Bound by Magic And Blood

A cold breeze whispered through the night, carrying with it the faint scent of damp earth and a hint of forgotten magic. The group crouched before the entrance of an old, forgotten tunnel, hidden beneath the outer walls of the Central Kingdom. Overgrown vines and years of neglect had buried it, but Ezekeil knew exactly where to look. He knelt, brushing aside tangled roots, revealing a rusted iron grate.

"This tunnel was once an escape route for the royal family," he murmured, his fingers curling around the rusty metal. "It's been abandoned for years, but if we're lucky, it still leads into Rose Palace."

Jack peered into the darkness, his usual bravado momentarily faltering. "And if we're unlucky?"

Ezekeil shot him a flat look, his expression unreadable. "Then we die before even reaching the archive."

Maya sighed. "Reassuring."

Mekeala, undeterred by the tension in the air, straightened her shoulders. Her pulse was steady, the weight of their mission settling into her bones. "We don't have a choice. Let's go."

One by one, they slipped inside, the tunnel swallowing them in darkness. The air was thick with dust and damp earth, every breath tinged with age. The sound of water dripping echoed through the long, twisting passage, the only sign of life in the ancient underbelly of the kingdom. As they moved deeper, the tunnel narrowed, forcing them to tread carefully over uneven ground. The path was treacherous, and the musty smell of decay only added to the growing tension.

Suddenly, Jack stumbled, cursing as he nearly lost his footing. His hand shot out to steady himself, brushing against a rusted metal plate.

"A pressure trap," he muttered, frowning. "Looks old, but I wouldn't risk stepping on another."

Ezekeil led the way, stepping over the decayed remnants of old security measures. The tunnel twisted and turned, the walls closing in, the suffocating darkness pressing on them with each step. The passage felt like a labyrinth, leading them deeper into the heart of a forgotten kingdom.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they reached a set of stone steps leading upward. Ezekeil pressed his ear against the wooden hatch above them. Silence. He paused, assessing their situation before lifting the hatch with careful, practiced movements.

The dimly lit interior of a storage room greeted them—an unassuming entrance, but it was the threshold to the Rose Palace. They had arrived.

But they weren't alone.

A figure lingered in the shadows of the tunnel, hidden just beyond their view. The faintest gleam of violet eyes pierced the darkness.

Tom smirked. How predictable.

As the group emerged from the tunnel, they didn't waste a moment. The palace was quiet, but the reality of their mission set in. They needed disguises—fast.

Soft voices drifted down the corridor as two maids, laden with linens, passed by a nearby chamber. Mekeala exhaled sharply, her eyes narrowing.

"We need their uniforms," she said, her voice steady.

Maya hesitated, the weight of their decisions pressing on her. "How—?"

Before she could finish, Mekeala flicked her wrist, murmuring an incantation under her breath. A faint shimmer of silver light flickered around the maids. Their eyes fluttered shut, their bodies crumpling into an enchanted sleep.

Jack blinked. "...Remind me never to fall asleep around you."

Ezekeil and Jack dragged the unconscious maids into a small side room, while Mekeala and Maya quickly stripped off the uniforms, changing as swiftly as possible.

The group moved silently, their pace quickening. Ezekeil and Jack scouted ahead, slipping into the palace halls with practiced ease. Around the next corner, they found two palace guards stationed at an entrance, standing watch.

"We need their uniforms," Ezekeil muttered under his breath.

Jack cracked his knuckles, ready for action. "On it."

Moving in seamless synchronization, the two boys slipped behind the guards. With precise, silent strikes, Ezekeil knocked out the first guard, while Jack incapacitated the second with a swift blow across the back of the head. They dragged the unconscious guards back into the side room.

As Ezekeil fastened the stolen armor over his own clothes, Jack groaned, shifting uncomfortably in the bulky armor. "This thing is heavier than I thought."

Mekeala, now dressed as a maid, approached the unconscious bodies once more, casting another spell. A faint glow enveloped them.

"They won't wake up until I break the spell," Mekeala said, her voice calm yet strained from the effort. "That should give us time."

Ezekeil nodded, his gaze sharp. "Then let's move."

But as they stepped back into the halls, a faint but unsettling sensation settled in Ezekeil's gut. The familiar feeling of being watched.

He glanced down the corridor, scanning the flickering torchlight. Nothing.

But he knew better than to dismiss it.

Dressed as palace staff, they moved quietly through the corridors, each footstep falling with calculated precision. Mekeala's stomach twisted with unease. This palace belonged to her father. Being so close to King Caesar filled her with a strange, unsettling chill.

Suddenly, Ezekeil halted.

Maya's brow furrowed. "What is it?"

His golden eyes narrowed as he scanned the shadows. The sensation had grown stronger.

Jack exhaled impatiently. "I swear, if you say 'we're being watched,' I'm out."

Ezekeil didn't respond. He just pushed forward, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the Royal Archive. The stone doors loomed before them, their massive size indicative of the vault of knowledge they protected.

Maya moved swiftly, tracing the lock's enchantment with her fingertips. A soft blue glow pulsed, and with a faint click, the lock released.

Jack smirked. "Too easy."

They slipped inside, the scent of aged parchment and dust filling the air. Towering bookshelves lined the chamber, filled with centuries of forbidden knowledge, its walls heavy with the weight of history. Mekeala's fingers hovered over the spines of the books, scanning for anything related to Caelithar's past.

Then—her breath hitched.

A worn tome sat among the others, embossed with the royal emblem. She reached for it—

And then, a voice—a smooth, amused whisper—echoed through the chamber, laced with something darker.

"How bold of you… sneaking into the king's vault of secrets."

Mekeala froze. The hairs on her arms stood on end as a slow, deliberate clap echoed from the shadows.

She turned, heart hammering. A figure emerged, silhouetted against the dim light. Violet eyes gleamed in the darkness.

Tom smiled.