Ivana felt the cold grip of the emblem in her hand, its metal strange and heavy, as if holding a story long lost to time. She glanced at Edmund, his brow furrowed in concentration, his expression mirroring her mix of determination and wariness. Neither spoke as they slipped through a narrow passage at the far end of the palace wing, a place so seldom visited that even the candle sconces lay bare, casting them into near darkness.
The corridor ahead was lined with faded tapestries, their patterns barely visible through layers of dust and neglect. Ancient, unused rooms branched off on either side, their doors slightly ajar, revealing hints of broken furniture and peeling wallpaper within. Ivana's heart raced as they stepped deeper into the unknown, the silence almost echoing.
"So," she whispered, glancing sideways at Edmund, "is this how you pictured spending the night?"
He gave a faint smirk, but his eyes scanned their surroundings, ever alert. "Not quite the dance I had in mind," he murmured, "but I'm not complaining."
They moved carefully, every step sinking into layers of dust that hadn't been disturbed in decades. The thrill of the forbidden adventure electrified the air, but a growing chill warned that they might not be alone. As if in answer, a gust blew through the hall, snuffing out the nearest candle flame, plunging them into even deeper shadows.
The hall split into two twisting pathways, each one darker than the last. They paused, exchanging a look. "Right or left?" Ivana asked, her voice steadier than she felt.
Edmund glanced down the dim passageways, the weight of the decision clear in his eyes. "Right," he said finally. "But stay close."
They advanced down the right passage, their breaths loud in the silence. Suddenly, the floor creaked, and Ivana's foot sank an inch below the boards. She gasped as her weight shifted forward, almost pitching her down into a hidden trap.
Edmund's arm shot out, pulling her back just as the boards caved inward, revealing a pit concealed beneath a false floor. They peered into the darkness below, and Ivana felt her stomach churn at the sight of sharpened metal stakes glinting faintly at the bottom.
"That's… comforting," she muttered, regaining her footing with an embarrassed huff.
Edmund chuckled, a rare warmth in his voice. "Falling into traps now? Isn't that a bit reckless, even for you?"
Ivana shot him a look. "You try walking here in heels."
They moved onward, stepping cautiously around the pit. The narrow corridor eventually opened into a vast gallery filled with statues—massive stone figures cloaked in dark robes, their hollow eyes seeming to watch them. The eerie silence deepened, broken only by their soft footsteps. Ivana's gaze drifted across the statues, feeling each figure watching with an almost human intensity.
Edmund leaned in, whispering with a grin, "Planning to introduce me to your stone-faced friends?"
"Don't make me leave you alone with them," she teased, though her tone held an edge. Something about the statues felt wrong, as if they were far more than simple stone.
At the end of the gallery, they came upon a pedestal, atop which lay a small scroll. It seemed almost out of place, far too pristine to be forgotten for long. Ivana stepped closer, her fingers brushing over the faded parchment, only to feel the cold grip of a hidden latch snap under her hand.
Instantly, the ground shook, and the statues began to shift—massive stone arms unfolding, eyes now gleaming with a faint, otherworldly light. Each one turned, locking its gaze upon them, trapping them within an increasingly narrow circle.
Edmund drew his sword, eyeing the approaching figures with grim determination. "Any plans, or shall we improvise?"
Ivana's eyes darted around the room, taking in every possible escape. "Improvisation's always been our best plan," she replied, moving in sync with him.
They dodged between statues, narrowly avoiding the crushing blows of stone arms as they made their way to a small, hidden door near the end of the gallery. The door was locked, and Ivana muttered a curse under her breath, fingers fumbling as she worked the rusty latch.
"Hurry, Ivana," Edmund said, casting wary glances at the advancing statues.
"I'm working on it!" she snapped back, her voice more flustered than she intended. With a final twist, the latch gave way, and the door swung open, revealing a narrow escape passage. They squeezed through just as a statue's stone fist slammed against the doorframe, shattering it.
They stumbled forward, breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through their veins. Ivana glanced back, a smirk on her face. "You might want to admit it," she said. "You almost enjoyed that."
Edmund raised an eyebrow, mirroring her smirk. "Almost? I'd say I was right there with you, Princess."
The narrow passage brought them to a hidden staircase, spiraling downward to an unmarked door. Ivana pushed it open cautiously, revealing a small library filled with ancient tomes and strange artifacts—books older than either of them had seen, filled with forgotten lore. A faint glow from candles that hadn't been lit in centuries illuminated the space, casting long shadows.
Ivana's gaze drifted over the shelves, captivated by the sheer mystery. "Now this," she whispered, "is something worth exploring."
She and Edmund began combing through the shelves, pulling out books and muttering observations. Each page seemed to unravel another cryptic line about the Brotherhood of the Oath, but nothing gave them concrete answers. She could feel their goal slipping just beyond reach.
Suddenly, a noise echoed down the hall outside. They both froze, eyes locking. Footsteps approached, slow and deliberate.
Without a word, they moved in perfect synchrony, edging closer to the door, hoping to slip away unnoticed. But as they stepped into the hall, a shadow loomed at the end—a figure cloaked in darkness, face obscured. Ivana's heart leapt as the figure moved forward, too silent, too calculating.
The figure lunged, and they barely dodged in time, taking off down the corridor with the sound of rapid footsteps echoing close behind. They tore through winding halls, past torch-lit walls and hidden chambers, twisting and turning in a desperate attempt to lose their pursuer. Each corner revealed another passage, each door another potential trap.
Just as they rounded the final bend, they found themselves in a massive hall, with tall, arched windows casting moonlight across the marble floor. The figure was closing in, footsteps louder with each second. Ivana clenched her fists, preparing to face whoever this was.
But just as the figure came into view, a piercing bell echoed throughout the palace, signaling the start of dawn. The figure halted, retreating into the shadows without a word, as if drawn back by the night itself.
Ivana and Edmund stood in the silent hall, breathless and shaken. She turned to him, her eyes ablaze with defiance and a strange exhilaration. "I don't know who's behind this," she whispered, "but they're not winning this game."
Edmund nodded, a glint of admiration in his gaze. "Then let's make them regret challenging us."
And with that, as dawn broke through the windows, they set off once again, knowing their path had only just begun.