Cassie had asked about Aurora, but the ancient sorcerer merely fell silent, his skeletal frame suddenly solemn. All he said was, "That is a question best left for Klaus." Frustrating, to say the least—but what choice did she have?
Still, the words lingered in her mind. Klaus's first love? She had imagined being the first in his heart, just as he was in hers. The idea that someone else had once held that place felt... disquieting. She had never dated, never even kissed anyone before Klaus, and although her visions painted many futures, none hinted at the warmth of romance.
She tried to brush the thought aside, but it clung to her like a thorn. What if he still loved this Aurora? What if Cassie was just... a shadow of someone he had already lost? Was she simply a comfort, a familiar echo of the past?
Her jaw tightened. No. No, that couldn't be it. So what if he'd loved before? Real life wasn't some saccharine fairytale with destined soulmates and star-blessed unions. Klaus wasn't the kind of man who fit into a neat romantic narrative. He was a fracture in the world's logic—an anomaly, a paradox. His existence defied fate, tore prophecy to shreds. She hadn't met him because of fate—he had simply appeared, like a storm.
Still… curiosity gnawed at her. Who was Aurora? Was she like Nephis—composed, indomitable? Or like Effie, fierce and unfiltered? Or perhaps she was something else entirely—a quiet, graceful presence. Was she ethereal? Gentle? Overwhelmingly beautiful?
Cassie scowled, her eye twitching. Wait… was she jealous? No. No way. She was charming, radiant, magnetic. People would kill to be with her! Literally! She crossed her arms and whispered under her breath, "Damn it…"
From the corner of her eye, she noticed Lich avoiding her gaze. His skull shifted awkwardly. Weird girl, he thought. Shaking his head, he spoke:
"We're here. These are the High Priestess's chambers."
Cassie blinked, pulled from her spiraling thoughts. Right. The reason they came. She took a breath, then knocked gently, stepping back with practiced poise.
Minutes passed before a voice drifted from beyond the door—serene, almost emotionless, like someone who had long detached from the world.
"Enter."
Cassie opened the door slowly, her footsteps quiet against the marble floor. Lich followed silently behind her, moving like a shadow that had never belonged to any light.
The High Priestess was a vision of eerie grace—tall, elegant, draped in midnight robes that shimmered like obsidian under the faint starlight. Her jet-black hair fell past her waist, and her skin was porcelain-pale. She sat facing the window, gazing at the vastness of the night sky with an expression that bordered on bleak indifference. Her legs were crossed neatly, her chin resting against her palm, as though the weight of the cosmos itself had settled into her bones.
Without turning, she spoke coldly, her tone edged with threat.
"I told you to leave this place. Why are you here again? Seeking death?"
Cassie flinched, unsure how to respond—but Lich stepped forward and seated himself across from the Priestess without so much as a courtesy. He spread his skeletal legs in a way that reminded her—alarmingly—of Klaus's casual arrogance. His bony arms rested on his knees, his hollow sockets fixed upon the woman before them.
"It is an honor to meet the Lady of the North," he said with amused reverence. "The Blessed of the Black Skies."
She raised a brow, more out of habit than interest. Her posture didn't shift—elegant, poised, lifeless.
"And who might you be… Mr. Corpse?"
Lich chuckled and leaned back. "I am the Seeker of Truth. Once, I served Lady Aletheia of the Nine—as her secretary, of sorts. But those days are behind me. My loyalty now belongs to another."
A flicker of surprise crossed her face, the first genuine reaction she had shown—but it faded quickly, replaced again by icy detachment.
"I see… And what makes you such a loyal servant, then? Betraying one mistress for another. That sounds like treachery."
Lich laughed softly, the sound dry and rattling. "Oh, but I already died once. The rules no longer apply. Then came a peculiar child who dared to grasp my wandering spirit—and here I am. My new lord, well… he is an anomaly. A fascinating soul."
She tilted her head slightly. "And who is this lord of yours? This ruler so grand that even the dead follow him?"
With theatrical flair, Lich bowed his skull.
"He is not of this world. A traveler of stars, a sovereign of spirits. Jester and devil both. His name… is the Oldest Dream."
Silence fell like a dropped veil.
The High Priestess did not move. But the moment the name was spoken, something shifted. Not because of the grandiosity—but because of the truth hidden within that name. True Names—they were reflections of one's soul, past, present, and future. They were not mere titles; they were the echoes of essence itself.
Oldest Dream?
