The Blackcross Castle

In a dark dungeon of the Blackcross castle, Kain Fangsworth struggled against steel shackles affixed to the rugged walls. They didn’t budge. Although his strength far outstripped the strongest man, Kain knew these restraints were imbued with ancient magic to ensure even vampires could not escape. Kain closed his eyes as tears flowed down his pale cheeks, a feeble scream issuing from his throat. An optimist though he was, the many months that had come and gone since his imprisonment had mocked hope, and he had now taken to praying for a quick death he knew would not come. But who should a being like him pray to? Was there such a thing as a vampire god? Which deity delivered the damned and the accursed? Would heartfelt supplications onto the devil deliver him out of the internal war for power raging quietly among the vampire families? Kain knew he was just a pawn in a political chess game being played between the Blackcross and Fangsworth families, a pawn captured by the enemy. 

His knowledge about the war was limited. The fact was his father, Vain Fangsworth, had decided to separate their house from the remaining three houses. As far as Kain knew, his father’s goal was for the Fangsworth house to act as a single, self-sufficient family, that was to be unbeholden to the vampire laws and practices the other houses were subjected to. In other words, Vain wanted the Fangsworth house independent. Kain had only half-heartedly supported him. He genuinely wanted nothing to do with Draven Blackcross, but he knew if his father pushed too hard for Fangsworth independence, it would jeopardize his relationship with Tamsyn, a vampire woman from the Blackcross house. Suffice to say, that was exactly what had happened: Draven had not only rejected Vain’s request for independence, but he’d kidnapped Kain. Now he was suffering, not because he’d done something wrong, but because he was the son of the head of a rogue family. And in the months he’d spent languishing in this hellhole, he had asked the darkness questions from his defeated mind: What did he do to deserve this torture? Why was his own kind subjecting him to this grim fate? Was his purpose really to live a few short years only to perish like an animal? Was he to have no shot at a future of happiness, no chance to experience true love? 

Kain opened his teary eyes to darkness, his mind slipping from his control as the silence spoke to him in an agonizing monotone. As another muffled scream escaped him, he heard a great rumble break the silence, startling him. A bright light attacked his eyes. He flashed his face away, falling to his knees. The colony of bats he shared the space with fluttered away madly.

“Kain?”

He rose his head slowly to gaze upon the intruder. Her face partially obscured by the dancing flames pitching from the torch she carried, was a young woman whose existence for Kain brought bliss and misery. With her long, raven-black hair cascading down her shoulders, and eyes shoning an alluring shade of crimson, eyes that he peered into many a time in moments of deep but forbidden sensuality. This was Tamsyn Blackcross, the only child of Draven Blackcross. Her red eyes gazed softly at him, the roiling shadows of the flames playing over her lithe physique. 

Tamsyn wore a stylish purple corset, crafted from luxurious black velvet. Kain’s eyes drank the view, presuming there was some event being held at the castle for such a sensual display. His eyes found the black velvet; it was adorned with intricate lacework intertwining like delicate spiderwebs. His eyes followed the patterns of blood-red roses and thorny vines, whose precise lacing accentuated Tamsyn’s neckline and collarbone. Despite his gloomy predicament, Kain couldn’t help but be mesmerized by her beauty, the likes of which he hadn’t seen in what seemed like forever. 

“I thought I made it clear you shouldn’t return here, Tamsyn,” Kain said, belying his lust. “If Draven catches you visiting...”

Tamsyn held her free hand up. 

“Relax, Kain. My father is in a meeting with the other elders. He sent me for you.”

Kain scoffed. “That’s a lie. Your father would raise hell before he allows you to share the same space as me.”

“Fair enough,” Tamsyn said softly, stepping towards him. “It was Crocs that Draven sent to get you. I convinced Crocs to let me.”

Kain twisted his face in confusion. The haughty guard, Crocs would sacrifice an arm before disobeying Draven’s wishes. Kain decided not to push the matter. 

“What business does Draven have with me?”

“I’m not entirely sure,” Tamsyn said. “But I assume the fact that he sent for you is good news. Your presence at the meeting will reveal to the other house leaders that my father held you hostage all this time.”

Kain sat up, intrigued by Tamsyn’s suggestion. 

“And you think the other leaders will respond favorably towards me, a measly Fangsworth?”

“I do,” Tamsyn said, smiling. Her dazzling canines seemed much brighter than the torch she held above them. “The elders have no conflict with the Fangsworth house. Besides, holding a fellow vampire hostage is illegal according to vampire laws. The leaders will likely lash out against my father rather than at you.”

