Chronicles of the Forsaken

The passageway was narrow and damp, its stone walls slick with moisture. The torches lining the corridor flickered weakly, casting long, writhing shadows that seemed to dance in eerie anticipation. Seraphina followed Caius in silence, her senses heightened, her mind racing. She had made a choice—a dangerous one. But there was no turning back.

Her footsteps echoed softly against the stone, the sound swallowed by the darkness ahead. Caius walked ahead of her, his posture relaxed, yet there was an air of knowing about him, as if he was entirely in control of the situation. Seraphina despised that. She had spent her entire life fighting against being controlled, and yet here she was, willingly stepping into a plan she had no hand in creating.

She hated it. But she couldn't deny the thrill of it either.

After what felt like an eternity, they emerged into a large underground chamber. A massive table stood at the center, its surface covered with maps, scrolls, and strange metallic trinkets that gleamed under the dim candlelight. The walls were lined with bookshelves filled with ancient tomes, their spines worn with age. The scent of parchment and wax filled the air.

Seraphina folded her arms, her gaze sharp as she took in the room. "Where are we?" she asked, her voice steady.

Caius smirked as he leaned against the table. "This is where the real war begins," he said. "The nobility thinks they hold the power in this kingdom, but they have no idea of the forces working beneath them. There are others, like you, who are tired of being pawns in someone else's game."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes. "And what exactly is your role in this war, Caius?"

His smirk widened, but there was something unreadable in his gaze. "I'm a strategist. I know where the pieces move before the game even begins. And you, Seraphina, you are not a piece—you're the player who will tip the scales."

A slow chill crept up her spine at his words. She had always believed herself to be ruthless, but there was something unsettling about how easily Caius spoke of war and power as if he had orchestrated a hundred downfalls before.

She stepped closer to the table and scanned the maps. They were marked with red ink and detailed strategic points, the names of noble families, and—most intriguing of all—secret routes leading in and out of the royal palace. Her gaze lingered on a name circled in bold strokes.

The Aurelian Throne.

Her father's throne.

Her fingers tightened around the edge of the table. "You want to bring the kingdom to its knees," she murmured. "But tell me, Caius—what do you gain from all of this?"

Caius chuckled, a dark sound that sent shivers down her spine. "Revenge. Order. Call it what you want. The kingdom is rotting from the inside, but its rulers are too blind to see it. I intend to fix that."

Seraphina's lips curled into a smirk of her own. "And I suppose I'm supposed to be your weapon?"

Caius leaned in, his voice a whisper against the candlelight. "No, my dear. You are meant to be the queen of the ashes."

The words sent a rush of something powerful through her veins. She had always been feared, always been hated. But this—this was something else. This was an invitation to carve her own destiny into the very bones of the kingdom.

She glanced once more at the maps, her mind already calculating. "If I agree to this, it will be on my terms," she said. "No more running. No more hiding in the shadows."

Caius nodded, his expression unreadable. "Then let the real game begin."

But just as he spoke, a distant rumble shook the chamber. The torches flickered violently, and in the distance, the sound of approaching footsteps echoed through the tunnels.

Seraphina's pulse quickened. The guards.

Caius' smirk didn't waver, but his eyes sharpened with something unreadable. "Looks like we have company."

Seraphina turned towards the entrance of the chamber, her fingers curling into fists. The real war hadn't even started yet, and already, the kingdom was moving against her.

But let them come.

She was ready.

The heavy thud of boots against stone filled the underground chamber, the sound reverberating like a war drum. The guards were closing in. Seraphina felt the weight of the moment settles onto her shoulders, but instead of fear, a rush of exhilaration coursed through her veins.

She turned to Caius, who remained eerily composed. He didn't move, didn't flinch—he merely observed, as though the chaos unravelling around them was nothing more than a well-scripted play he had already read the ending to.

Seraphina's eyes darted to the only visible exit—a narrow tunnel that twisted into darkness. But before she could make a decision, a deep voice bellowed from the corridor beyond.

"In the name of the Aurelian Throne, surrender now!"

The words echoed, bouncing off the stone walls like an omen. Seraphina's heart pounded, but she did not freeze. Surrender was never an option.

Caius let out a slow sigh. "Looks like we're out of time."

Without another word, he moved. In a swift motion, he grabbed one of the metallic trinkets from the table—a small, spherical device with intricate engravings. With a flick of his wrist, he threw it toward the entrance.

The moment it hit the ground, a thick, inky smoke exploded into the air, filling the chamber with blinding darkness. Seraphina didn't hesitate. She bolted towards the tunnel.

The guards cursed and shouted as they stumbled through the smoke, their movements clumsy in the sudden blindness. She heard the clang of swords being unsheathed, and the scrape of metal against stone.

Caius was right behind her, his movements unnervingly silent.

They sprinted through the tunnel, the damp air clinging to Seraphina's skin. The scent of earth and decay filled her nostrils, but she didn't falter. Every footstep behind them grew more distant. They were losing the guards.

But just as relief started to creep in, the tunnel ahead opened into a massive underground cavern. And there, standing in the centre, waiting for them—was a hooded figure.

Seraphina skidded to a halt, her breath sharp. The figure's presence was suffocating, a looming shadow that seemed to drink in the darkness.

A slow, deliberate chuckle echoed through the cavern.

"Running so soon, little serpent?"

Seraphina's blood turned to ice. That voice. It was unmistakable.

Her eldest brother, Prince Aldric.

Her mind raced. How had he found them so quickly? How did he know she was here? Caius stiffened beside her, but Seraphina didn't look at him. She only had eyes for the man standing in front of her, the one person who had always seen through her, the one who had hated her just as much as she had hated him.

Aldric took a step forward, his hood falling back, revealing sharp, piercing eyes that gleamed like polished steel. "Did you really think I wouldn't notice my little sister scheming in the shadows?"

Seraphina clenched her fists. Damn him. Damn, his ability to read her. Damn his unwavering loyalty to the throne.

"I don't have time for your theatrics, Aldric," she snapped. "Move, or I'll make you."

Aldric sighed, almost disappointed. "You've always been foolish, Seraphina. And now you're playing with fire you don't understand."

His hand moved to his sword. Seraphina knew what was coming. She could see it in his stance, in the way his fingers flexed against the hilt.

The battle had already begun. And there would be no turning back.