EPISODE 5: silver 🥈
1758 Words
The forest swallowed them before dawn.
Behind them, the palace bells continued to ring.
One.
Two.
Three.
Each note travelled through the darkness like a warning.
Azrael walked ahead, one hand pressed against his side. Blood stained his shirt where the guards had wounded him, but he refused to stop.
Lucia followed close behind.
Neither spoke.
There were too many questions between them.
Too many things she had seen.
Her mother's death.
Vespera's confession.
The curse.
The prince.
The beast.
And the terrifying moment when Azrael's eyes had turned black and he had looked at Lucia as though she were a stranger.
She shivered.
Azrael noticed.
“Are you cold?”
“A little.”
He stopped.
Without a word, he removed his cloak.
Lucia stared at him.
“You're bleeding.”
“I'll survive.”
“And you're cold too.”
“I've survived worse.”
He held the cloak toward her.
“Take it.”
Lucia hesitated before accepting it.
“Thank you.”
Azrael nodded and continued walking.
For several minutes, there was only the sound of their footsteps beneath the trees.
Then Lucia spoke.
“Why did you come for me?”
Azrael stopped.
She almost walked into him.
He remained facing the darkness.
“I told you before.”
“You protected me.”
“That wasn't an answer.”
He was silent.
Lucia stepped around him.
“Why me, Azrael?”
His golden eyes met hers.
For a moment, the terrible prince disappeared.
There was only a tired man standing beneath the trees.
“I don't know.”
It was the first time Lucia had heard uncertainty in his voice.
Then he looked away.
“And that frightens me.”
They continued walking.
Eventually, the trees opened into a clearing.
An ancient chapel stood there.
Its stone walls were covered in ivy, its windows shattered by years of storms. A weather-beaten cross hung above the doorway, though beneath it Lucia noticed something strange.
A royal crest.
The same symbol engraved on her pendant.
She stopped.
“This place…”
Azrael opened the door.
“My family built it.”
Lucia looked at him.
“Your family?”
He nodded.
“Before the kingdom forgot us.”
Inside, moonlight fell through the broken ceiling.
There were rows of wooden benches covered in dust. At the far end stood a stone altar.
Azrael walked toward it.
Lucia followed.
He placed his palm against the stone.
Nothing happened.
Then he whispered something in an ancient language.
The altar began to glow.
Silver light spread across the floor.
Lucia stepped backward.
“What did you do?”
“I opened the sanctuary.”
“The what?”
Before he could answer, symbols appeared on the wall.
Lucia's pendant grew warm.
She touched it.
The symbols changed.
And suddenly, she saw words.
Ancient words.
Written in silver light.
Azrael stared at them.
His face lost all colour.
“What is it?”
He didn't answer.
“Azrael?”
“The prophecy.”
Lucia looked at him.
“What prophecy?”
He stepped closer to the wall.
His fingers traced the first line.
“When the kingdom falls beneath the shadowed crown…”
His voice was barely above a whisper.
“…the lost prince shall walk among beasts.”
Lucia swallowed.
“That means you.”
Azrael continued.
“And when silver finds the heart that darkness cannot claim…”
His eyes shifted toward her pendant.
“…the crown shall break.”
Lucia stared at the final line.
There was only one sentence left.
She read it aloud.
“But only if the bride chooses the beast freely.”
Silence.
Neither moved.
Lucia's heart began to beat faster.
“The bride?”
Azrael closed his eyes.
“That is why Vespera wanted you.”
Lucia stared at him.
“She knows?”
“She has always known.”
“About me?”
“About the prophecy.”
Lucia touched the pendant.
“Then my mother knew too.”
Azrael nodded.
“She discovered Vespera's true nature before anyone else.”
Lucia's throat tightened.
“She died because of it.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew?”
Azrael looked at her.
“I knew Isabella Vale was trying to protect someone.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
Lucia turned away.
All her life, she had thought her mother had simply been a victim.
Now she wondered if Isabella had died fighting a war Lucia had never known existed.
“My mother left me this pendant.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Azrael hesitated.
“Because she believed you would need it.”
“For what?”
His voice softened.
“To find me.”
Lucia looked at him sharply.
“You're saying she knew I'd meet you?”
“I think she hoped you would.”
Lucia laughed bitterly.
“That sounds like a cruel joke.”
Azrael frowned.
“Why?”
“Because everything that happens around you ends in death.”
He looked wounded.
She immediately regretted the words.
But before she could apologize, he spoke.
“You're right.”
Lucia's expression softened.
“Azrael…”
“I was a prince.”
His voice carried something ancient.
“People died because of my failure.”
“You didn't cause the famine.”
“I don't know that.”
“You were cursed.”
“And kingdoms don't starve because of curses alone.”
He turned toward the chapel doors.
“I should have stopped Vespera eighteen years ago.”
