Chapter 33: The Night Before the Descent
The night before the descent was unnaturally quiet.
Torches flickered along the stone walls of the West Wing, casting long, dancing shadows across the empty flagstones. Rain tapped softly against the high stained-glass windows. Most second-year mages were already asleep in their quarters, resting before the morning march into the Enigma Dungeon.
I sat at my small wooden desk, oiling the leather straps of my warding pack.
The warm pulse under my ribs beat steadily. Denser than last week. Warmer. The purified core sitting at the Fourth Ascension threshold was completely stable, locked tight under my suppressed Second Ascension public cover.
A sharp exchange of voices echoed down the far end of the corridor.
I set the oil rag down and listened.
---
At the corner of the gallery corridor, near the dark archway leading to the noble wing, two figures stood in the torchlight.
Caelum Voss and Lady Elara Snowveil.
Caelum’s formal knight coat was unbuttoned at the collar. His eyes were bloodshot, his jaw tight with suppressed anger. He had been drinking, or perhaps he simply hadn’t slept since yesterday’s public rejection in the atrium.
Elara stood with her back against the stone wall, her arms crossed over her dark wool blazer. Her long white hair fell over her shoulder in a neat braid. Her face was completely cold.
"You had no right to break the seal," Caelum said, his voice low and bitter. "Our families signed that agreement six years ago."
"The agreement was cancelled by House Snowveil," Elara answered, her tone smooth and flat. "The formal notice was delivered to your father’s house yesterday morning."
"You did this because of the arrangement!" Caelum hissed, stepping closer to her. He lowered his voice, but the rage vibrated through his words. "Because I brought you to Vance’s room in the first place!"
Elara didn’t flinch. She just looked at him with dead golden eyes.
"You brought me there," she said softly.
"I brought you there and gave Vance the recording crystal so I could watch it!" Caelum snapped, leaning in so close his shadow covered her face. "I gave you permission for that arrangement! As my fiancée, it was your duty to obey me! You were supposed to let him take you, let him record it for me, and come back to my side when it was done!"
Elara stared at him. For a long second, she didn’t speak.
"Come back to your side?" she repeated. Voice small. Cold.
"Yes!" Caelum’s eyes were wild with self-righteous logic. "I gave the order! As my promised wife, if I tell you to sleep with another man so I can watch the recording, you obey! That is what a loyal fiancée does! You don’t get to take my permission and turn it into an excuse to break our contract and humiliate my house in front of the entire academy!"
He genuinely believed it.
Standing there in the dark corridor, Caelum looked at her with absolute conviction. In his mind, he hadn’t done anything wrong by offering his own fiancée to another man so he could watch the recording of her being taken. In his mind, the only crime committed was Elara refusing to stay obediently by his side after fulfilling what he ordered.
Elara looked at him for five long seconds.
Then a small, faint smile touched the corner of her lips. Not a happy smile. A cold, disgusted smirk that cut deeper than any insult.
"You really are pathetic, Caelum," she whispered.
Caelum jolted as if she had struck him. "What did you say?"
"I thought you were just strange," she said, her voice dropping into a razor-sharp whisper. "I thought you just had a sick taste you couldn’t control. But you are smaller than that. You actually believe you have the right to command me after handing me to another man so you could watch."
"Elara—"
"Do not touch me," she interrupted, stepping past him before his hand could reach her arm. "If you step near my quarters tonight, I will alert the night patrol. Save what little dignity you have left for Floor Twelve tomorrow."
She walked past him without looking back.
Caelum stood alone under the flickering torch, his fists trembling at his sides, his chest heaving with silent rage.
---
Twenty minutes later, the latch on my dorm door clicked open soft and quick.
A slender figure stepped inside and pulled the heavy oak door shut behind her.
Elara.
She wore her dark linen nightshirt and a heavy wool cloak wrapped around her shoulders. Her white hair was loose now, cascading over her collarbones in soft waves. Her golden eyes were bright, but her breathing was quick and uneven.
She didn’t wait for me to speak. She walked straight across the small room, stopped in front of my chair, and looked down at me.
"He stopped me in the hallway," she whispered.