Silence reigned in the dungeon as Kain pondered Tamsyn’s words. He watched her as she fitted the torch into a holster just above one of the restraints keeping his hands in place.

“Why would Draven risk his position as Vampire King by revealing what he did to me?” Kain reasoned, staring at Tamsyn. He felt his mind still as he gazed upon her. 

Tamsyn shrugged. “I don’t know for sure why he’s revealing what he did to you now. But I’m willing to guess it will lead to your freedom. One step closer to us being together.”

Kain uttered a nervous chuckle. “Don’t you know your own father? His hate for the Fangsworth family goes back to before we were even born. I can assure you the rift between him and my father won’t end with the house leaders knowing what he did to me.”

Tamsyn placed her palm on his face. Then, without warning, she kissed him deeply. Kain tasted the wine on her tongue as her soft lips caressed his. It took him a moment before he indulged as much as his restraints would allow. Tamsyn withdrew, peering deep into his eyes. Kain broke eye contact, unwilling to let himself fall back into a dream that once was.

“It’s okay babe,” Tamsyn murmured. “I trust in the goodwill of the leaders. There is no way they will countenance your continued incarceration. Especially, not without just cause. You did nothing wrong…you were simply caught in a family feud. That’s all.”

Just then, Kain saw a shadow move across the dungeon’s entrance. 

“Take me up,” he said, wary Tamsyn’s presence here could get her in trouble. 

Tamsyn nodded. And with her hand still on his face, she closed her eyes and muttered something under her breath. Her palms glowed at once, an ethereal green vapor issuing from them. She stepped even closer to him, and then placed her other hand on his temple. Kain flinched as a pleasant warmth radiated through him such that he released a long, drawn-out moan. His eyes rolled back in his head as the strange euphoria deepened. As quickly as the pleasant sensation began, it disappeared in a flash. Kain opened his eyes slowly, his focus coming back momentarily. Kain felt as though he were back to normal both physically and mentally, the anguish wrought by his many months of imprisonment whisked away like a feather in a storm.

“Draven still doesn’t know about your…abilities. Does he?”

Tamsyn shook her head as she freed a key from her bosom and began undoing the locks. 

“Of course not. No one knows but us.”

“You’re living dangerously,” Kain said seriously. “The hatred Draven has for witches is only bested by the devil’s hatred for god. He wouldn’t hesitate to kill you.”

Tamsyn offered a nervous chuckle as the final lock clicked open. 

“There you go,” she chimed. “Come on. I’ll get Crocs to lead you to the guest room.”

…

A few short minutes later, Kain followed the burly guard, Crocs through thick oak doors on the uppermost floor of the Blackcross castle. No sooner had he entered the guest room than a black figure attacked his face. Startled, Kain flicked his hand trying to free himself from what seemed like some sort of bird. Someone in the room giggled as he weaved his head away from the frantic thing, which seemed hellbent on making his forehead its footstool. 

“ZEUS!” A deep, gravelly voice boomed. The flying thing retreated posthaste in the direction of the voice. As it flew, Kain saw it was a massive Flying Fox bat. It settled on the shoulders of the man who called it. Draven Blackcross, Kain thought. Just then, his eyes found Tamsyn, who had entered before them and had already taken her place beside her father. Tamsyn offered Kain a subtle smile before her shoulders stiffened, her lips drawn taut. 

Kain was inside a large room at the center of which was a large, mahogany round table. He counted eight persons seated around it, most of them peering at him in shock. They must have heard I was kidnapped…or dead, Kain thought. In his anguish inside the dungeon, he hadn’t thought much about the upheaval his disappearance must have caused in the vampire fraternity. Judging from the astonished faces in the room, he surmised there was indeed some consternation concerning his whereabouts, his disappearance probably sparking rumors. Kain avoided most of their gazes. 

“Took you long enough, b*****d boy!” Draven barked. “Have a seat.”

Kain made his way to the only empty chair in the room, a seat much less pristine than the others with plain wood and stained padding. The room smelled strongly of pine and sandalwood, and there were bottles of wine on the table. 

“You look terrible!” a female voice rang. “Though better than dead.”

Kain smiled weakly.“Thanks Lily. I appreciate your admiration.”

