The weathered parchment appeared entirely unremarkable at first glance, looking heavily worn, deeply yellowed, and fragile with age. Yet, the exact moment Seraphyne's golden eyes locked onto the document, her heartbeat accelerated into a frantic rhythm against her ribs.
This was undeniably the missing second page of the mysterious letter, a crucial piece of evidence that should never have fallen into enemy hands. It was the very document that had nearly cost Elara her life, and the highly coveted prize that the aggressive forces of the Crimson Court had been ruthlessly hunting for all this time.
The hooded man maintained his steady posture, calmly extending the fragile document further toward her chest. "The absolute truth of your forgotten identity begins right here," he repeated, his voice echoing smoothly off the distant stone ceiling.
Seraphyne did not make a single move to reach for the parchment, remaining completely frozen as she evaluated the tactical situation. Neither did Kieran, who stood resolutely at her side with his sharp silver eyes fixed suspiciously on the stranger's hidden face.
Years from now, this young boy would grow to become one of the most powerful and feared Alphas on the entire continent. At this exact moment, however, he looked precisely like a vulnerable child instinctively trying to protect his mother from a highly dangerous adversary.
The heartwarming sight nearly made a faint smile touch her guarded lips, but she quickly suppressed the emotion to focus on the threat. "Why?" she demanded, her single question cutting through the damp air of the chamber with a cold, sharp precision.
The hooded man paused for a brief moment, tilting his head slightly beneath his dark fabric. "Why what, Your Highness?"
"Why are you handing this vital piece of information directly to me?" she countered, her gaze narrowing into a dangerous glare.
The stranger's expression became completely unreadable as the dim torchlight flickered across his obscured features. "I am giving it to you simply because it rightfully belongs to you," he answered smoothly.
"That is a completely empty statement, not an actual answer," Seraphyne shot back, refusing to accept his vague reasoning.
"No," the man admitted quietly, a sudden and strange layer of deep sadness creeping into his smooth tone. "You are entirely correct. It is not a sufficient answer."
The sprawling chamber fell into an oppressive silence once more as the two adversaries held each other's intense gaze. Far above their heads, another massive explosion violently shook the ancient ruins, sending a fresh wave of dust drifting down from the cracked ceiling. The structural tremors served as a grim reminder that their time in this subterranean vault was rapidly running out.
The hooded man finally released a slow, heavy breath, his shoulders dropping slightly with an immense weight. "I am giving it to you because I am thoroughly tired," he confessed.
The unexpected answer genuinely surprised Seraphyne, causing her to shift her defensive posture slightly. "Tired of what?"
"I am completely tired of standing by and watching the exact same historical tragedy repeat itself over and over again," he explained. The heavy words felt oddly sincere, carrying a dangerous emotional weight that made her internal alarms sound.
Seraphyne absolutely hated dealing with sincere enemies because they were invariably the most complicated and unpredictable variables on a battlefield. The stranger turned his head slightly to look toward the sweeping mural painted on the far stone wall. He stared at the illustration of the identical twin princesses and the grand kingdom that no longer existed anywhere in the modern world.
Then, he turned back to her and spoke in a urgent whisper. "Read the words for yourself."
The sudden urgency vibrating in his deep voice successfully caught her complete attention, overriding her lingering caution. Slowly and deliberately, Seraphyne reached out her hand and accepted the fragile piece of weathered parchment from his gloved fingers. The texture of the paper felt strangely and intimately familiar beneath her fingertips, sending a subtle jolt through her system.
It felt precisely as though she had handled this exact document before, in a distant lifetime she could no longer consciously recall. A faint tremor passed through her hand as she carefully unfolded the delicate page to reveal the ink beneath.
The elegant handwriting immediately caught her sharp attention, displaying a precise and beautiful script that matched the first page perfectly. This was undeniably the work of the original Seraphyne, the enigmatic woman whose physical body she now occupied. It was the writing of a woman who had somehow known with absolute certainty that this dark future would eventually come to pass.
Seraphyne took a slow, deep breath to steady her mind before she focused her eyes on the first lines.
