"Interesting…" Hilda murmured, adjusting her pince-nez slightly as she leaned closer. The ancient inscriptions etched into the chest's surface remained stubbornly silent, offering no clue, no glimmer of instruction on how to unlock the mysterious container.
Her brow furrowed. "Too strange," she added under her breath, frowning. In all her centuries of magical study, battles, and relic-hunting, she had never encountered a lock she couldn't eventually open. Enchanted tombs, cursed temples, even dimensional seals—none had ever resisted her will for long. But this chest… this one defied her.
She placed a careful hand on the cool surface. "Is it guarding something dangerous? Or perhaps it contains ancient scrolls… spells so potent they could tear the world apart if misused?"
Dozens of thoughts raced through her mind, each more dramatic than the last. She had encountered traps and riddles, wards fueled by ancient gods, and even living prisons. But this stillness—this impenetrable silence—it unnerved her. She cast spell after spell, weaving magic of detection, unlocking, revelation. All failed.
Hours passed.
Sighing, she stepped away from the chest, her hands slightly trembling with exhaustion. "You always were a clever one, Mother," she whispered with a faint smile. "But even you had your blind spots."
She moved to the rest of the laboratory—dusty tables, scrolls, glowing crystals half-buried in dwarvenstone, and faded diagrams cluttered the once-pristine space. She searched every corner with a careful eye, finding nothing of value—at least, nothing that helped with the chest.
Her steps eventually brought her to a raised stone platform—a mana source, partially hidden beneath carved runes.
"But you always did forget something," she said with a smirk, stepping onto the platform. "There's a reason I was chosen to be a Great Mage."
Creak
A golden light surged outward from the runes as soon as her mana interacted with the circle. The lab was bathed in a warm glow, sweeping away the lingering sense of dread. All around her, runes etched deep into the tower's walls lit up one after another, casting the entire chamber in radiant golden hues. Each rune began to shift and shimmer, their once-fixed patterns reluctantly realigning, bending to the will of a new master.
Whoosh
A gust of wind swirled through the tower, fresh and invigorating—cleansing. It danced around Hilda like a living thing, drawing from her strength and rewarding her efforts.
"That was… tough," she gasped, collapsing to one knee. Her breathing was heavy, sweat beading on her brow. She hadn't been this drained in decades. Still, a grin tugged at the corners of her lips.
"I made the right decision coming here," she said, and conjured a small fireball to light the path ahead. A stone slab at the base of the platform had shifted, revealing a hidden staircase spiraling down into shadow.
Without hesitation, she descended.
Cobwebs clung to her robes as she moved deeper into the forgotten levels of the tower. Halfway down, she stopped abruptly, eyes narrowing at a massive footprint carved into the stone floor. The edges were deep and clawed, still radiating lingering chaos mana.
Her breath caught.
"No… that's not possible," she whispered. "Even black demons don't leave this much mana behind."
She placed her hand near the claw mark, eyes wide. "There's only one fiend I know capable of leaving this kind of trail…"
Her voice dropped to a harsh whisper: "Draghyr."
The name echoed in the chamber like a curse.
More clawed footprints followed. Lizard-like in shape, malevolent in presence. Hilda followed them, her heart heavy. The implications were clear now: the white dragon had already been here. Long before her.
"So that's how he summoned the Reaper," she muttered. "And how he accessed that other dimension. The demonic army… Patricia…"
A rush of rage surged in her chest. She struck the tunnel wall with her fist. "He used the book!"
But then… her brows furrowed.
"Why did he return it?"
The question lingered, unanswered and haunting. She had no choice but to shelve it for now. The Great Matriarch pressed forward, her focus returning to the mission at hand.
Soon, an overwhelming pulse of mana washed over her. It throbbed with slow, heavy intensity—like a heartbeat. She approached the source, a heavy iron door that bore no defensive wards, no enchantments. Unusual.
"Maybe Draghyr disabled them," she guessed.
She opened the door without resistance, revealing a chamber thick with raw energy… but visually unremarkable. No throne, no relics, no skeletons or floating artifacts. Just stone and silence.
"Where are you?" she whispered, and then she closed her eyes.
All her senses dulled except her magical perception. She reached deep, past the static hum of residual spells, past the faint echoes of ancient magic, until—there. One singular thread of mana stood out amidst the noise. It pulsed from a single direction.
Her eyes opened, glowing bright gold.
Following the mana thread, she made her way toward a giant dwarvenstone cube. It sat unmoving in the middle of the room, runes barely visible across its surface. Most were worn, faded by time—but some remained intact. Untouched.
Even Draghyr hadn't bothered to check this.
"So the book wasn't his goal," she murmured. "Not entirely."
Tap
Her ivory wand struck the cube gently.
At first, nothing.
Then, slowly, the surface began to glow—a rhythmic pulse like a beating heart. The side facing her slid forward, as if on invisible rails, revealing a slot engraved with a shape she recognized instantly.
"I guess you did trust me… in your own way," she said, voice softer now.
She unclasped the amulet around her neck. It fit perfectly into the engraving.
Click
A low crimson light filled the room. The drawer slid open.
Inside, nestled within a protective field of mana, was a heart. A black heart, beating slowly—quietly—like it had always been alive.
"Ba-dum… ba-dum…"
The mana emanating from it was… strange. Not wholly dark, not purely light. Balanced… but unnaturally so.
Hilda stepped back, awe replacing her usual stoicism. "What… what are you?"
And for once, even she didn't have the answer.