Lily Moonshadow was the leader of the Moonshadow family. She was a slim, caramel-skinned vampire with deep dimples, emerald-colored eyes, and a flat forehead. Her blonde hair was caught in a bun, revealing the usually concealed tattoos on either side of her neck. The Moonshadow family was unique among the vampire fraternity due to their ability to use Heka, a technique comparable to, but distinct from ‘divining magic’ done by witches for fortune-telling. Heka drew upon blood ingested rather than on the four elements or the mind. The Moonshadows acted as mediators of the vampire houses, resolving conflict and negotiating truces. 

“Let’s get on with it then,” a voice issued from Kain’s left.

 It was Owl Nightcreed, the reserved leader of the Nightcreed family, and the only house leader his father respected. A powerful and ancient vampire, Owl Nightcreed was outranked only by the Vampire King himself. Kain liked Owl. He hadn’t had the opportunity to interact with the Nightcreed much, but from what he gathered so far, Owl was impossibly calm and had a firm grasp of justice. The Nightcreed family was responsible for defending the vampires as a group, employing tactics such as aura detection and shielding. Owl’s bald wife, Carmine was beside him, and next to her. their twin children, Sebastian and Selena. 

Kain watched with growing anxiety as Draven took a sip of blood from a crystal glass. Slamming the empty glass down, he stood…all six feet five inches of him. The deep, crescent-shaped scar on his right jaw seemed to glisten under the chandeliers above.

“This meeting is called to order!” he bellowed.

The attendees straightened in their chairs. The atmosphere had suddenly become tense.

“Greetings fellow royals, and welcome again to the Blackcross house. I hope tonight’s festivities were to your liking.” Draven paused. His ominous red eyes seemed to flicker under their hoods. 

“But now it’s time for us to address serious business.”

Kain glanced at Tamsyn. She was already watching him. An inexplicable desire overwhelmed him in that instant, and he felt exposed as if he’d just yelled his feelings for her for all to hear. Such a death wish that would be, he thought as Tamsyn broke the gaze, peering at Draven, who continued.

“Firstly, I would like to commend Lily for rallying us together in such an impressive fashion. Representatives from all the royal families are in attendance. I know how difficult it is to get us all under one roof.”

Kain fielded a cold gaze from Draven, fidgeting in the chair. Someone began a spirited applause. Kain glanced across the table to see it was Selena Nightcreed. The others joined in momentarily. Lily beamed across the table, offering a dramatic bow. Kain kept his hands together. Beside him, Owl’s pet raven commenced a cawing racket, hopping across the top of its owner’s garnet-studded chair. 

“Aye Pluto!” Owl exclaimed, quieting the creature.

Draven continued. “I must also commend the Nightcreed house for being delightfully dependable in our defense against outside forces. By now, you all must have heard of Owl’s and Carmine’s exploits in detecting two wayward witches on the verge of attacking this very house. They were disposed of…of course, and in a manner befitting of their sin.”

Carmine gave a single, austere nod in acknowledgment, while Owl remained impassive, his head directed stiffly before him. Draven’s last statement about the witches being disposed of would have been lost on Kain had he not known fire was the Blackcross house’s dominant element. No doubt, those witches were burnt down to the bones.

“However,” Draven continued, “that is but a small victory in our war against the witches. And I daresay, fellow leaders, our enemies have the upper hand.”

To his surprise, Kain realized Draven was pointing at him. 

“Pathetic and weak though they are,” Draven snarled, “the Fangsworth family are still our own, and a few nights ago the Salvia Moon almost burned off young Kain’s face. A minute more under its glare would have meant his untimely death. I found him tied to a Yew in the Dunfar forest. Despite my differences with the Fangsworths, I freed the young man, but I was quickly attacked by no less than three witches. I ran through them like wildfire, leaving their shells to rot for the worms. Tamsyn here has been nursing Kain to health. This is the end result.” Draven shoved a hand at Kain disdainfully. 

Kain’s mouth had opened in shock ever since Draven began speaking about his fictitious encounter with the Salvia Moon. The Vampire King had managed to tell the most blatant lie he ever heard in his life! Draven gazed at him testily. He wants me to respond, Kain realized, avoiding eye contact. Draven seemed to be daring him to deny what he said… to deny the Vampire King. A seething anger rose inside him like a fiery snake. How dare he pretend he wasn’t responsible for the pain Kain had endured during all those months? He had to say something. Kain opened his mouth to do so, but before words could escape him, he felt his tongue stiffen, his throat constricting. Eyes widening with terror, he realized he was mute, unable to utter a single word. What was happening to him? Was he so nervous he couldn’t speak? Kain dismissed this thought as soon as it surfaced. Then, the moment passed. The desire to speak was gone as if magicked away.

