The Vault Beneath theThorns
1438 Words
Chapter 4: The Vault Beneath the Thorns
The path to the Vault was no longer just a rumor whispered in rebel camps — it was real. And Kairo had the key.
With Aveline close behind, they approached the northern cliffs of Dusk Hollow. Ancient vines tangled over cracked stone and rusted iron gates. The terrain was unwelcoming — nature reclaiming whatever secrets lay buried beneath. Moss clung to the remnants of an old fortress, its walls broken, its windows staring like hollow eyes.
"This was the Thorn Keep," Aveline whispered. "Abandoned after the Crimson Rebellion."
Kairo ran a hand along the weather-worn gate. He could feel something beneath the surface — an old energy pulsing faintly, almost like a heartbeat.
"Why here?" he asked.
"Because this was her stronghold," Aveline replied, her eyes distant. "Before they took it from her. Before they branded her a traitor."
"Althea."
Aveline nodded. “She hid the first part of the Vault here. Beneath the thorns. Beneath their lies.”
Kairo gripped the pendant and stepped forward. The moment he did, the ground beneath them shifted with a low groan. Vines retracted slowly, almost respectfully, revealing a hidden stairwell leading into darkness.
He glanced at Aveline. “You coming?”
“You’re going to need me,” she said simply, and they both descended.
The air grew colder as they went deeper. Torches flickered to life along the walls, as if the Vault itself recognized its heir had returned.
The stairs ended in a massive underground chamber carved from moonstone. Symbols shimmered across the floor, glowing faintly. At the center stood a circular platform and an altar. Something sat on it — wrapped in dark velvet.
Kairo approached carefully.
He peeled the cloth back.
A scroll.
Bound in silver wire. Sealed with a crescent moon and dripping wax.
He felt his blood hum.
Before he could reach for it, Aveline grabbed his arm.
“Wait.”
“What?”
She pointed to the shadows.
A figure stepped out.
Tall. Armored in obsidian plates etched with crimson runes. His face hidden beneath a helm shaped like a wolf’s skull.
“Who—?”
“You shouldn't have come here, Kairo,” the figure said. His voice was calm. Too calm. “You woke something the Council buried for a reason.”
Kairo stepped in front of the altar. “Who are you?”
The man removed his helm.
And Kairo staggered.
The face was a mirror of his own.
Older. Sharper. Angrier.
“I am Kaelen. Your brother.”
Silence dropped like a blade.
“What... what are you talking about?” Kairo whispered.
Kaelen’s eyes were shadow-filled, but not lifeless. “We share the same blood, Kairo. Same mother. Different fathers. I was born first — and I was the Council’s original weapon.”
“You’re lying.”
Kaelen took a step forward. “Your mother tried to save me. Just like she tried to save you. But in the end, she failed both of us.”
Kairo’s breath came short. “Why are you here?”
“To stop you from making her mistake again.”
Aveline moved to Kairo’s side. “He’s trying to scare you. That scroll is yours.”
Kaelen's eyes darkened. “Take it, and you’ll awaken the war she died trying to prevent. The Vault isn’t just knowledge — it’s power. The kind that can burn the entire realm.”
Kairo stared at the scroll.
The weight of choice pressed down on him.
Legacy… or chaos?
Truth… or survival?
He took a slow breath.
And reached for the scroll.
The silence that hung in the air between Kairo and Kaelen was suffocating. The torchlight flickered against the ancient stone, casting grotesque shadows on the carved wolves along the Vault walls. Kairo couldn’t tear his gaze away from the boy who looked so much like him. The same dark hair, the same glint of steel in his eyes. But Kaelen’s stare wasn’t filled with pain or confusion like Kairo’s—it brimmed with quiet fury.
“You… You’re real,” Kaelen finally said, his voice low and laced with disbelief. “I thought you were just a myth.”
Kairo frowned. “You knew about me?”
Kaelen’s lips twisted. “Of course I did. Mother told me stories… but only in whispers. I thought she was mad.” His voice cracked, betraying the weight of years spent alone, believing himself a forgotten child of an unspoken union.
The Vault groaned as if it too bore the weight of their bloodline’s secrets. Kairo stepped closer, cautious. “Why are you down here?”
“I was born down here,” Kaelen replied bitterly. “Trained. Hidden. Fed lies and given scrolls to read until I memorized our family’s sins. I am the bloodline's insurance. The forgotten wolf meant to rise if Mooncrest ever fell.”
A chill ran down Kairo’s spine.
Kaelen continued, “But now you’re here. The firstborn. The heir. The one who was supposed to be dead.”
Kairo’s eyes darted to the cracked stone altar in the center of the room, upon which lay a worn leather-bound book. Etched into the cover was the sigil of their house — a crescent moon pierced by a dagger.
Kairo reached for it, but Kaelen’s voice hardened.
“Don’t touch that.”
“Why?”
“Because it holds the curse of our line. The reason your mother was exiled. The truth behind the fall of the Elders.”
Kairo’s hand hovered over the book, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. “Then tell me. What did they do?”
Kaelen turned away, as if struggling with the weight of what he was about to say. “Our bloodline… was created from forbidden unions. The first Alpha of Mooncrest—our ancestor—didn't just claim a Luna. He stole magic from the witches. He performed a bloodbinding ritual that created a line of Alphas immune to silver and immune to Luna bonds.”
Kairo froze. “Immune to… bonds?”
Kaelen nodded. “That’s why you didn’t feel anything when she rejected you.”
Kairo’s stomach twisted. The pain of Aveline’s rejection had haunted him for years, but he had always assumed it was because she didn’t love him — not because something in him was broken by birthright.
Kaelen’s voice dropped lower. “That ritual came with a price. Every firstborn male is cursed with visions. Ghosts of their ancestors appear to them. And worse… some can’t tell what’s real anymore.”
Kairo remembered the voice he heard when he touched the vines. The whisper of his mother.
“It wasn’t a dream,” he muttered. “She spoke to me.”
Kaelen turned sharply. “You’ve heard her?”
“Yes.”
Kaelen’s face paled. “Then she’s chosen you.”
The air in the Vault shifted, as if a cold wind passed through it, though the chamber had no openings. The flames flickered violently.
“She only appears when it’s time,” Kaelen whispered. “When the bloodline is about to either end… or rise stronger than ever.”
Kairo clenched his fists. “What does she want from me?”
“She wants you to break the curse. To lead a new generation of wolves not poisoned by Mooncrest’s past. But to do that…” Kaelen hesitated. “You’ll need me.”
Kairo studied with his brother. This secret twin, raised in shadows. Was he friend or foe?
“And what do you want?”
Kaelen’s eyes locked onto his. “To be free. To see the sky. To fight beside my brother… or die trying.”
Suddenly, the Vault rumbled. Stones cracked. Dust fell from the ceiling. A loud howling sound echoed from above.
“Someone’s coming,” Kaelen said. “Mooncrest guards. Or worse — the Council.”
Kairo grabbed the book, despite Kaelen’s warning. As he did, the sigil on the cover glowed blood red. A force knocked him back, but he held on, gritting his teeth through the burning pain in his palms.
The whisper returned. “The bloodline must rise.”
Kaelen rushed to his side. “You’ve awakened the Vault’s core.”
The walls began to shift, revealing a hidden corridor behind the altar.
Kairo looked at him. “We go together. Now.”
Kaelen nodded, and together, the brothers disappeared into the
shadows of the corridor, leaving behind the Vault of secrets, and stepping into a future neither fully understood.
But one thing was clear — the war for the truth had begun.
- Writer
