Chapter 16

The Blood of the De Claire

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The storm lasted for three days.
Rain lashed against the palace towers, turning the courtyards into pools of silver.
Each night, thunder rolled across the city like a warning — as if the heavens themselves knew what stirred beneath the crown.

Aurelia hadn’t slept.

She sat by her desk, a single candle flickering beside a pile of ancient scrolls. The ink on her fingers was smudged and dark — a testament to the sleepless hours spent chasing ghosts.

Across from her, Kairos watched quietly, his arms crossed, the faint scar under his jaw catching the candlelight.

“You’ve read the same page five times,” he said softly.

“I’m looking for something my father might have hidden,” she murmured. “Something that explains all this.”

Kairos frowned. “Aurelia, you can’t blame yourself for the sins of the dead.”

“I don’t,” she said, though her voice wavered. “But whatever this serpent cult wants… it started with my family. That means it’s my responsibility to end it.”

He sighed and came closer, resting a hand on the table. “You’ve carried too much alone already.”

She looked up, her tired eyes glimmering faintly. “You speak like someone who’s never carried anything himself.”

That drew a faint, rueful smile from him. “You’d be surprised.”

Their eyes met — and in that quiet space, the storm’s roar faded.
For a heartbeat, it was just the two of them — two souls bound by duty and pain, standing at the edge of something neither dared name.

Then Aurelia’s gaze flicked back to the parchment, her tone steadying. “There was a prophecy once — one that my mother never spoke of. It was written during the founding of our house.”

Kairos tilted his head. “A prophecy?”

She nodded and began reading from an old text, its edges brittle and frayed.

‘When serpent’s blood and lion’s flame unite,
The crown shall burn, yet the world will heal.
One born of light shall break the chain,
And one of shadow guard the seal.’

She looked up. “The serpent’s blood… the lion’s flame — those were the symbols of my ancestors. The De Claire line bore the flame, the Von Salastian line bore the serpent.”

Kairos froze. “Then this… this isn’t just rebellion. It’s history repeating itself.”

Aurelia nodded slowly. “Yes. It means that whatever divides us now — love, betrayal, war — it began long before we were born.”

The next morning, they descended into the royal crypts, where the records of the old bloodlines were sealed.
The air there was cold and heavy with the scent of earth and old stone.
Candles flickered against the marble effigies of kings and queens, their carved eyes watching in eternal silence.

Aurelia’s footsteps echoed softly. “When I was a child, my mother brought me here. She said this place holds both the pride and the curse of our family.”

Kairos followed close behind. “And now we’re about to find out which one it is.”

At the far end of the crypt stood a sealed door, adorned with intricate runes that glowed faintly beneath the torchlight.
Aurelia placed her hand against it — and the sigils flared brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Kairos tensed. “It’s reacting to you.”

“It should,” she whispered. “I’m the last of its blood.”

The door shuddered — then split open with a deep, rumbling sigh.

Inside was a chamber untouched by time.
A circular room lined with silver engravings.
And at its center stood a stone pedestal — holding an ornate book bound in crimson leather.

Aurelia approached it slowly. The cover bore the emblem of her house — a flame entwined with a serpent.

As she brushed her fingers across it, a faint warmth spread through her hand, like the book itself recognized her touch.

Kairos watched her carefully. “What is it?”

“My family’s true chronicle,” she said quietly. “The one they never let the public see.”

She opened the cover — and both of them leaned in.

The first page was filled with symbols of old magic. Then words written in her ancestor’s hand:

‘To those who carry the name De Claire, beware the gift we stole.’

Aurelia’s pulse quickened.
She flipped to the next page.

‘The first Emperor of Salastian and the first Duchess of De Claire forged peace through forbidden magic — a pact sealed by blood.
The serpent and the flame were bound to sustain balance. Should one break the bond, the other shall fall into ruin.
To preserve the kingdom, one bloodline must always suffer so the other may rule.’

Aurelia’s hands trembled. “They… tied our fates together with a curse.”

Kairos clenched his jaw. “So your suffering — your parents’ tragedy — it wasn’t just fate. It was the price.”

She closed the book, her breath shaky. “Every De Claire and Von Salastian heir was born carrying that bond. Love or hate — it didn’t matter. One could never rise without the other’s fall.”

Kairos looked at her, his expression shadowed with realization. “Then if this cult wants to ‘free’ the empire from your family, they’re trying to break that bond — even if it destroys everything.”

Aurelia nodded. “And the key… is my blood.”

That night, Aurelia sat alone in her chamber, staring at the book again.
Each page told more of the same story — sacrifice, betrayal, redemption.
Every century, one heir of De Claire and one of Von Salastian were born under the same stars. And every time, they were destined to meet.

Sometimes as allies.
Sometimes as enemies.
Sometimes as lovers.

And always — as fate’s prisoners.

The door creaked open behind her.
Kairos entered, still in his dark uniform, the faint scent of rain following him.

“You should rest,” he said.

“I can’t,” she replied. “Not until I understand why it had to be us.”

He paused beside her, then slowly sat down. “Maybe it didn’t have to be. Maybe we just made choices we couldn’t escape.”

She turned to him, eyes glimmering. “And what if every choice we made was already written in this curse? What if all of this — the crown, the pain, even you and me — was decided before we were born?”

Kairos hesitated — then reached out, brushing a lock of hair from her face.
“Then I’ll keep choosing you anyway.”

Her breath caught.

He looked at her with that quiet, steady gaze — the kind that saw through armor and sorrow alike.
“For every lifetime they curse us to repeat,” he said softly, “I’ll find you. I’ll protect you. Until the curse breaks or I do.”

Aurelia’s throat tightened. She wanted to speak, to thank him, to tell him that his words lit something inside her that hadn’t burned in years.
But all that came out was a whisper. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

Kairos smiled faintly. “Then I’ll make it my life’s work to keep this one.”

The candlelight flickered between them — a soft, fragile glow amid the storm’s echo.

Outside, lightning cracked across the horizon.
And deep within the crypt below, the serpent seal upon the stone book pulsed faintly — as if awakening.

A shadow stirred in the dark — a voice whispering through the old runes.

“The blood of De Claire will awaken the gate… and with it, the end.”