Smiling nastily, Draven said, “The boy was missing for almost four months. I’m yet to uncover what happened in the months before I found him on the verge of death by the Salvia Moon. We all were wondering what fate had befallen Vain Fangsworth’s only living child. Such a tragedy it would be if the Fangsworth family had no heir.”

Kain saw Tamsyn glance up at her father, no doubt likewise shocked at this bold fabrication. 

“Why would a witch kidnap Kain though?” Lily inquired, her face creasing.

Draven shrugged. “Does there have to be a reason? Hating vampires is imprinted upon the souls of witches. Killing our kind is, for them, a rite of passage.”

Kain shook his head in disbelief. Lily didn’t seem satisfied with Draven’s response and was about to speak again when Draven forestalled her.

 “The Salvia Moon…” he began, running a hand through his black hair, “We are all susceptible to this…cosmic magic, some more vulnerable than others. To function at our highest potential, we must strategize against it. The last time we were all gathered here, we had all agreed on a plan to eliminate the witches, in the hope that the Salvia Moon would be no more.”

Kain fidgeted, his skin getting hotter by the second. Memories of the events five years ago dredged up in his mind. Draven and the other families had decided to send his older brother, Jubal on a reconnaissance mission at the Beltraine Sisterhood. Jubal failed to make it back alive…at least not all of him. Kain struggled to push the image of Jubal’s severed head from his mind. The witches had sent his head back to the Fangsworth house in a red-ribboned box. His body was never recovered. Kain caught Sebastian Nightcreed staring at him, a satisfied smirk on his face. His twin sister, Selena was staring wistfully into space. 

Draven voiced, “Lily, can you tell us where we are with the Heka aspect of the plan? The plan revolves around the Moonshadow house.”

Lily stood quickly, almost toppling the glass of wine on the table before her.

 “Certainly, Lord Blackcross. We Moonshadows have been trying to unravel the magic behind the Salvia Moon. But I daresay, it seemed to have been put in place by some extremely ancient magic. What we were able to uncover so far is that it has something to do with the three Headmistresses at the Beltraine Sisterhood.”

Draven held up a halting hand. “Are you implying those hags are the ones responsible for Salvia Moons?”

Lily shrugged. “My research tells me their ancestors did it.”

Draven nodded. Kain could see the veins beneath his eyes pulsing. 

“Quite interesting,” he croaked. “Can you confirm that killing them will return the moon to normalcy?”

“I can,” Lily replied, her voice rising a couple of octaves. “It is clear the three witches are the final members of their bloodline. Generational magic usually ends with the death of the final member of the bloodline. And with those Headmistresses in particular, they’re magically bonded, so it’s even possible killing one of them will be enough.”

“Hence, the plan remains the same,” Owl said beside Kain, his voice measured.

“Precisely,” Draven said. “We made a mistake the last time. Instead of reconnaissance, we should have brought all our forces to bear on those hags, killing every last one of them.”

“No!” 

The voice of dissent belonged to Carmine Nightcreed, Owl’s wife.

“I’m afraid that would be quite reckless. If we employ that strategy and fail, that would be the end of us.”

Draven’s expression hardened. He fixed Carmine a cold stare. Kain wondered what he would do next. It wasn’t often that someone challenged the Vampire King. Draven’s expression transformed into a sinister smile that was almost as bloodcurdling as the scowl preceding it. 

“And what, say you, should be our plan, Carmine?”

Everyone’s eyes flashed toward the bald woman, who now adjusted her scarf. She seemed to have anticipated the question, nodding in earnest as Draven asked. Her bald head glistened under the candlelight, revealing tattoos of various sigils and symbols. 

“I actually believe we had the right idea the last time. The error was that we sent only one person on the reconnaissance mission, a Fangsworth at that. The Headmistresses at the Sisterhood are seasoned witches, and it is with deepest loathing that I admit their magic is quite legendary. Some of you will remember my encounter with one of them almost a decade ago. The battle left me crippled for an entire month, leaving me bald and powerless. Had my powers faltered even for a second, I would not be here under this roof.”

Kain admired Carmine’s defiance toward Draven, but her mention of his Fangsworth house as if they were the weakest link among the families, stoked his anger. Kain recalled that she was dissatisfied with Draven’s leadership as the Vampire King and desired her own Nightcreed house to be at the helm. Draven nodded as he downed another swig of the blood in his freshly filled glass. Kain could see he was doing his best not to lash out at Carmine, biding his time as he savored the drink. Under the chandelier, Kain could see his temples twitching, a solitary vein threatening to burst from his forehead. 

