The moon hung like a whisper above the castle, dim behind thin clouds. It was the sort of night when the air itself felt like it was holding its breath.
Sabel stood before the sealed hatch near the eastern tower's base—a crooked slab of ancient stone, overgrown with ivy and half-forgotten by time. But not by him.
A nudge of magic, a shimmer of green light, and the hidden seal melted away.
Click.
The hatch creaked open, revealing an arched stairway curling downward into damp blackness.
"Careful," Percy whispered from Sabel's shoulder. "Smells like old secrets and bad decisions."
Sabel grinned. "My specialty."
With torchlight blooming in his palm, he descended into the shadows.
The tunnel twisted like a serpent, old and pulsing with forgotten magic.
Walls carved with runes pulsed faintly. Sabel brushed his fingers across one—feeling a tingle, like being watched by something ancient.
"Percy," he said, voice lowered, "these aren't defense runes. These are... memory locks."
"Squawk—meaning?"
"Meaning whatever happened down here wasn't meant to be erased. It was meant to be remembered—but only by those who pass the test."
Further in, the passage opened into a dome-shaped crypt chamber. Dust clung to everything like fog, and six statues of old kings lined the edges—stoic, weather-worn, and half-cracked by time.
But one statue stood untouched.
Younger. Proud. Crowned with feathers instead of gold.
The inscription below read:AURELIAN THE ILLUSIVE – THE KING WHO VANISHED.
Sabel squinted. "Wasn't he the one who went 'on a voyage' and never returned?"
He stepped closer. Beneath the statue's feet was an iron plaque, scuffed but readable:
"For those who find this place, remember—Power unguarded rots, but power deceived can grow wings."
Suddenly, the statue moved.
Its stone eyes flared with light. A voice echoed—not from the statue, but from the chamber itself.
"You walk the path of deception. Do you seek to rule or to mislead?"
Sabel froze.
"…Bit of both?"
The light dimmed. A groove opened in the floor, revealing an ornate metal case, no larger than a lunchbox.
Inside it lay an old ring, its gemstone swirling with illusions—shifting between ruby, sapphire, and emerald.
"The Signet of Aurelian," Sabel whispered. "A royal seal... capable of bending perception itself."
Percy squawked. "Sabel! Look!"
He turned just in time to see shadows writhing along the edges of the chamber. A wall of mist surged—forming into a figure wearing Marick's face.
Only... older. Harsher. And with eyes that didn't blink.
"Stop digging, little prince," the phantom said, its voice echoing like broken glass. "You'll uncover truths even your father buried."
Sabel narrowed his eyes. "Is this a memory? Or a threat?"
The phantom smirked. "Both."
It lunged.
Sabel dodged, rolled, cast a barrier. The illusion split into a dozen versions—each one laughing, darting, vanishing. The chamber twisted like a maze.
"Illusions inside illusions—delightful!" Sabel laughed, leaping between shadows. "But I am deception!"
With a flick of his wrist, he twisted the ring once—and the entire chamber shifted. Statues blinked, the mist froze, and all but one phantom remained.
Sabel struck.
The phantom shattered into glass-like shards, fading into silence.
And from the broken pieces fell... a medallion.
He picked it up. On its back: the sigil of the Royal Army. But not the modern one—this was an older crest. One phased out during the reign of Aurelian.
The spy network didn't start recently. It started generations ago.
He pocketed the medallion, extinguished the flame in his hand, and turned back toward the tunnel.
Back in the café, hours later...
Sabel slumped into a chair, mud-caked and exhausted.
Rosemary poured him a cup without a word.
He sipped it and sighed. "Do you think the past can haunt the future?"
She raised a brow. "You're the one talking to statues and chasing ghosts."
"I found a ring," he added.
Percy chimed in. "And fought a phantom!"
Rosemary blinked. "You brought it home, didn't you?"
The ring glowed faintly in his palm, reflecting a dozen versions of himself in the spoon.
"…Maybe."
She sighed and muttered, "You're a coffee prince with the curiosity of a raccoon."
He beamed. "And you love it."
She rolled her eyes, hiding her smile.