[If you have successfully found this hidden page, then one of two tragic things has inevitably happened to my plan. Either I have completely failed to survive the purge, or Celestine has somehow succeeded in keeping you safe.]
The cavernous chamber became completely silent as she paused, the only sound being the distant rumble of the battle above. The hooded man slowly lowered his dark gaze to the floor, while Kieran moved an inch closer to press against her side.
Seraphyne swallowed hard and continued to read the elegant script shifting across the yellowed parchment.
[If my identical sister managed to find you first before the enemy did, I need you to listen to her words very carefully. Trust her implicitly, and trust only her in this treacherous world. There will eventually come a day when everyone around you claims to know the absolute truth of your origin. They will all be lying directly to your face for their own selfish gain. Some of them will lie to secure their own power, while some will lie out of sheer terror of what you represent. There are even those who will lie because they genuinely believe they are protecting your fragile mind from the trauma. Do not believe a single one of them, no matter how convincing they seem, and believe only in Celestine.]
The written words struck her emotional core significantly harder than she had originally anticipated they would. She had only just met the crimson-haired stranger a few minutes prior in the damp, dark tunnel. Yet, despite her immense confusion, her missing memories, and the entirely impossible circumstances of their meeting, a deep part of her soul desperately wanted to trust the woman.
She forced her eyes down to the next paragraph, her heart hammering violently against her ribs.
[The powerful forces of the Crown fear us more than you can possibly comprehend. They do not fear us because of what we currently are, but rather because of the terrifying entity we can eventually become if united. They will try to tell you that our bloodline is fundamentally cursed by the gods. They will claim that we are nothing but dangerous monsters that must be put down for the safety of the realm. They will even tell you that an ancient prophecy decreed that only one twin princess could ever be allowed to survive the aftermath. That statement is an absolute lie manufactured to divide us. The true prophecy never actually demanded our untimely deaths, but only mandated our permanent separation.]
Seraphyne froze completely in her tracks, her breathing catching in her throat as the word registered in her mind. The prophecy was finally mentioned in plain ink, providing the first actual concrete detail of her hidden past. It was not a complete or thorough explanation of the conflict, but it was enough to create a dozen more urgent questions in her mind.
Beside her rigid form, she noticed the hooded man's expression change subtly, his brow furrowing as if he had not expected that specific sentence to be written. The observation was highly interesting to her tactical mind, proving that even this well-informed leader did not know everything.
She hardened her focus and pressed onward through the elegant rows of handwritten text.
[If you are currently reading this warning, then it means the enemy forces are already actively searching for the location of the lost Crown. You must not, under any circumstances, allow them to discover the entrance to the hidden Vault. The old key you possess is simply not enough to grant access, nor is the royal blood rushing through your veins. Even the detailed map will fail you because three specific heirs must stand together in unison before the ancient gate can ever open. Remember this requirement above all else. There must be three heirs present at the threshold. Not a single survivor, and not a pair of sisters, but three.]
The vast chamber went entirely still as the finality of the statement settled heavily into the damp air. It felt as though the very atmosphere had stopped moving around them, freezing them in a moment of sheer disbelief.
Three heirs? Seraphyne questioned herself, her brow furrowing deeply as she analyzed the mathematical impossibility of the claim. She knew of her own complicated existence, and she had just witnessed the reality of Celestine's survival. But she had absolutely no idea who the mysterious third sibling could possibly be in this broken royal lineage.
The urgent question immediately surfaced in her thoughts, only to vanish just as quickly when the next paragraph captured her complete attention.
[Most importantly of all, if the forces of the Crown manage to locate your position before Celestine can reach you, you must run immediately. Do not attempt to fight their champions, do not try to negotiate terms, and do not trust a single word they utter. They have already brutally killed our biological mother and systematically destroyed our entire beautiful kingdom to hide their crimes. And if they ever happen to discover the terrifying truth regarding your mysterious third bloodline, they will never allow you to live another day.]
The surrounding world seemed to grind to a complete halt as the horrific sentences blurred violently before her eyes. Her mother was dead, her ancestral kingdom was completely destroyed, and the mention of a third bloodline struck her like a physical blow.