There were many interpretations. Some might say it meant awareness—others, original sin. But the most apt, the one that clawed at her mind like a whisper from the void, was the Dream of Emptiness. The primordial longing of the Void—the chaos before creation. A hunger for meaning that birthed gods and abominations alike.
Her gaze drifted to Cassie, then back to Lich.
And then… she said nothing.
Because sometimes, silence spoke the loudest.
Lich tilted his skull, faint wisps of azure flame flickering within his sockets, a wide, bone-deep grin stretching across his jaw. The sight was unsettling—unnatural in the way it seemed both amused and menacing.
Ah… so she suspects. She doesn't know the full truth, not yet, but the glimmer of awareness is there. Good. At least I'm not the only one keeping count.
He laced his skeletal fingers together with calculated calm and spoke in a smooth, echoing voice:
"My lord offers you salvation—a chance to escape that abomination cloaked in fog. You may not realize it yet, but I know what stalks these lands. Mordret… the Prince of Nothing. I am capable of defeating him and escorting your people to the sanctuary of Noctis."
The High Priestess responded with a shrug, her voice airy and detached.
"Perhaps you can. But why should I agree? If you truly possess the power to vanquish him… then why should my people abandon their homes?"
Lich's gaze seemed to darken, the flames within his sockets flaring with irritation, flickering like storm-tossed lanterns in a gale.
"Then I will kill you. And afterward, I shall take your people with me—whether they consent or not. As for why they must leave… that is not your concern."
The High Priestess smiled, serene and amused, her head tilting slightly to the side.
"You do know I am immortal, yes? I cannot be slain without—"
Her words faltered as Lich retrieved an ivory dagger from his robes and began to spin it between his fingers with a lazy flourish.
"Did you think I came unprepared?"
Then, as though just remembering, he snapped his fingers.
"Ah… almost forgot. I don't need to kill you. I could simply seal you within a binding, drag you through a thousand layers of the world. Your will means nothing here. You will do as my lord commands."
Cassie shifted uncomfortably, watching the exchange unfold. To any outsider, this might resemble a tense negotiation, but she saw it for what it was—Lich wasn't offering a choice. Not truly. And now that she thought about it… he had claimed earlier that his intention was to kill the High Priestess. Was that just a ploy? A test… for her?
Oh gods. He wanted my opinion. This whole thing was just a twisted experiment…
She resisted the urge to scream. What sort of insane situation is this? Are we seriously kidnapping my mentor? And two thousand people too?! Why do i feel like villain here!?
But the High Priestess didn't so much as flinch. Even faced with death, with the very weapon that could sever her immortal thread, she remained indifferent. In a sudden, bold gesture, she rose to her feet, leaning forward slightly, as though daring Lich to strike.
Instead, he simply touched her chest.
A pulse of translucent energy surged through the room. The High Priestess's form shimmered, dissolving into tendrils of spirit essence that were swiftly drawn into a swirling vortex… and then—nothing. Just a bottle, softly clinking to the floor, sealed in glowing runes.
Lich picked it up casually and tossed it to Cassie, who caught it with a startled gasp.
She stared at the bottle in her hands. The runes shimmered with a pale, ethereal light, etched so finely they seemed to dance across the surface. But there was something else—something beneath the runes. A hidden pattern. Subtle. Elusive. She could sense it more than she could see it.
Inside the bottle, black water coiled gently, and within that abyss… the High Priestess slumbered. A transcendent champion reduced to a tiny, sleeping figure floating like a porcelain doll.
It was… almost absurd. Yet also terrifying.
Lich dusted off his robe and turned to leave.
"Done admiring my masterpiece? Then let us be off."
Cassie followed, still transfixed by the bottle.
"What exactly is this?" she asked. "This isn't traditional runic sorcery, is it?"
"Of course not," Lich replied with a dismissive wave. "It's something new. My lord improvised the structure himself. He's already unlocked his Aspect Legacy—it grants him affinity with unconventional augmentations to existing magic. We call it the Arcane of Madness. With it… well, he's quite the magician."
Cassie hummed, still studying the bottle with a curious gleam in her eyes.
Noticing her interest, Lich sighed with theatrical exasperation.
"Must you gawk like an illiterate bumpkin? I mean… ah, yes, my lady, please do keep up. We are in a hurry. If sorcery intrigues you, I could educate you. And my lord, too, is an exceptional teacher."
Cassie shot him a look, but then her lips curled into a smirk. The absurdity of it all… and yet, it was exhilarating.
Queen of Spirits, huh? Not such a bad title after all.