Chapter 7 Beneath the Crimson Veil

Rain has continued day and night for the past three days.

Realisations and memories flooded House Nyvarra like a ritual cleanse, making it feel like the heavens were removing the terrible history of the land. Even now, Ember could feel the energy of power running beneath the smooth, polished floors at the old estate.

Standing at the arched window, her ceremonial garment reached the floor, spreading like a pool of blood made of red silk. Behind her stood the crimson cloth from her former ceremony, reminding us of the bond she formed, established with magic, mystery, and death.

Ash still hadn't returned.

By the hour, she wanted to give up more. She recalled their final conversation many times, hoping to find meaning, warnings, or hidden things in his eyes. He appeared to treat her as the world's last tie to humanity, but then he vanished just as quickly.

Ember put her fingers against the icy wall of the telescope. She couldn't name the foes, but somewhere where the hills, the forests, and the mist met, he was fighting. The Crimson Order. The ancient wolves. The ones who had taken her family's legacy and twisted it into a curse.

A soft knock broke her trance.

It was gentle but deliberate-the kind of knock only one person in the manor dared use.

"Enter," she said.

Aeris opened the door and walked inside. She wore her robes, and her braid lay inside her collar as she moved down the alleyway.

You have not slept, Aeris observed, without questioning.

"I couldn't." Ember turned away from the window. "Has there been word?"

Aeris shook her head. "Not yet. But the runes held. He passed safely through the veil."

"That was three nights ago."

"Time moves differently beyond the crimson border," Aeris reminded her. "For Ash, it could feel like hours. Or days. You must trust him."

Trust. Ember swallowed the bitter word.

She had trusted before. Her father's advisors. The nobles of the Inner Ring. The so-called protectors of the realm. Despite this, her kingdom was destroyed, her family would soon be dead, and the facts about who she was were hidden away by false claims.

The girl leaned on the carved bench with her hands on the velvet cushion underneath. I wondered, "What if he isn't here anymore?"

"He's not," Aeris said firmly. "The bond would have broken. You would have felt it."

Ember looked up. "I'm not sure I'd feel anything anymore."

The older woman crossed the room and knelt beside her. "That's not true. I've watched you bear more than any woman should. But you haven't turned to stone. You've only grown sharper."

Ember's lips twisted. "Sharp enough to cut my own throat, perhaps."

"No." Aeris laid a hand on hers. "Sharp enough to carve a new path. One that ends this curse. One that leads us to justice."

Justice. Another bitter lie.

But Ember didn't say it aloud. She simply nodded, letting the silence fall again between them like snow.

Just as Aeris stood to leave, the door burst open.

A guard, soaked and breathless, stumbled in. "High Lady! Riders at the eastern watchtower. They bear the seal of House D'revan."

Ember stood so quickly that the bench clattered behind her. "How many?"

"Three. Armed. They requested an audience. Said they carry a message... from Ash Vael."

The breath caught in her throat.

Aeris touched her shoulder. "Go. I'll prepare the binding stones."

On purpose, the hall leading into the throne chamber had little light. Old kings and fallen queens, represented by their carvings, stared out as their faces were covered by the wandering shadows from the burning torches. Ember came down the stairs in step with her team, without speaking.

When she entered, the D'revan riders were already waiting. Their armor was scarred, marked with the talons of beasts and the runes of forbidden magic. One of them-a woman-stepped forward, removing her helm.

She had silver hair braided down her back, and eyes like black opals. "High Lady Ember. I am Commander Vess. Ash Vael sent us urgent news."

"Speak," Ember said, stepping down from the dais.

"He found the lair," Vess said. "The Alpha of the Crimson Pack has returned. He's building an army in the ruins of Varenth Hollow. And he's not alone."

Ember's breath stilled. "Who is with him?"

Vess hesitated. "Your mother."

It felt like someone had hit her in the gut with a sword.

That could never be done, she said softly. "My mother died during the Purge."

"We thought so," Vess said carefully. "But she lives. And she is bound to the Crimson Alpha by blood magic."

Ember staggered back. The room swam before her.

She remembered the night of fire. Her mother's screams. The collapsing tower. The certainty of loss. Now-after all this time-after all the tears and lies and years-

"She's one of them?" Ember asked, her voice barely audible.

Vess shook her head. "We're not sure. Ash went after her. Alone. He ordered us to bring you this." She held out a sealed parchment.

Ember took it with shaking fingers.

The seal was Ash's. The wax cracked as she opened the scroll.

Ember,

If you're reading this, it means I failed to bring her back. But you have to know– she didn't choose this. She was taken. Twisted. Changed. Don't kill her unless you have to. I'll hold the Crimson Alpha back as long as I can. But if I fall...you must finish this. The vow binds us, but it is your will that will end this curse.

Ash

The note trembled in her hand.

Aeris arrived at her side. "We leave at dawn."

"No," Ember said, folding the parchment. "We leave now."

They rode hard through the night.

The storm had eased, but mist clung to the road like breath from the underworld. Ember rode at the front, her crimson veil tied to her belt like a banner of blood and purpose.

Behind her, her guards rode silently and grimly. At her right, Aeris murmured protective charms. And on her left, Vess watched the darkness with her blade always drawn.

They reached Varenth Hollow by morning.

The ruins were nothing like Ember remembered. A city that had been lively between the mountains was now turned into a graveyard. Charred stone. Blackened trees. The air is thick with the scent of iron and rot.

They dismounted at the edge of a ruined cathedral.

Inside, the shadows writhed.

They entered slowly, blades drawn. Ember walked at the center of the formation, her eyes searching. Every step echoed like a drumbeat.

A whisper reached her ears.

"Ember..."

She turned.

At the altar stood a woman.

Tall. Regal. Her hair is the same midnight black as Ember's, streaked with silver. Her eyes shimmered with a strange red light.

"Mother," Ember whispered.

The woman stepped forward. "You've grown," she said softly.

Ember's throat closed.

"How are you alive?" she asked. "Why are you with them?"

Her mother smiled sadly. "Because I had no choice. They took me. Broke me. Rebuilt me. But I remembered you. Always."

Tears blurred Ember's vision. "Then come with me. Now. We can end this together."

Her mother stepped closer.

And suddenly, her eyes darkened.

From behind the altar, the Crimson Alpha emerged.

Twice the size of any man, with fur like bloodstained snow and eyes burning like coals.

"You're too late," he growled.

Ash was chained beside him, bleeding and unconscious.

Ember screamed.

The final battle had begun.