Once Betrayed Never Forgotten

Chapter 112: Descending

A shiver runs down my spine, my heart pounding in my chest, the memory of the vision gnawing at my mind. “Let’s go,” I say, my voice steady, though the unease twists in my gut, the darkness pressing in around me as we descend into the tunnel.

I take one last look behind me at the moonlit graveyard before I’m engulfed by the loamy earth, the damp scent of ancient soil, moss and stone filling my nose, the darkness pressing down on me. The cold, clammy walls close in around me, their rough surfaces brushing against my arms as I step forward, descending down a long, narrow stone staircase encrusted with moss and lichen.

Pyra has wreathed herself in flames, transforming herself into a magnificent fiery beacon lighting the way for Bloodbane and I. Aleksandr walks ahead of her, outside of the golden halo of light she casts, obviously not needing her illumination to see the way.

Makes sense, I guess. He’s a creature of the night – it tracks that he’d be able to see in the dark.

After walking for some time, we finally emerge into the vast network of catacombs, rows of crumbling bones lining the walls, their empty eye sockets staring back at me, their bony fingers intertwined in an eternal grip. The air is heavy with the scent of decay and dust, the faint sound of dripping water echoing through the labyrinthine corridors.

We weave through the catacombs, the darkness pressing in around us, the weight of centuries pressing down on my shoulders. My gaze sweeps over countless tombs that line the passageways, their entrances gaping black volds.

“This way,” Aleksandr says, his voice echoing off the stone walls, his icy blue eyes gleaming as he leads us down a twisting corridor.

the

We follow him, the scent of must and decay growing stronger, the sound of our footsteps echoing off the stone floor. The corridor opens into a vast chamber, its walls lined with ancient books, their spines cracked and faded, dust and cobwebs clinging to their pages. Pyrn uses her fire magic to light the sconces on the walls, her golden Bames illuminating the cavernous library.

My breath catches, my eyes widening as I take in the vast collection, each book a relic of a forgotten era. At the center of the room, beneath a glass case, sits a book bound in gold, its green text gleaming in the dim light.

“The library,” I whisper, my pulse quickening, the vision flashing in my mind.

Kieran steps forward, his gaze fixed on the glass case, his hazel eyes gleaming. It would appear so,” he says, his voice tinged with me.

We step closer, the book’s green text shimmering beneath the glass, its pages preserved against the ravages of time. The words glow in the dim light, their letters etched in intricate pattems, their meaning hidden beneath their ancient script.

A voice, soft and melodic, like the song of a bird, echoes in my mind, wrapping around me like a haunting melody

A

“Find me,” it whispers, its words carrying on the breeze, drifting through the chamber. “Hurry. Please, Arlanna…”

1 whirl around, my gaze sweeping over the darkened library, but the chamber dissolves into a swirling void of grey nothingness, the darkness pressing in around me.

Panic rises in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my vision spinning. The void stretches out before me, a vast, empty expanse, its oppressive emptiness crushing me from all sides.

Bonus

I scream, my voice tearing through the darkness, but the sound is swallowed by the void, fading into nothingness. The darkness closes in, pressing against my skin, suffocating, until the void gives way, the catacombs coming back into focus.

07:03

my vision clearing, the stone walls and rows of bones reappearing around me, My hands grip the sword’s hilt, my knuckles white, my breath gasp. coming in ragged pants,

“Arianna,” Aleksandrs valce breaks through the fog of panic, his hand gripping my arm, his blue eyes wide with concern. ‘Are you alright? What happened?”

I tremble, my breath slowing my heart pounding in my chest. ‘I’m ok, I say, my voice trembling. But we need to find her, soon. I think that… maybe time is running out.”