“Indeed,” he finally said in a measured tone. “I had forgotten about your unfortunate experience, Carmine. You’re right.”

Draven paused, his eyes gleaming under their hoods. Kain sensed an air of deceitfulness about him. Something about the way he capitulated on the point of what they should do regarding Beltraine seemed unnatural.  

“Reconnaissance is crucial,” he muttered. “We cannot attack in mass blindly. So… who shall we assign that esteemed role, just to gather valuable information about the Sisterhood, before we return and strike them like the gods we are?”

Lily Moonshadow raised her hand. “It has to be a team of...” she began before she was interrupted.

“I was thinking,” Carmine began, this time standing as she spoke. 

Owl watched her in surprise, gazing up at his wife as if seeing her for the first time. Pluto the raven mimicked his action, its head angled upward at the woman.

 “I was thinking you should do it, Draven,” Carmine finished.

A few gasps punctuated the statement, the room getting more tense as a standoff between Draven and Carmine loomed. Kain was enjoying this segment of the meeting, and for a moment, he realized his good spirits were quite peculiar given the setting. Furthermore, he was only just released from hell less than thirty minutes ago. He gazed at Tamsyn; it was clear her healing magic had altered his mood more than he’d originally thought. Also, Kain was beginning to think that it was Tamsyn who’d caused him to be mute when he would most definitely have responded to Draven’s lie earlier. Tamsyn seemed the least perturbed by the impending fracas brewing between her father and Carmine, analyzing her nails. She was a daring woman, casting magic in a room not only occupied by haters of witches but in the presence of Lily Moonshadow, who knew everything there was to know about magic, sitting inches from her. 

“I beg your pardon?” Draven hissed.

Owl grasped Carmine’s burgundy dress, coaxing her to sit. She ignored him. 

“You’re the strongest among us, aren’t you, Draven? Who better to gather intel and return with it alive than you?” 

Carmine paused, watching Draven with eyes of steely determination. The silence in the room seemed violent as a light breeze moved through the space like a ghost, rattling the chandelier. 

Carmine continued, “Besides…you, Draven, would know exactly what to look for... the brand of magic protecting the grounds, the scope of the witches’ powers, and the means to escape should you get caught.”

Owl tugged at Carmine’s dress again. Again it was ignored. Kain wanted to laugh for some reason, but he held it in. Draven guffawed. It was a sound not unlike the bark of a vicious dog. 

“The gall you have to suggest that I, Draven Blackcross, the Vampire King, should embark on such a menial task as a reconnaissance mission. My dear Carmine, if it is only I who is fit for such a role, we may as well surrender to the witches right this minute!”

Another awkward silence moved through the room before Owl stood alongside Carmine.

“No need for this meeting to descend into chaos,” Owl said. “Perhaps the solution lies somewhere between both of your suggestions. A strong person must be sent on this mission... or rather a strong team as I think Lily was suggesting. That team can comprise of myself, Lily, and perhaps some other volunteer. That way we can almost guarantee success, while eliminating the possibility of any significant losses to our houses.”

“A wise repost,” Draven said, his posture relaxing. “Lily, you shall accompany Owl on this mission.” Draven glanced around the room. Kain tried to avoid his gaze, his eyes settling on his raw wrists. 

“KAIN FANGSWORTH!” Draven bellowed. “I shall send you along also. Surely, you won’t object to this task, given that I saved your skin from that old witch.”

Kain felt Draven’s aura pressing into his. It was an oppressive feeling, almost like he was back in the torturous atmosphere of the dungeon. Though he wanted to back out of this situation, he didn’t see a way he could extricate himself. Moreover, how would that seem to Tamsyn... that he was afraid…weak even? 

“Of course,” he said, in awe of how confidently he said it. 

Tamsyn glowered at him, her wide eyes betraying her shock and disgust. 

“Good. Then we have a plan,” Draven said, smiling. 

Carmine and Owl finally sat. Lily cleared her throat. 

“One more thing, Lord Blackcross.” 

Kain watched her smirk, pausing a while before she continued.

  “I intended to make this announcement at a later date, when I was more certain it was true. But I suppose in light of this plan we’ve just agreed upon, I should reveal it now.” 

Draven urged her on with his hands. 

