next to me. "Very well, Master. But be warned... the truth might be scarier than the monsters outside."
She leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper.
"We are in the pit where the Gods threw their mistakes. And the thing guarding the exit? It's wearing the face of the first man you ever killed."
I frowned. "I haven't killed anyone."
Seraphina's eyes glowed brighter. "Not in this life, perhaps. But the Seal remembers. And the Guardian... it is very hungry."