Chapter 2: The Crimson Tide
The air in the royal chambers crackled with unspoken tensions. Lysander, her golden braid catching the flickering candlelight, leaned closer to her siblings. "Valerius. The first crown. Our first step to breaking the Veil. He's the key, the only one who knows the location of the first crown within the very heart of the Veil, and our father won't help us."
Zephyrus, ever the pragmatist, nodded slowly. "And our father... well, he's still shrouded in his own darkness. We have to act on our own, here. I'm skeptical that we will prevail."
Illumi, her usually serene face shadowed with grim determination, interjected, "I will seek out the necessary information on Lord Valerius, but our father's words echo in my mind. 'The abominations are the least of your worries.' This is a struggle for survival beyond anything we have ever known."
Kairos, perched on the edge of a richly embroidered chair, idly twirled a lock of his white hair. His eyes, a startling shade of blue, held a detached calm. "Valerius," he murmured, the name barely a breath on the air. "Let's make this interesting. Hope the bastard is worth the trouble."
"Interesting, is it?" Lysander teased, her voice laced with a playful edge. "Or are you simply too nonchalant for your own good? Consider the consequences, brother. This is about far more than a simple game of strategy."
Zephyrus sighed, a low rumble in the stuffy chamber. "Lysander's right, Kairos. This is not a game. Valerius is powerful, ruthlessly skilled, and has allies who can put up a fight. We need to be careful. I believe that we can accomplish this but discretion and precision are crucial."
Illumi, after a moment of searching through the veil of memories in her mind, finally spoke. "The veil of memories and the knowledge we obtained from the citadel show that Lord Valerius is connected to the crimson hands. He holds the key to the first crown within the veil, but even within the veil, the crown is guarded by a vast network of the valor clan. The first crown is protected by two ancient wards. Only the descendants of Valerius can bypass the wards to collect the crown."
"A formidable foe, then," Kairos commented, not even raising his eyes from his contemplation. "But a challenge we must overcome."
"Precisely," Lysander said, her voice firm, though a flash of unease crossed her eyes. "This is where we will need all the skills that we all possess, the memories we hold in our souls. But we can't just charge at Valerius. We need a plan. Something precise and deadly."
Zephyrus laid out the blueprint. "Valerius will be in the courtyard tomorrow morning. He's in charge of a prestigious event at the heart of the palace. This will be our opportunity. We'll take advantage of the distraction while he's engrossed in the festivities. It's a perfect opportunity."
"The courtyard, you say?" Kairos smirked, his eyes reflecting the cold glint of steel. "A theatrical performance, then. We will make a grand entrance, and Valerius, poor Valerius, will be the star of our show." He paused, a glint of something akin to amusement in his eyes. "There will be no lingering, no hesitation. Just… swift and decisive action."
Their eyes flickered amongst each other as they agreed. A silent pact was made, an understanding forged in the crucible of danger and desperation.
The next morning dawned clear and crisp, the sun casting long shadows across the palace courtyard. A festive air hung in the air, punctuated by the cheerful chatter of courtiers and the distant strains of music. The planned assassination had begun, orchestrated with ruthless efficiency. Lysander, with her swift movements and subtle maneuvering, expertly distracted the guards. Illumi, her knowledge of Valerius's routines proving invaluable, navigated the labyrinthine corridors, creating a diversion. Zephyrus, with his unwavering resolve, ensured that the perimeter remained secure and that no unwanted attention was drawn to the operation.
Kairos, concealed amongst the crowd, his movements silent and precise, infiltrated the midst of the event, his steps unnoticeable amidst the throng. His cold eyes scanned the area, searching for his target – Lord Valerius, the object of their mission. The scent of roses and cinnamon filled the air, while the soft clinking of glasses and the chatter of guests masked the tension in the room.
Kairos spotted Valerius, a magnificent figure surrounded by a protective ring of courtiers, his eyes scanning the crowd with an arrogant air. He was dressed in luxurious crimson robes, a striking contrast to the festive colours of the celebration. Valerius seemed blissfully unaware of the storm brewing.
With an almost imperceptible movement, Kairos moved, his figure a blur against the backdrop of the scene. He was a phantom.
He found Valerius alone, his guard down as he leaned against a column to admire a dancer. The opportunity was ripe. It was the perfect moment, the only moment.
In a swift, silent motion, Kairos unleashed a flurry of blows. His movements were fluid, precise, and deadly. The air crackled with the metallic clash of steel on steel. Valerius, caught off guard and caught by surprise, was no match for Kairos's deadly strikes. A fierce, silent battle erupted in the heart of the courtyard.
Outside, Lysander was throwing a grand display, drawing attention from the other clan members and the guards, a brilliant distraction, while Illumi weaved her way through the throng, creating a path for Zephyrus to enter the courtyard. Zephyrus, ever the strategist, had anticipated any possible countermoves, ensuring that their movements were seamless and their actions effective.
The clashing of blades echoed through the courtyard. Kairos, his eyes narrowed in concentration, dodged and parried, his body moving like a coiled spring. Valerius, accustomed to victory, found himself reeling from the unexpected attack. He roared with frustrated anger, his rage burning a path through his movements as he swung his sword at Kairos.
"Surrender yourself, little Kairos," Valerius roared in an attempt to overwhelm Kairos's confidence, "You will never prevail against the valor clan!"
Kairos, in response, smirked. "We'll see about that."
The fight raged on, a breathtaking ballet of steel and skill. Lysander, seeing her opportunity, launched a feigned attack, distracting Valerius. Zephyrus, his movements swift and relentless, disarmed several guards in the immediate vicinity, creating a pathway for Illumi to rush at Valerius, taking him down with a swift maneuver.
Amidst the din of clashing steel, a sharp cry pierced the air. Valerius, enraged, unleashed a final, desperate strike, but Kairos moved with lightning speed, parrying the blow and driving his blade deep into Valerius's chest.
Valerius fell, his crimson robes staining the courtyard floor. The air, thick with anticipation, fell silent. The silence was punctuated by the gasps of the onlookers, the clan members, the guards. The courtiers parted as Kairos stood over Valerius's lifeless body, his face a mask of grim determination.
The first crown, protected by two wards, shone with a dark, malevolent light. It was now exposed. Kairos grabbed the crown, feeling a chilling sensation run down his spine. It was heavy, radiating an unnatural darkness.
"Next," Kairos said, his voice low, his gaze cold. "Let's find the other crowns. And together, we'll find a way to break this curse." The siblings, standing tall, were prepared for the next step on their treacherous journey. The journey towards freedom, towards the unknown, towards the fate of two worlds.
This was their little plan.