S1, Chapter 9: The Execution Bell
1396 Words
The fifth bell had barely stopped ringing when the palace erupted into chaos.
Doors slammed open throughout the eastern wing, servants screamed as they fled into the courtyards, and soldiers poured from every corridor with weapons drawn. The execution bell continued to echo through the stone halls, each strike heavier than the last.
Kael released my wrist only long enough to draw his sword.
“Stay behind me.”
“I heard someone.”
“I know.”
“It was a woman.”
“I know.”
His eyes remained fixed on the palace tower.
The screaming came again.
“Elena!”
I froze.
That voice.
It was my mother's.
Not a memory.
Not an echo.
Someone inside the palace had spoken her name.
Kael grabbed my hand.
“Move.”
We ran.
The guards followed us through the northern entrance while Cassian shouted orders behind us. The palace corridors were packed with people, but no one dared stand in Kael's way. His expression alone was enough to make servants press themselves against the walls.
“What does the bell mean?” I asked.
“Someone has activated the old execution chamber.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“You're the king.”
“I don't know everything.”
It was the first time he had admitted it without anger.
We reached the central staircase.
A royal guard was waiting there.
“Your Majesty, the council chamber is sealed.”
“Who sealed it?”
“We don't know.”
“Where is Varian?”
The guard hesitated.
“Missing.”
Kael's expression changed.
“Take Elena to the inner vault.”
“No.”
His eyes snapped toward me.
“Absolutely not.”
“If someone is calling my mother's name, I'm going with you.”
“You don't know what you're walking into.”
“Neither do you.”
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he turned to Cassian.
“Stay with her.”
Cassian looked at me, then at Kael.
“You're trusting her?”
“No.”
Kael's gaze settled on me.
“I'm trusting myself to keep her alive.”
Then he disappeared up the stairs.
I watched him go.
Cassian sighed.
“You two are exhausting.”
“I've known him for three days.”
“Exactly.”
We followed the upper corridor toward the western tower.
The execution chamber had been abandoned for decades.
At least, according to the history books.
The door was hidden behind a massive tapestry depicting the first Ashthorne king kneeling before a silver moon. I had passed it twice since arriving at the palace and never noticed the narrow iron handle behind the fabric.
Cassian pulled the tapestry aside.
The door was open.
Blood covered the floor.
Not enough to form a pool.
Enough to leave a trail.
It disappeared beneath the doorway.
Cassian drew his weapon.
“Stay close.”
We entered.
The chamber beyond was circular and almost completely empty. A single stone platform stood at its center, surrounded by iron chains hanging from the ceiling.
Someone had been tied there.
The chains were still moving.
But the prisoner was gone.
I stepped closer.
A woman's voice came from the darkness.
“You shouldn't have come.”
I turned.
An elderly servant stood against the far wall.
Her gray hair was loose, her uniform stained with blood.
Cassian immediately raised his sword.
“Who are you?”
She looked at me.
“Your mother used to sing to you.”
My heart stopped.
“How do you know that?”
The woman's eyes filled with tears.
“Because I was there.”
Cassian lowered his weapon slightly.
“Explain.”
“She brought you here once.”
“When?”
“Before the execution.”
I couldn't breathe.
“I was sixteen.”
“You were younger.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“You remember the funeral. You remember the house burning. You remember your mother dying in her bed.”
Her voice broke.
“None of those memories are yours.”
I stared at her.
“What are you saying?”
“She altered them.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
The woman took a trembling step toward me.
“She knew they would come for you.”
“Who?”
“The king.”
Cassian stiffened.
“My father?”
“No.”
The woman's eyes shifted toward the ceiling.
“The king before him.”
I felt cold.
“My mother was afraid of the royal family.”
“She was afraid of what they knew.”
“What did they know?”
The woman looked directly at my palm.
“The mark.”
The silver crescent beneath my skin began glowing.
Cassian stepped between us.
“What does the mark mean?”
The servant whispered.
“It means the old blood has awakened.”
A loud crash came from the corridor.
Cassian turned.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“Please.”
It was the first time I had heard him ask instead of command.
I nodded.
He disappeared through the doorway.
The woman waited until his footsteps faded.
Then she came closer.
“Your mother left something for you.”
“What?”
“A room.”
I frowned.
“What room?”
“The room beneath the execution chamber.”
“There is no room beneath this.”
“There is.”
She placed her bloodied hand against the stone wall.
A hidden mechanism clicked.
The floor opened.
A staircase descended into darkness.
I stared down.
“How do you know about this?”
She smiled sadly.
“Because I helped build it.”
We descended.
The air became colder with every step.
At the bottom stood a small chamber illuminated by silver crystals.
There was a bed.
A wooden table.
A child's blanket.
And dozens of paintings.
Every painting showed the same woman.
My mother.
She looked younger than I remembered.
Beautiful.
Terrified.
Alive.
I walked toward the nearest painting.
On the table beside it sat a small wooden box.
The servant stopped behind me.
“She told me to give you this only if the mark appeared.”
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
I unfolded it.
The handwriting was unmistakable.
My little moon.
I couldn't see the next line through my tears.
I wiped my eyes and continued.
If you are reading this, then the Ashthorne blood has finally awakened what I spent my life trying to bury.
My breath caught.
You will be told that I abandoned you. You will be told that I was weak. You will be told that your father died protecting you.
I looked up.
“My father?”
The servant said nothing.
I read on.
Believe none of them.
My hands shook harder.
Your father is alive.
The room seemed to disappear around me.
I read the sentence again.
Then again.
My father was alive.
The man I had spent my entire life believing was dead had never been dead.
A sound escaped my throat.
“No.”
The servant touched my shoulder.
“There is more.”
I forced myself to continue.
His name is not Voss.
The candlelight flickered.
He is one of them.
The silver mark on my palm burned.
And when he finds you, he will ask you to remember.
I stared at the final line.
Do not remember until you know whether the wolf beside you is your protector or your executioner.
The letter slipped from my fingers.
Kael.
The word formed silently in my mind.
The servant looked toward the staircase.
“Someone is coming.”
Footsteps echoed above us.
Slow.
Heavy.
Familiar.
The servant's face drained of color.
“Who?”
She whispered the answer.
“The king.”
I backed away from the staircase.
Kael appeared at the bottom.
His sword was still in his hand.
Blood covered his coat.
His eyes found mine.
Then they dropped to the letter on the floor.
He stopped.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I asked the question that had just destroyed everything I thought I knew.
“Who is my father?”
Kael's face went completely still.
The servant began crying.
And Kael whispered the name.
“Lucian."
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD