Chapter 6: The Mists of Legacy
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The mist still hung low as Xebec dismounted his horse, the damp soil of the northern border absorbing the heavy thud of his boots. His guards stood silent in formation behind him, waiting for orders. But Xebec's attention was fixed on the old castle in the distance—the de Malefic family's stronghold. Its walls were overgrown with black vines, the kind that shouldn't be growing in this season.
The air here was heavier, as if every breath carried shards of ancient memories trying to ensnare the soul. This wasn't just noble land—it was legacy land, soaked in blood.
Xebec raised his left hand—his only remaining hand—and signaled for the guards to stay back. He wanted to walk alone toward the side gate, where a hooded servant waited.
"Lady Astrid awaits you in the inner garden, Your Highness," the servant said, without giving a name.
"No formal welcome?" Xebec muttered.
"Lady Astrid says this is not a political meeting," the servant replied swiftly. "She calls it... a personal assessment."
Xebec's boots echoed down a stone corridor lined with faded red carpet. The castle walls bore no royal crests, only faint symbols of old magic—insignias recognizable only to those who had read forbidden texts. He remembered that symbol... the Seal of Baal, the same one hidden on his brother Bastian's body.
The corridor ended in an open courtyard garden. There stood a woman long relegated to rumors and advisor reports.
Astrid de Malefic.
She stood before an ancient statue of a forgotten goddess, her silver hair falling straight and shimmering in the pale sunlight. A dark blue dress wrapped her form—not luxurious, but regal and strong. Her eyes were sharp, yet calm. No fear, no facade. Only awareness of who she was.
"Your Highness," she said. "I assumed my father would force me to meet you in the audience chamber."
Xebec replied lightly, "I chose to come alone. I'm not interested in the masks of nobility."
Astrid smirked faintly. "Unfortunately, my whole life is a mask."
Silence fell between them. Only the wind in the leaves bore witness.
"I know who you are," Astrid said again. "Xebec von Phillipe. The wounded prince. But also the prince who still stands."
"And I know you. Astrid de Malefic. Daughter of a line once bound by a contract with something... older than our kingdom."
Astrid's gaze hardened. "So you've learned."
"I saw the same symbol in the castle's underground chamber. And on my brother's body. Your family... is bound to Baal, aren't they?"
Astrid stepped forward. "My father serves something older than human truth. But I am not my father. I've rejected that legacy. I fight against it."
Xebec frowned. "Can you be trusted?"
"I was born from a curse, Xebec. But that was not my choice. Fighting the curse... that is."
She pulled back her sleeve. Etched into her skin was a small magical circle—a protective seal.
"I carved this seal myself. To keep my blood from being controlled."
Xebec nodded slowly. "Then perhaps we share the same goal. To fight what's been passed down to us."
Footsteps echoed softly from another corridor. A woman emerged wearing a golden-brown cloak. Bright green eyes and rust-red hair tied high.
"Aelra," said Astrid. "My arcane guardian."
The woman eyed Xebec, not with respect, but with deep scrutiny. "So this is the heir with only one hand."
Xebec didn't flinch. "I don't need two hands to see who's friend and who's traitor."
Aelra gave a faint smile. "And I don't need a prophecy to know the world is slipping toward ruin."
Astrid cut in. "We don't have much time. My father and Grand Duke Theral are gathering in the great hall. They know you've arrived."
Xebec turned to her. "And they don't know you'll side with me?"
Astrid looked up at the grey sky. "Not yet. But I can't stand still anymore."
Just then, the hooded servant returned in haste.
"Lady Astrid, Duke Malefic and the Grand Duke summon you."
Astrid sighed and looked deep into Xebec's eyes. "The wolves' performance is about to begin."
Xebec stared ahead. "And we both know… who must still wear a mask, and who must break it."
But before they moved toward the hall, Aelra stopped Xebec.
"There's something you must know, Prince," she said softly. "The seal on Bastian's body... it's not just an inheritance. It has grown. Evolved."
Xebec froze. "What do you mean?"
Aelra's voice dropped to a near whisper, like a spell. "The seal... has unlocked a deeper layer. An inner circle called the Chain of Consciousness. It means... Baal is beginning to awaken."
Silence.
Long and heavy.
Xebec looked toward the castle hall, his breath thick.
"Then," he said quietly, "we don't have much time."
Their footsteps echoed through the stone corridors. The scent of burning black candles mingled with ancient incense. The castle walls rose like monuments of past arrogance, each carving murmuring forbidden magic.
Xebec walked ahead, flanked by Astrid and Aelra, like a one-handed prince marching into a den of serpents unafraid.
The main hall of Castle de Malefic opened slowly. Its high ceilings were supported by obsidian pillars carved with winged demon symbols. At the far end sat two men: Duke Malefic in a deep crimson robe embroidered with twin-headed dragons in silver thread, and beside him, Grand Duke Theral of the South, massive, with eyes that stripped rather than saw.
"Ah... our guest finally arrives," Duke Malefic's voice was low, cold, echoing. He looked at Xebec with a faint smile, like a cat watching a mouse walk into its trap.
Xebec bowed slightly. "I come not as a prince, but as an envoy of peace."
The Grand Duke sneered. "Peace? From a prince who can't even hold a sword with both hands?"