Aleksandr’s gaze hardens, his hand tightening around my am. “It certainly is,” he agrees, his voice low. “Ever since Verde, the Earth guardian, disappeared, this realm had been dangerously out of balance, growing worse with every century. It is now on the verge of ecological disaster – and it’s never been closer to self destruction than it is now. Time is of the essence. If we don’t find her soon…

“Kaboom!” Kieran says, clapping his hands together dramatically. “Or, maybe splat, or poof or-!” He continues making sound effects, undecided about

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Chapter 112 Descending

what the end of the world will sound like, until Aleksandr snaps “Silence yourself, you Scottish moron,” and shuts him up.

“What do we do now?” Bloodbane asks, stepping forward and placing a hand on the glass case in the library’s centre. “Do we break the glass?”

It seems sacrilegious to break this ancient glass, possibly hundreds or thousands of years old, but I don’t see what choice we have. If we’re going to find answers, they’ll be in this book – and there’s only one way to see what’s inside.

Drawing on my blood magic, I form a large mallet. It feels solid and weighty in my hands, perfect for the task at hand–or so I think. I swing it down hard against the glass. The sound of the impact echoes around us. But when I look, the glass is completely unmarked, not even a scratch,

“Stubborn, isn’t it?” Bloodbane remarks dryly. His voice echoes slightly in the cold, damp air of the entacombs,

Frustrated, I reshape my blood into a heavier, more formidable hammer. This time, when I strike the glass, I put all my strength behind it. Again, the sound rings out, sharp and loud, but the glass remains infuriatingly intact.

“Let me try,” Bloodbane says, stepping forward. His presence is calm but authoritative. He forms a sword from his blood, razor–sharp and gleaming under the dim firelight. With a precise and powerful swing, he strikes the glass. Yet, just like before, it remains unscathed as if mocking our efforts.

“It’s as if it’s bulletproof, I mutter, half to myself. The idea of forming a gun and bullets with my blood magic crosses my mind–I’ve made arrows before, and a gun is just another type of projectile. But then I dismiss it. The risk of a bullet ricocheting in this enclosed space is too high.

Aleksandr steps forward. “Step back,” he commands, and we all do. With his superhuman strength, he strikes the glass with his fists. Despite the force of his blows, the glass stands firm, unbroken.

Pyra, watching our failed attempts, steps up. “Perhaps I can melt it. Give me space.”

We all retreat further into the shadows of the library as Pyra transforms into a raging inferno. The heat is intense, scorching even from a distance. She places her glowing white–hot hands on the glass, the air around us shimmering with the heat. She screams with the effort, the sound echoing painfully around the catacombs.

But still, the glass does not melt. With a final, frustrated cry, Pyra burns out. Her flames flicker

er and die, leaving her fainting from exhaustion. Bloodbane is by her side in an instant, catching her before she can hit the cold stone floor.

The silence that falls over us is heavy, lilled with defeat. Aleksandr’s gaze flickers to Kieran, who has yet to try his hand. ‘Well, don’t you want to have a go? Aleksandr’s tone is sarcastic, tinged with frustration. “We’re running out of options, so you might as well.”

Kieran smiles, a slow, knowing grin spreading across his face. “Nah, that’d be pointless. But now that you mention it, perhaps we still have one option yet.” His gaze shifts, subtly nodding towards my hip

Confused, I follow his gaze to the Earth Angel’s sword still sheathed at my side. The realization hits me like a thunderclap, “It’s so obvious, why didn’t I think of it earlier!” I exclaim, drawing the sword. Its emerald gleams brilliantly in the hill, catching the scant light

a fine sparkling dust that

With a deep breath, I raise the sword and strike the glass. It shatters with a beautiful, resounding crash, disintegrating

ing into a hangs in the air like a radiant mist. The book is now exposed, lying open and vulnerable on the velvet lining of the broken case.

We all exhale, a collective sigh of relief and anticipation filling the air. I step forward, the first to approach the now–unprotected tome. The pages are old, their edges gilded and worn, but the text is vibrant, glowing faintly green as if imbued with the life force of the Earth itself

“Let’s see what secrets it holds,” I murmur.

Bonus

07:00

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Dany Zlatkova

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