Chapter 42 – Echoes of a Forgotten King
The blood moon faded from the night sky like a dying ember, casting the entire kingdom into a momentary hush. The castle's highest spires, still trembling from the unleashed power beneath, finally stilled. But the silence was deceiving. Power like that didn't simply vanish—it went dormant, lurking like an ember under ash.
Liam stood at the edge of the Crypt of Kings with Ella leaning on him. Her breath was shallow, her strength depleted after the ritual that had sealed Valen away again. His presence had not been erased, only suppressed—and they both knew he was watching.
"Come on," Liam whispered. "Let's get you out of here."
The guards moved forward without a word. Velis took Ella's other arm, while Maelin held a vial of shimmering blue liquid between her gloved hands. She offered it to Liam.
"For the Queen. It will help stabilize the blood echoes."
Liam looked at her. "What happens if she doesn't drink it?"
"She may relive every memory her father embedded into her bloodline. Over and over again."
Ella stirred weakly. "Already started," she murmured.
Liam took the vial and brought it to her lips. She drank, face contorting slightly at the taste, then exhaled deeply. Her posture straightened. Some of the color returned to her skin.
"Let's go," she said, voice stronger now.
As they made their ascent through the crypt, Liam couldn't shake the feeling that something had changed—not just in Ella, but in himself. The moment the blood contract had rewritten itself, he'd felt something take root. His senses were sharper. His heartbeat more controlled. Even the air seemed clearer, as if his body had adjusted to the vampire realm in ways he didn't yet understand.
When they emerged from the crypt, the throne room was empty. The nobles had fled. The sigils that had once burned above the blood thrones were gone.
Ella sat down heavily on her throne. Liam joined her, though he looked down at his own seat with hesitation.
"I still don't feel like a king," he said.
Ella's eyes flicked to him. "That's what makes you worthy of it."
Maelin stepped forward, bowing. "Your Majesty, may I speak freely?"
Ella nodded.
"There will be consequences. What you've done—what you both did—rewrote the foundation of vampire law. The old bloodlines will resist. Some will see it as liberation. Others, heresy."
Velis chimed in. "The Crimson Council is already in session. They demand answers."
Liam raised an eyebrow. "What's the Crimson Council?"
Ella leaned back in her throne. "The highest order of vampire lords. They see themselves as keepers of the realm. They've been waiting for an excuse to challenge me."
"And now we've given them one," Liam said.
"More than one," Maelin added. "There's talk of resurrection cults. Factions who believe Valen should return to reclaim his throne."
Velis's expression darkened. "One of our informants says they've already moved into the Drowned Catacombs. That's a day's ride from here."
Ella stood, fully recovered now. "Then we go. Tonight."
Liam looked at her. "You sure you're ready?"
"I can't afford not to be."
---
That night, under a canopy of stars still tinged with red from the blood moon's retreat, Liam and Ella rode out with a small retinue. They traveled swiftly, veiled in shadow, through dead woods and silent villages. The people had gone into hiding. The vampires could feel the shift in power, like animals before a storm.
The Drowned Catacombs weren't on any map. They lay beneath the ruins of an old cathedral long swallowed by the swamp. As they approached, Liam felt his skin prickle. The air was thick with enchantment. Curses clung to every branch.
Ella motioned for silence. "They've already begun. The rite is in progress."
Maelin produced a warding charm and whispered a prayer. Velis disappeared into the mist, scouting ahead.
The cathedral's remains loomed above them—twisted spires, half-submerged, with vines like veins crawling across broken stone. They descended through a cracked stairwell choked with rot and found themselves in a tunnel lit by candlelight.
Chanting echoed off the walls.
Liam led the way, Ella beside him. Every step brought the temperature down until their breath turned to fog. Finally, they reached the chamber.
Dozens of hooded figures surrounded a blood pool, in the center of which floated a coffin. It was identical to the one they'd sealed.
Ella didn't hesitate. She stepped into the light.
"So this is how far you've fallen," she called.
The chanting stopped.
A man turned. His face was gaunt, his eyes glowing faint red. "We only rise, my Queen. And soon, our true king will return."
"You defy the blood contract," Liam said.
The man's gaze locked with his. "You are a child playing at immortality. You think a signature protects you?"
Behind him, the coffin began to tremble.
"Stop the rite," Ella ordered.
The cultists drew blades. Not silver, but obsidian carved with runes.
It was Velis who struck first. His daggers gleamed in the candlelight as he carved a path through the cultists. Liam followed, his newfound strength surprising even him. When one cultist lunged, Liam caught the blade midair and crushed it in his hand.
Ella reached the blood pool, raised her hand, and uttered a phrase that turned the liquid to ice. The coffin sank, trapped.
The chamber groaned.
Above, the cathedral's remains collapsed, burying the entrance.
Liam turned. Only three cultists remained alive. They dropped their weapons, trembling.
"Please," one whispered. "He speaks to us. He promises freedom."
Ella looked down at him. "He promises chains. I offer choice."
They left the catacombs in silence, leaving behind a buried warning.
---
Back at the castle, Liam stood on a balcony, watching the sunrise for the first time since becoming part of this world. The sun didn't burn him—not yet—but he could feel its sting.
Ella joined him.
"We won today," he said.
"But tomorrow will come," she replied. "And with it, more echoes of the old world."
Liam reached for her hand.
"Then we face it together."
She nodded, and the first light of day broke across the realm.
---
End of Chapter 42