Astrid stepped forward. "Prince Xebec still holds his honor—unlike some who toy with demons and foul pacts."
The hall stiffened. Duke Malefic shot Astrid a sharp glare. "You speak too freely, my daughter."
Aelra stepped forward, voice calm yet cutting. "Perhaps because she's the only one in this room still breathing without sin."
Xebec broke the tension. "I know what happened behind the western war. I know who supplied the rebels with dark magic. And I know who tried to manipulate my brother."
Duke Malefic didn't deny it. He rose slowly, clapping.
"Good… you're smarter than we thought. But are you strong enough for what's coming?"
Grand Duke Theral also stood. "The world will change, Xebec. New blood must flow so old blood can rule eternally."
Xebec stepped closer, voice low and steady. "If that's your intent, then know this: I won't let the kingdom fall into your hands. If I must, I'll be the last barrier."
Then, the candles dimmed.
Dark winds spiraled in the room.
From behind the stone curtain at the throne's rear came a groan—not human, but something older, deeper... hungrier.
Aelra pulled a charm from her neck. "We have to leave. Now."
But Astrid still stared at her father, silver eyes glistening. "You've really sold all your blood, haven't you, Father?"
Duke Malefic looked back at her, expressionless. "Blood is a small price for eternity."
As shadows crept from the walls, Xebec pulled Astrid and Aelra back. "We will return. But next time... with light."
The three of them rushed from the hall, followed by laughter that wasn't human.
They raced down narrow corridors lit only by flickering torches. The castle walls seemed to breathe in the shadows. Behind them, laughter and whispers followed, like a mist that couldn't be shaken.
Astrid led them to a side exit toward the rear garden, where their horses had been secretly prepared by a loyal servant who still honored the old oaths.
"To the north. We can't return to the capital through the main roads," Astrid said, breath heavy but firm.
"Then we take the mountain route. Through the Auren pass," said Xebec, glancing at Aelra.
Aelra nodded quickly. "We'll vanish from Theral's sight there."
They mounted their horses and fled into the night, just as the dark mist sealed the gate behind them. Xebec glanced back once more. There, among the wall's shadows, he saw a tall figure crowned in shadow—Baal, or the darkness buried long ago.
As they entered the frozen northern woods, something pulsed beneath Xebec's skin—not fear, but an ancient instinct. He looked at Astrid clutching her magic talisman tight. Her face was pale, but her eyes burned.
"He awoke something tonight," Astrid whispered. "The ritual isn't finished… but it was enough to open a rift between our world and theirs."
"We need to find that power's source," Xebec said. "And cut it off... before Bastian sinks any deeper."
As dawn rose in the distance, the mist slowly faded. But light did not greet them—only a cold deeper than wind.
And far away... the earth rumbled as if the world held its breath.
The war had not begun. But its demon was already awake.
The sky glowed orange as three riders crossed a narrow path behind the pine forest. The thinning mist revealed their silhouettes: Xebec, Astrid, and Aelra—silent, alert, united in purpose.
Their horses trotted over the frozen spring ground, not yet thawed. Behind the trees, the world seemed to watch with unseen eyes.
"There's a voice in the wind," Aelra warned quietly. "Footsteps without form. Like... the whispered prayers of sinners."
Astrid turned. "You hear it too?"
Xebec frowned. The voice, faint but insistent, seemed to call from his blood. A name he had never spoken rang clear in the silence:
Baal.
He took a deep breath—but pain suddenly flared through his left shoulder. Xebec gasped and fell from his horse, trembling, his breath catching.
"Xebec!" Astrid jumped down, rushing to him.
Aelra stood guard, sword drawn, eyes scanning.
Astrid opened Xebec's inner coat—and there, beneath the collarbone, a purplish-black seal had appeared. Baal's mark. But this was different from Bastian's. This seal... was not solid. Not complete. Still growing.
"This isn't a full seal," Astrid whispered. "It's... a seed. Like a root searching for a body to grow into."
Xebec gritted his teeth, the pain sharp. "Is this... because I touched the symbol in the castle's depths?"
"Possibly," Astrid said in horror. "That symbol is a pathway. Whoever opens it... receives a 'gift' from Baal."
"A cursed gift," Aelra muttered coldly.
Astrid quickly pulled a small dagger from her ankle and scratched the skewer. She drew a magical protective circle on Xebec's chest with her own blood, then cast an ancient protection spell. A pale blue light appeared, holding the seal back from growing any further. "I can't break it. But I can hold it back for now," Astrid said gravely. "But this will speed things up. Baal knows we're moving." Xebec sat up slowly, though his face was still pale. "We must go north," he said quietly. "There's an old temple at the foot of Mount Artheon. Father mentioned it in secret documents. Where the old guardians of magic… sealed the books of Baal." Astrid nursed. "Do you want to break the seal?" "No," Xebec shook his head. "I want to find a way to break this legacy. For me. For Bastian. For… all who have been ensnared by Baal." Aelra nodded. "Then we can't stop." The three of them mounted their horses again. The north wind was cold, carrying the scent of earth, blood… and something far older than the world itself. Behind them, the sky above de Malefic's castle darkened for a moment, as if the world realized that the sleeping curse... had awakened.
(to be continued)