Lily continued, “I have reason to believe, backed up by Noctua, second in command in the Moonshadow house, that the BloodVeil is not only alive and well, but somewhere close.”

Kain exhaled loudly, but no one noticed, for everyone reacted the same. He’d first heard about the entity known as the “BloodVeil” from his father. From what Kain had gathered from his father, the BloodVeil, otherwise known as the Scarlet Incantatrix, was a personality whose purpose was to return Nocteraia to its prior state before the trinity of witches, vampires, and lycans, tainted it with evil. Kain had always considered her to be some sort of character from folklore, who had the powers of a god…or goddess in this case. Earlier in the dungeon, he had wondered about the god of the vampires; if the vampires ever had a god, it would have to be the BloodVeil. Draven turned to face Lily directly. 

 

“The BloodVeil?” Draven repeated after a long while. 

Lily nodded. “I know it sounds absurd. And I’m sure some of us here, especially the younger set, were led to believe the BloodVeil is a myth. But the Moonshadows’ Heka has seldom failed.”

Owl shook his head madly. And for the first time, Kain saw that the head of the Nightcreed house was visibly rattled.

  “That’s impossible,” Owl remarked. “The BloodVeil is long dead. Her death is well-documented and can be easily proven.”

Draven closed his eyes, reclining into his massive, throne-like chair, his face creased with worry and stress. Kain peered at him wondering what he was thinking.

“I know, Owl,” Lily grumbled. “But that’s what our Heka told us.”

“The BloodVeil is a non-issue,” Draven said dismissively. “It has no bearing on our mission at Beltraine.” 

Kain saw that despite Draven’s calm, he was sweating heavily, his face awash and glistening. Kain got the impression the topic of the BloodVeil was bothering him.

“Oh, but it does have a bearing on the mission, Draven!” Lily exclaimed.

At that instant, the chandeliers flickered like ornate, blinking eyes. The dramatic timing of it pitched the room into silence once again. Kain glanced nervously around him, looking to see if everyone else felt the change in the atmosphere. Tamsyn was fidgeting, biting her lips as her head flashed about her. Selena had finally emerged from her stupor, staring expectantly at Draven, who now spoke.

“But Lily, we are jumping ahead of ourselves. I’m tempted to ask you how exactly you came upon such information, but I know the intricacies of the Heka ability would be lost on all of us. But still, would you tell us, if you can, where the BloodVeil is located?”

Lily nodded. “The question of where the BloodVeil is located…” her voice trailed off. “Well…I’ll let you decide for yourselves.”

With that, Kain watched the woman pull a small scarlet vial from her corset. The light from the chandelier played across its rough surface as Lily carefully unscrewed the cap.

“Is that...” Tamsyn began, her eyes glued to the vial.

“The Bloodwhisper Elixir, yes.” Lily whispered. “It took us three years to brew it to perfection.”

To Kain’s astonishment, lilac vapor started rising from the liquid inside. Its slow, almost purposeful motion gave the impression the smoke was conscious. As Kain thought this, Lily raised her hand.

“Quiet. Listen as the spirits speak.”

The instruction was pointless; a deathly quietude had already fallen upon the room. The smoke that had risen above them stopped suddenly. Kain saw it had taken the form of a woman. Draven’s pet bat, Zeus squeaked, fluttering its wings. 

Lily’s lips twitched before she spoke. “Oh great spirit of blood. I call upon you in reverence. May we bother you to confirm a matter that affects us all?”

Kain watched the female spirit flutter, sending wisps of gas about her.

“Indeed. Ask what you must. But do it quickly. It is not proper for my consciousness to be here.”

The voice sounded shrill and far away, as though it came directly from beyond the grave. Kain saw that Draven’s face was contorted as the scene unfolded. He surmised Draven’s consternation stemmed from the witch-like nature of the ritual now unraveling in his house. Draven hated witches.

“Thank you,” Lily croaked. “Please. Tell us where the BloodVeil is currently residing.”

There was a long pause, during which the spirit seemed to freeze. Kain thought it might not respond as its breezy lilac essence faded. But then it emitted a hum before the eerie voice sounded.

“The Scarlet Incantatrix shall rise in two, where the goddess of three makes one.”

With that, the ghost’s essence coalesced into a single, thin thread of gas, streaking back into the scarlet vial. Kain was so enraptured in the spirit’s revelation that he jumped when Owl’s voice sounded beside him. 

“A strange revelation,” he said. “But I think we can all agree where that place is.”