Chapter 4
1023 Words
The hidden door in Tower Nine slid open with a quiet hiss, revealing a narrow hallway that sloped downward. The rain had made the air damp, and the faint lights on the walls hardly showed the way.
Eli hesitated for a second. Behind him was the glass tower glittering under bursts of lightning, but before him, the hallway felt older than it should have been for a modern skyscraper. He adjusted the backpack on his shoulder, remembering what Noire had told him before:
“This place holds power, and danger.”
At the bottom of the hall, they stopped in front of a heavy iron door. The crimson tree was carved into it, its roots twisted around a single unblinking eye. Noire pressed her hand to a hidden panel, and the door creaked open.
Inside was a vault that looked frozen between centuries. The soft pools of light flickering above revealed several glass cases holding strange things: a rusted dagger designed with runes, a cracked orb filled with swirling red mist, and a piece of old worn-out armor marked with the same crimson tree symbol.
What the hell…? Eli thought as they passed through further stranger things. One wall was stacked with old books in languages Eli couldn’t read. In the center stood a marble altar, white with blots of red stone running through it. That same tree symbol was carved right into its surface. He ran a hand along one of the glass cases, brushing his fingers against the cool metal frame. Inside was a bundle of old letters tied with a red ribbon.
Just how many hands had touched these? How many secrets lay buried here? Eli's pulse quickened in curiosity. Noire moved quietly toward the altar. She touched the carving, her fingers tracing the branches.
“This altar has seen a lot,” she said, slowly. "Blood rituals, oaths, awakenings. Tonight, it’s your turn. This isn’t just a ceremony… it’s the beginning of everything that comes after.” She looked at him. “Do you understand what this means?”
Eli nodded, even though he wasn’t sure he did. His jacket was still damp from the rooftop rain, and the cold crept down his back. “I think so,” he said. “But I don’t know what I’m supposed to feel or see.”
Noire studied him for a beat, then reached into her coat and pulled out a small blade. It was curved, slim, and had a crimson stone set into the handle. “This blade has sealed a lot of bloodlines,” she said. “It’s old and sacred. Tonight, it will open yours.”
She held it out. “Stretch forth your hands.”
Eli’s hand hovered over the altar and Noire placed his palm gently against the cool stone.
“Steady,” she said.
He didn’t speak, but he felt the pressure of something deep. It was almost as if a lot of people were watching.
Noire pricked her palm first. A single drop of blood fell onto his hand… warm and oddly comforting. Then she pricked his palm. The sting was small, but blood welled up fast. She guided his finger to his lips. The metallic taste hit the back of his throat sharply.
The lights flickered, and Eli felt dizzy… his vision blurred even as he blinked furiously. Whatever Noire was saying… he wasn’t in the vault anymore.
He stood on a hill beneath a red sky as the wind tore through his clothes. Below, a battlefield stretched out… warriors in armor with the crimson tree on their shields were fighting a faceless enemy in full blackened cloaks. Suddenly, a sword appeared in his hand.
The runes on its blade glowed faintly.
Eli moved without thinking, charging forward with the others. His heart pounded as voices rose around him, chanting a name he didn’t know, but somehow felt was his. Next to him, a man fought like he’d done it a hundred times. This man's face felt… familiar.
Eli reached out to call him, but the scene melted away. Now he was in a stone room, surrounded by several hooded figures whispering gibberish… or at least what he thought it was.
A war was coming, they said. They spoke of someone who’d change everything.
~The Heir… comes at midnight… the blood awakens…
The words didn’t make full sense, but Eli felt them in his bones. Just then, a sharp pain shot through his palm. He gasped, and just like that, the vision snapped. He was back in the vault, standing on wobbly legs. Eventually, Eli’s knees gave out. He sank beside the altar, breathing like a deranged soul.
The room was quiet again, but nothing felt the same. The letter in his bag, the one that led him here suddenly felt like it weighed a hundred pounds. Immediately, Noire crouched beside him, her hand patting his shoulders gently.
“You saw what others couldn't,” she said. “The past, the future, and the war that’s already begun. Mind you, the brother you saw… he’s real.”
Eli shut his eyes, trying to control his pulse hammering in his ears. His palm ached where the blade had cut him, and he could still see that masked figure…. still hear his name being called.
He opened his eyes and looked at Noire.
She stood and offered her hand. “Your blood has answered. You’re one of us now.”
Eli pressed his injured hand to his chest, then took her hand with his good one, rising slowly. The altar was quiet as well as the humming relics… everything seemed frozen. But they knew what had just happened. As they turned to leave, Eli looked over his shoulder once, just to be sure all these were real. But the carved crimson tree symbol seemed to help with his belief. It was always there.
Though Eli's steps were a little draggy, they made their way back through the hallway. His thoughts were in disarray because he knew something he hadn’t known before.
This wasn’t just history coming back… someone was just waiting for him to remember.
- Writer