A sudden, blinding headache erupted with vicious force directly behind her eyes, forcing her to wince against the sudden agony. The silver pendant resting against her covered chest suddenly grew intensely warm, radiating a desperate, pulsing energy through her body.
An unbidden memory fragment instantly surfaced from the deepest recesses of her mind, flashing with vivid clarity. She clearly saw a beautiful woman with vibrant crimson hair laughing joyfully while holding two small infants in her loving arms. The phantom woman began to softly sing a beautiful, soothing lullaby that filled the air with absolute peace.
Then, the peaceful scene was violently shattered by an explosion of bright red blood that splattered across the stone walls. The terrifying vision broke into a million pieces, forcing Seraphyne to gasp heavily for air as she snapped back to reality.
The fragile parchment nearly slipped from her trembling fingers, but she managed to maintain her grip at the last possible second. Kieran immediately reached out his small hands and grabbed her arm with a firm, grounding force.
"Mother, what is wrong?" the young boy asked, his voice heavily laced with a profound sense of panic and concern.
The simple, familiar title immediately grounded her consciousness, acting as a vital anchor that pulled her out of the horrific memory. She took a ragged breath and forced her eyes down to read the final, messy section of the old letter. The elegant handwriting had noticeably deteriorated into a shaky, hurried script, indicating it had been written under tremendous pressure or imminent threat.
[If you are reading these final words, then it means I am probably already gone from this world. That is entirely alright with me because I consciously chose to walk this dangerous path to ensure your survival. But there is one absolute truth that you must know before you take another step forward. The mysterious person who successfully saved our lives during the purge was never a traitor to the kingdom. He was, in fact, the most loyal and honorable knight in the entire royal service. Everything he did happened because he strictly obeyed our mother the Queen's final, desperate order. You must find him at all costs because he alone knows where the last hidden gate is concealed. And if you ever find yourself doubting your path or your identity, you must look up at the stars above. We used to make a sacred promise to one another beneath them when we were children. We promised to never leave each other behind, no matter how dark the world became.
Signed, S.]
The long letter ended abruptly with the single initial, leaving the vast underground chamber shrouded in an absolute silence. No one in the room spoke a single word, and no one made any attempt to move from their designated positions. The beautiful, heartbreaking words of the final promise lingered heavily in the damp air, touching something deep within her.
For several long seconds, Seraphyne simply stared down at the faded parchment, processing the immense weight of the family legacy. Then, she slowly and deliberately lifted her head to look directly across the short distance separating her from the stranger. Her golden eyes sharpened into deadly focuses as she stared straight at the hooded man.
"The Queen was the one who originally ordered my permanent escape from the palace," she stated, her voice flat and even.
The stranger nodded his head slowly in confirmation. "Yes, that is correct."
"And the man who helped us flee was actually a loyal knight, not a common criminal," she continued, pushing for validation.
Another slow nod followed his words. "Yes, he was the finest warrior we had."
"Which means the ancient prophecy was deliberately altered by someone to manipulate the factions," she concluded, her tone dropping dangerously.
The hooded man's expression darkened significantly beneath his dark cloak. "Yes, it was rewritten to ensure your destruction."
The temperature inside the cavernous chamber seemed to grow noticeably colder as the final, terrifying realization settled into her mind. She realized there was only one remaining question left to ask, the most important and dangerous inquiry of all.
Seraphyne's golden eyes flared with a lethal light as she locked onto his form. "Who exactly was the person who changed the prophecy?"
The hooded man froze completely in place, his confident demeanor vanishing instantly for the very first time since their encounter had begun. A suffocating, dangerous silence followed her question as the man struggled to find his words in the dim light.
Then, a clear, beautiful voice suddenly answered the question from the deep darkness directly behind their positions. The voice did not belong to the stranger, nor did it belong to Kieran or Seraphyne herself. It was a woman's voice, carrying a freezing, authoritative tone that commanded immediate attention.
"The wicked forces of the Crown were the ones who changed it," the voice declared with an icy precision.
A pair of glowing crimson eyes slowly appeared beyond the heavy fabric of the shadows, holding their gaze. Celestine stepped fully into the torchlight of the chamber, her identical face twisted into an expression of absolute fury.