"I heard," I said, setting my warding tools onto the desk.
She let out a short, shaky breath and rubbed her temples with both hands. "He actually told me it was my duty. He told me that because he handed you the crystal to record us, I had no right to end our engagement."
"He’s a high noble," I said, standing up from my chair. "They are taught that the world owes them everything."
I stepped closer to her, taking her chin between my thumb and forefinger. I tilted her head up until her golden eyes met mine.
"Does it bother you?" I asked softly.
Elara’s breath caught in her throat. She looked up into my face, her golden eyes wide and dark.
"No," she whispered. Her hands reached up and gripped the front of my shirt. "It made me feel sick. Looking at him standing there, making excuses... it made me realize how disgusting he always was."
"And what about me?" I asked, my grip on her chin tightening just enough to make her yield.
Color flooded her cheeks. She pressed her body against mine, her fingers digging through my dark blazer until she felt the hard chest underneath.
"You don’t make excuses," she whispered, her voice trembling with that deep, shameless need she could no longer hide. "You just take what you want. You forced me to admit what I am, and I can’t go back to a boy who begs."
I pulled her closer by her hip, burying my hand in her long white hair. I pressed my lips against her neck, biting down soft right over her pulse point until she let out a broken gasp.
"Remember that down on Floor Twelve tomorrow," I told her against her skin. "You belong to me now. Not House Voss. Not the academy."
"I know," she gasped, her arms wrapping tight around my neck as her body shivered against mine. "I know..."
She stayed in my room for an hour, resting her head against my chest in the dark, her body soft and quiet while the rain beat against the glass outside.
---
Across the high-noble wing, Celestia Raine lay awake in her private suite.
The room was dark. The three layers of velvet drapes blocked out the moonlight entirely.
She lay on her back with her hands folded over her chest, staring up at the empty ceiling beams. Her wooden focus staff rested on the nightstand beside her bed.
Her heart was beating fast.
Tomorrow morning, the heavy iron gates to Floor Twelve would open. She would be stepping into the dark rift alongside Lucien, Caelum, Elara, and Leo.
She closed her eyes.
Her mind immediately went back to Training Hall Three earlier today. The blinding flare of blue light. The solid wall of overcharged warding mana that had saved her from the tier-four spell.
Leo standing behind the pedestal, his hands in his pockets, looking at her with those dark, unbothered eyes.
Everyone hides something in this academy.
She turned onto her side and pulled her blanket up to her chin. Her thighs pressed together tightly under the sheets as a familiar, heavy warmth spread through her lower body.
She didn’t touch herself tonight. She didn’t dare.
She just lay there in the dark, listening to the rain outside, knowing that in less than eight hours she would be standing next to him in the deep dark of Floor Twelve.
---
Dawn broke grey and cold over the academy towers.
By six in the morning, Squad Two stood before the massive iron descent gates at the entrance of the Enigma Dungeon. The heavy stone archway was carved with ancient sealing runes that glowed with a faint, pulse-like red light. Below the threshold, a wide stone staircase spiraled down into pitch darkness.
Expedition monitors in heavy armor stood along the upper ledge, checking squad gear and warding stamps.
Prince Lucien stepped to the front of our line, his silver coat gleaming in the pale morning light.
"Squad Two," Lucien announced, turning back to look at us with his confident public smile. "Form up. Vanguard first, rear ward behind. We make a clean descent to Floor Twelve."
Caelum fell in on the left flank, his face rigid and unreadable. Elara took the right vanguard position, her white hair tied tight, her eyes staring straight into the dark stairwell without looking at Caelum once.
Celestia took her position in the rear line, her staff held firm in her gloved hand. She glanced back at me for one short second as I strapped the heavy Warding Stone onto my belt.
"Gates opening!" the head monitor shouted from above.
CREAAAACK!
The massive iron doors ground open slowly, releasing a wave of cold, damp dungeon air that smelled of ancient moss, raw stone, and deep continental residual.
Lucien drew his golden sword and stepped over the threshold first.
"Move out," he ordered.
One by one, Squad Two stepped over the stone threshold and disappeared down into the dark.