Lucia stepped closer.
“You were only a boy.”
“I was the heir.”
“You were a child.”
His jaw tightened.
“Sometimes those are the same thing.”
Lucia said nothing.
The silence between them changed.
It was no longer uncomfortable.
It was intimate.
Fragile.
Azrael finally looked at her.
“You should hate me.”
“I don't.”
“You should fear me.”
“I do.”
He almost smiled.
“That is more honest.”
Lucia lowered her gaze.
“I fear what could happen to you.”
Something flickered in his eyes.
Then a sound came from outside.
Crack.
A branch breaking.
Azrael instantly reached for his sword.
“Stay behind me.”
Lucia's heart began pounding.
Another sound.
Closer.
Azrael moved toward the door.
Then stopped.
Someone was standing outside.
A shadow between the trees.
Lucia whispered:
“Who is that?”
Azrael didn't answer.
The figure stepped into the moonlight.
Lucia's blood ran cold.
It was a man.
Tall.
Elegant.
Dressed in black.
And smiling.
“Lucia.”
She knew that voice.
“Malachi.”
Lord Malachi Ravenscroft stepped into the clearing.
Behind him were at least a dozen armed men.
His gaze moved from Lucia to Azrael.
Then he smiled.
“Well.”
He gave a mocking bow.
“Prince Azrael.”
Azrael's hand tightened around his sword.
“How do you know my name?”
Malachi chuckled.
“I know many things.”
His eyes moved toward Lucia's pendant.
“But perhaps we should discuss what truly matters.”
Lucia stepped behind Azrael.
Malachi noticed.
His smile disappeared.
“You've chosen him already?”
Lucia frowned.
“Chosen what?”
“The beast.”
Azrael's voice became dangerously low.
“Leave.”
Malachi laughed.
“I would love to.”
He reached into his coat.
Lucia froze.
He withdrew a small silver locket.
Her mother's locket.
Lucia stopped breathing.
“Where did you get that?”
Malachi held it between two fingers.
“Your mother.”
Lucia stepped forward.
“Give it to me.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“I said no.”
Azrael moved forward.
Malachi's soldiers immediately raised their weapons.
“Don't,” Malachi warned.
Azrael stopped.
Malachi opened the locket.
Inside was a tiny portrait of Isabella.
Lucia's eyes filled with tears.
“You killed her.”
“No.”
Malachi smiled.
“Someone much more powerful did.”
He removed a folded piece of parchment from inside the locket.
Lucia stared at it.
“What is that?”
“Your mother's final message.”
Azrael's expression changed.
“Malachi.”
The man's smile widened.
“Oh, you remember.”
Lucia turned toward Azrael.
“What does he mean?”
Azrael didn't answer.
“Azrael?”
Malachi unfolded the parchment.
Then he began reading.
“If my daughter ever finds the prince, she must never follow him to the northern fortress.”
Lucia stared.
Azrael's face went rigid.
Malachi continued.
“The fortress is not a sanctuary. It is where the first seal was broken.”
Lucia's stomach tightened.
“What seal?”
Malachi lowered the parchment.
“That is the question, isn't it?”
He looked directly at Azrael.
“Tell her.”
Azrael remained silent.
Lucia turned toward him.
“Tell me.”
Nothing.
“Azrael, what happened at the northern fortress?”
His golden eyes met hers.
And for the first time since she had met him—
she saw genuine fear.
Not fear for himself.
Fear for her.
“Lucia,” he whispered.
Malachi smiled.
“Now you understand.”
He stepped backward.
“Your mother knew the truth.”
Lucia's voice trembled.
“What truth?”
Malachi looked toward the dark forest.
“The curse didn't begin when Azrael became the beast.”
He looked back at her.
“It began long before that.”
A cold wind swept through the clearing.
The silver pendant around Lucia's neck suddenly cracked.
A thin line appeared across its surface.
Azrael's eyes widened.
“No.”
Lucia looked down.
“What?”
The pendant split open.
Inside was a tiny piece of black stone.
It pulsed once.
Twice.
Then a voice whispered from somewhere beneath the earth.
“The blood of Isabella has returned.”
Lucia stumbled backward.
Azrael grabbed her.
The ground beneath the chapel trembled.
Malachi's smile vanished.
For the first time, he looked frightened.
From beneath the ancient altar came a deep, terrible sound.
Something had awakened.
Azrael stared at the floor.
“Vespera lied.”
Lucia looked at him.
“About what?”
He slowly raised his eyes to hers.
“The prophecy.”
The chapel shook again.
“And if that thing beneath us wakes completely…”
He tightened his grip around her hand.
“…the curse won't be the only thing that breaks.”
Outside, somewhere beyond the trees, a woman's laughter drifted through the night.
Vespera had found them.
And she was no longer hiding.
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