Crescent (Old Version)

+ Part 48 +

The ballroom had been draped in every shade of red imaginable. It blurred together into a sea of flowing crimson and dripping scarlet, and I swam in the vastness of it. 

I swam, I tired, I sank.

Ceth smiled as I succumbed to the waves of people that seemed to swarm me. He smiled and held a taunting hand out with no intention of helping me. My red gown felt too tight, the dagger strapped to my thigh felt like a brick weighing me down. I was drowning, and somewhere in the distance, I heard a voice I'd struggled to hear for so long. That voice alone is what nearly made me weep: Rosie's voice. She whispered to me, past the noise, past the swarm closing in: "Leave this place."

Even in my dreaming, I knew I'd heard that before. But, Rosie's voice- Rosie's sweet sweet voice- had me ignoring all logic and reason. 

I fought against the ocean of limbs that I now had to clamber over to see through to the red on the other side. 

"Brenna."

"Brenna."

"Brenna."

"Brenna."

Voices called after me, and I finally pushed past the crowd enough to see a figure standing at the edge of the red sea, leering at me. The figure I recognized wasn't my sister at all... It was the creature of the wood.

||||||||||

I was not exactly a prisoner of the castle, but the protection of the library had become my new home. Every waking moment was spent with my nose in the spine of a book or my feet planted in whatever position helped me balance when Saren threw something my way. 

Moira and the servants had made themselves scarce, and since I hardly left the library except for training anyways, the castle felt dead and swarming with the ghosts of moments-passed. I hadn't been to a meeting with the ambassadors in over a week, since Ceth claimed I only seemed to slow negotiations. 

The scent of thyme and coriander filled the hallways one evening, telling stories of the dinner being prepared in the kitchen, and when the library doors opened and Moira stood in the doorway, I smiled. The book in my hand became a forgotten thing on the table and I bounded to her quickly. "What an unexpected surprise."

Her cheeks turned rosy, and she linked one arm through mine, a lantern in her other hand, as she walked with me down the hall. "Unfortunately, it's not without reason."

I frowned at that but let her guide the way. When we reached the infirmary, I thought we might be going to the glen, but we took a different door at the hall. We walked arm and arm through the dark, the lantern the only source of light as we wound down flight after flight of musty hallways and darkened ingresses. 

We walked for an eternity, and I knew we had to be further beneath the bedrock than I'd ever been before. Down the last blackened hallway, a single lantern flickered against a wall, the flame a flickering ancient spell that banished the shadows to the corners.

Before us, there was a stone door with the Shawcross crest carved into it, the lantern burning quietly beside it. I'd only heard of it off-handedly a few times: the Vervale realm vault. 

A vault, I realized, that held the prized jewels Ceth seemed keen on boasting of. 

Moira held her own lantern up, and in the dark, I could only see one side of her face as she lifted the light.

"What are we doing here?" my voice was swallowed up by the mammoth vault door. I'd never been afraid of the dark, but something about being so far beneath the ground made my stomach churn. The cold air around us seemed to stir with every stair we'd taken down. Moira shivered as the light shined on the crest. For a moment, I just stared at the door, glowing runes flashing as the lantern light swam over them. I looked to Moira in question.