Chapter 10

The first light of dawn crept over the horizon as Seraphina and her small contingent of soldiers prepared to leave for Draven. The storm from the night before had finally passed, leaving the sky a muted gray, the air heavy with the scent of wet earth and the promise of a new day. Yet, despite the calm that had settled over the castle grounds, a sense of unease clung to Seraphina, as if the storm hadn't truly passed, but was merely waiting to strike again.

Kael stood nearby, overseeing the preparations with the same cold efficiency Seraphina had come to expect from him. His soldiers were already mounted, their expressions grim and focused, ready for the dangerous journey ahead. Seraphina's own men were equally tense, their eyes constantly flicking toward the Draven warriors with thinly veiled suspicion.

This was no ordinary mission. They were venturing into enemy territory, and though a fragile truce had been declared, the risk of betrayal lingered in the air like a poisonous fog.

Seraphina adjusted the straps on her armor, her mind racing with thoughts of what lay ahead. The decision to send a delegation to Draven had not been made lightly, but it was a necessary step. The ancient texts hidden within Draven's vaults might hold the answers they desperately needed—answers that could either save their world or doom it.

She just had to trust that Kael's intentions were as aligned with hers as he claimed.

As Seraphina mounted her horse, Captain Lyra approached, her expression a mixture of concern and resolve. "Your Highness, are you certain this is wise? The Draven lands are treacherous, and their people will not take kindly to our presence."

"I know, Lyra," Seraphina replied, keeping her voice low. "But we don't have a choice. The Shadowborn are growing stronger by the day, and we need every advantage we can get. This is our only option."

Lyra nodded, though the worry in her eyes didn't fade. "Just be careful, Your Highness. I'll keep an eye on the Draven soldiers, but you'll need to watch Kael. He's dangerous."

"I'm well aware," Seraphina said, casting a glance at Kael, who was speaking quietly with one of his men. "But I'll manage. We both have too much to lose if this alliance falls apart."

Lyra gave a curt nod, then moved to take her place among the Verran soldiers. Seraphina took a deep breath, steadying herself for the journey ahead. This was it—the point of no return. Once they crossed into Draven, there would be no turning back.

Kael approached, his expression as unreadable as ever. "Are you ready, Seraphina?"

"Ready as I'll ever be," she replied, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Let's get this over with."

Kael gave a sharp whistle, and his soldiers began to move, falling into formation behind him. Seraphina signaled to her own men, and together, the two groups rode out of the castle gates, their horses' hooves echoing against the stone.

The landscape of Verran gave way to the more rugged, unforgiving terrain of Draven as they crossed the border. The air grew colder, the sky darker, as if the land itself bore the weight of centuries of bloodshed and sorrow. The trees were gnarled and twisted, their branches reaching out like skeletal hands, and the ground beneath them was rocky and uneven, making the journey slow and treacherous.

Seraphina couldn't shake the feeling that they were being watched, that unseen eyes were following their every move. The Shadowborn were out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. But it wasn't just the Shadowborn that worried her. The people of Draven were known for their fierce loyalty to their rulers, and they wouldn't take kindly to Verran soldiers marching through their lands, truce or no truce.

As they rode, the tension between the Verran and Draven soldiers became more palpable. Seraphina could see the distrust in their eyes, the way their hands hovered near their weapons, ready to draw at the slightest provocation. It was a powder keg waiting to explode, and Seraphina knew that one wrong move could set it off.

Kael, for his part, seemed unbothered by the tension. He rode at the front of the group, his posture relaxed but alert, his eyes scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. He was a man used to command, to leading his people into battle, and Seraphina couldn't help but admire the ease with which he handled the situation.

But admiration didn't mean trust. She had to keep reminding herself of that.

As the hours passed and the landscape grew even more desolate, Kael called for a brief rest. The soldiers dismounted, stretching their legs and checking their weapons, but the air remained thick with tension. Seraphina took the opportunity to approach Kael, who was standing at the edge of a cliff, looking out over the vast expanse of Draven.

"This land of yours is as unforgiving as you are," Seraphina remarked, her tone somewhere between a jest and an observation.

Kael's lips twitched in what might have been the ghost of a smile. "Draven is a harsh land, but it breeds strength. Those who survive here are stronger for it."

Seraphina nodded, though her gaze remained on the landscape below. "You said your people have hidden ancient texts, knowledge that could help us. How do you know it's still there? After all these years, after all the wars?"

Kael's expression grew more serious. "The texts are kept in a hidden vault beneath the ruins of an old fortress, deep within Draven. It's a place few know about, and fewer still have access to. But I trust the information is still there."

"And what do you expect to find?" Seraphina pressed, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"Answers," Kael replied simply. "The prophecy, the Shadowborn, your bloodline—they're all connected somehow. If we can understand the connection, we might be able to find a way to stop the Shadowborn before it's too late."

Seraphina sighed, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "This prophecy... it's like a noose around our necks. Everyone talks about it, but no one really understands what it means. How can we fight something so... intangible?"

Kael's gaze softened, just for a moment. "We fight with what we know, with the tools we have. Prophecies are like weapons—dangerous in the wrong hands, but powerful if wielded correctly. We just need to figure out how to use it to our advantage."

