The path revealed by the Bone Sentinel was unlike any Eira had seen.
A spiral staircase descended into the earth, carved not from stone but from interlocking vertebrae—so ancient they groaned underfoot. Glowing veins of crimson light pulsed beneath each step, syncing eerily with the beat of her heart.
Lucien walked beside her, his grip on his sword tight, torchlight casting flickering shadows across his sharp features. He hadn't spoken much since they left the chamber, but Eira could feel the weight of unspoken questions pressing against the silence between them.
"You're thinking too loudly," she said softly.
Lucien glanced at her. "I was just wondering what else lies beneath this city."
She offered him a faint smile. "You and me both."
They reached the bottom of the stairs, stepping into a cavernous hallway lined with towering statues—vampires frozen mid-battle, their expressions caught in eternal defiance. Some held weapons aloft; others clutched relics to their chests as if guarding them from the world.
"These are not just warriors," Eira murmured, brushing her fingers against one statue's cold, stone face. "They're kings. Generals. Guardians of something sacred."
"Or cursed," Lucien said under his breath.
The passage led them into a chamber veined with glowing roots. In the center stood a stone altar, cracked and old, but still humming with residual power. Eira stepped closer, her heart pounding.
Carved into the altar was a circular symbol: a tree with roots descending into a sleeping skull.
Lucien ran his hand over it. "It's the sigil of the Hollow Heart. The center of the city. The place where Valtherion sealed the pact with the other realm."
Eira flinched. "The same pact that took Vaelaria's life."
He looked at her then—his eyes softening. "Are you remembering more of her?"
"Not memories, exactly. Feelings. Flashes. Emotions that don't belong to me, but feel like mine."
Lucien stepped closer. "What do they say?"
"That she loved him," Eira whispered. "But feared what he was becoming. That she was willing to die… to stop it."
Lucien looked away, jaw clenched.
She touched his hand. "But I'm not her. I need to make my own choices."
Their eyes locked.
Lucien exhaled slowly. "Then let's keep going."
The next passage was narrow, forcing them to walk side by side, shoulders brushing. The air thickened with ancient power, and the glow around them dimmed to an eerie, soft blue.
They passed murals etched into the walls—scenes of rituals, sacrifices, and strange celestial gates. One mural caught Eira's attention: a woman with long dark hair, holding a blade above her heart, while a vampire knelt before her with tears in his eyes.
"Do you think this was them?" she asked.
Lucien studied it. "It might be. Or maybe it's happened more than once."
"What do you mean?"
"This city… it repeats things. History here is like blood—cyclical, always returning."
Eira swallowed the chill that crawled up her spine.
They reached a vast open space—an underground garden, wild with ghostly flora. Silver-leafed vines crawled over skeletal trees, their branches heavy with glowing fruit. Pools of violet water reflected fragments of a broken sky above, like mirrors to another realm.
"It's beautiful," she breathed.
"It's a grave," Lucien said, pointing toward the roots. "Look."
Beneath the vines, bones—thousands of them, tangled with roots and crystals. As if the garden had grown by feeding on the dead.
Eira stepped carefully into the garden, and as she passed a gnarled tree, a memory not her own surged through her.
A kiss.
Beneath these branches, in another lifetime.
Valtherion's hands on her face, lips pressed to hers with desperate tenderness. A promise of forever, whispered through blood and ash.
She stumbled, and Lucien caught her before she fell.
"Eira?"
"I saw it. I think I saw… their last moment here."
Lucien helped her sit on a flat stone. "You're taking on too much at once. We should rest."
She nodded weakly.
Lucien lit a small fire with flickers of vampire flame—deep violet and cold to the touch. They sat beside it, surrounded by strange beauty and death.
For a moment, there was only silence.
Then Eira said, "Do you think Valtherion regrets it?"
Lucien's expression darkened. "He never speaks of it. But I've seen the way he looks at you. It's not just memory. It's something deeper. Like he's afraid to lose you again."
Her heart twisted. "I don't want to be a shadow of someone else."
"You're not," Lucien said firmly. "You're more than Vaelaria ever was. You're more than anyone expected. That's what makes you dangerous… and powerful."
She looked up at him. "And you? Why do you stay?"
Lucien's gaze softened, and for the first time, the walls around him cracked.
"Because I believe in you," he said. "Because when you stood before that guardian and chose a different path… I saw hope. Not for a prophecy, not for some ancient king. For you."
Eira's breath caught.
Lucien leaned closer, shadows flickering across his sharp cheekbones, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "You don't need to carry the past alone."
She reached for his hand—and this time, he didn't pull away.
Their fingers intertwined.
It wasn't a kiss, not yet. But the space between them pulsed with tension, thick and electric.
And for the first time since entering the cursed city, Eira felt something close to peace.
But peace never lasted long in the Hollow Heart.
A low, grinding sound echoed from the chamber ahead. The fire sputtered.
Eira stood. "Something's coming."
Lucien extinguished the flame with a gesture, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. "Stay behind me."
They stepped forward together, past the garden, toward the source of the sound.
Beyond a crumbling archway, a set of great doors had begun to open—slowly, as if awakened by her presence. The symbol of the tree and skull burned across them.
Behind those doors lay the true heart of the city.
Eira squeezed Lucien's hand.
"Let's finish this."