Seraphina looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his words. For all his coldness, for all the barriers he put up, there was a part of Kael that genuinely believed in what they were doing, believed that they could make a difference. And in that moment, Seraphina felt a flicker of something she hadn't expected—hope.

But she quickly pushed it aside. Hope was dangerous, especially when it involved someone like Kael.

"We should get moving," Seraphina said, breaking the moment of connection. "The longer we stay in one place, the more vulnerable we are."

Kael nodded in agreement. "Agreed. The fortress isn't far now. We should reach it by nightfall."

They remounted and continued their journey, the landscape growing more hostile with each passing mile. The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting long shadows across the rocky terrain. The air grew colder, and the wind picked up, howling through the narrow valleys like a chorus of lost souls.

As they approached the ruins of the fortress, Seraphina couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. The silence was too deep, too unnatural. The land around them felt... empty, devoid of life. Even the animals seemed to avoid this place, as if they knew something terrible lay within.

The fortress itself was a crumbling ruin, its walls scarred by centuries of warfare and neglect. What had once been a proud bastion of Draven's power was now little more than a skeleton, a reminder of a time long past. But beneath the ruins, hidden from the eyes of the world, lay the vault that Kael spoke of.

"This is it," Kael said as they dismounted, his voice low. "The entrance to the vault is hidden within the main keep. We'll need to move quickly. The Shadowborn are drawn to places like this—places where the veil between worlds is thin."

Seraphina nodded, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her sword. She could feel the darkness pressing in around them, the malevolent energy that seemed to seep from the very stones of the fortress. They were walking into the heart of danger, and she knew that whatever they found in that vault, it would change everything.

"Stay close," she ordered her soldiers, her voice sharp. "And keep your eyes open. We're not alone here."

The group moved as one, their footsteps echoing off the cracked stone as they entered the ruins. The keep was dark and foreboding, the air thick with dust and the scent of decay. The walls were covered in ancient carvings, symbols and runes that Seraphina didn't recognize. It was as if the very stone had absorbed the history of this place, holding onto the memories of all that had transpired within these walls.

Kael led the way, his movements confident despite the oppressive atmosphere. He seemed to know exactly where he was going, as if he had been here before, though Seraphina didn't question it. She had come to expect Kael to keep his secrets close, revealing only what was necessary.

They descended deeper into the keep, the air growing colder and the darkness more complete. The torches they carried cast flickering light on the walls, creating eerie shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. Seraphina's heart pounded in her chest, but she kept her fear in check. There was no room for weakness here.

Finally, they reached a heavy stone door, half-buried in rubble. The symbols etched into the door glowed faintly, as if responding to their presence. Kael stepped forward, placing his hand on the door, and Seraphina watched as the symbols flared to life, the light spreading across the surface like wildfire.

There was a low rumble, and the door began to grind open, revealing a dark passageway beyond. A wave of cold air rushed out, carrying with it the scent of ancient magic, of secrets long buried.

"This is it," Kael said, his voice barely above a whisper. "The vault lies beyond. Whatever answers we seek, they're in there."

Seraphina took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. They had come too far to turn back now. Whatever they found in that vault, it would be the key to their survival—or their destruction.

"Let's go," she said, stepping forward into the darkness.

Kael followed, the rest of their group close behind. The passageway was narrow and winding, the walls lined with more of the strange symbols, their light casting an otherworldly glow. Seraphina could feel the weight of the magic around them, pressing down on her like a physical force.

Finally, they emerged into a vast chamber, the ceiling soaring high above them. The walls were lined with shelves, filled with ancient scrolls and tomes, their pages yellowed with age. At the center of the chamber was a pedestal, and atop it, a single book, its cover black as night, the symbols on its surface pulsing with a dark energy.

Seraphina approached the pedestal, her heart pounding in her chest. This was it—the source of the prophecy, the key to understanding the Shadowborn. She reached out, her fingers brushing the cover of the book, and felt a jolt of power course through her.

She opened the book, her eyes scanning the pages, the words written in a language she didn't recognize. But as she read, the meaning became clear, the words searing themselves into her mind.

*The blood of the Unforgiven shall be the vessel of power, the key to the darkness. The union of fire and shadow, light and dark, shall either save the world... or doom it.*

Seraphina's breath caught in her throat as the truth hit her with the force of a hammer. The prophecy wasn't just about defeating the Shadowborn—it was about her. Her bloodline, her destiny. She was the vessel, the key to the darkness.

And if she wasn't careful, she would be the one to unleash it.

She looked up at Kael, her eyes wide with shock and fear. "This... this prophecy... it's about us. It's about me."

Kael's expression was unreadable, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—recognition, perhaps, or maybe something darker.

"We need to leave," he said, his voice urgent. "Now. The Shadowborn will sense the power of this place, and they'll come for us."

Seraphina nodded, though her mind was reeling. They had the answers they sought, but those answers had only raised more questions, more fears. The prophecy was real, and it was more dangerous than she had ever imagined.

But there was no time to dwell on it now. They had to get out of Draven, had to return to Verran with this knowledge before it was too late.