Her head tilted back, eyes tracing the intricate runes on the ceiling above. These catacombs were ancient, older than the church itself. Phantom Lord had sealed these spirits here long before Zariya had joined, back when she still believed she could carve out a place for herself among the most powerful of mages. But now, she was different. She wasn’t the ambitious girl who had left Skaal, eager to prove herself. She had been hardened by the weight of her failures, by the death of her brother, Vali, and the collapse of everything she had fought for. A dark smile flickered across her lips. What a fool she had been, believing she could control her destiny.
In the silence, the words of the final spirit echoed in her mind:
"You, who have lost everything.” She clenched her fists. Those words stung, not because they weren’t true, but because she
had lost everything and was still standing. But surviving wasn’t enough. She needed to feel something again. To break free from the numbness that had settled into her bones, gnawing at her like the dark abyss that once tried to claim her. With a growl, she pushed off the wall, her body protesting every movement. She could feel the bruises forming under her skin from where the spirits had slammed into her during the battle. Being a vampire had its perks, but it didn't make her invincible. It just made her less human.
Her mind drifted to the spirit of the woman she had met earlier, the one pleading for her daughter. She had no interest in saving some random child. Zariya wasn’t a hero. Never had been. But still, something gnawed at her, something unspoken. Maybe it was the fact that the woman reminded her of the ghosts she couldn’t shake? Her own mother, the memories of Vali, her father even. The people she had once vowed to protect, the people she had failed.
Letting out a long, frustrated breath, she made her decision. Zariya didn’t owe anyone anything, but if she didn’t at least look into it, that nagging voice in the back of her mind would never shut up. And she’d had enough sleepless nights without adding one more to the tally. Leaving the chamber, Zariya retraced her steps through the labyrinthine catacombs, her senses on alert. The air still felt heavy, as if the remnants of the spirits lingered, but she knew the worst was over. Her boots scraped against the stone as she climbed the winding stairs back up to the church, the oppressive cold gradually giving way to the musty warmth of the building above.
When she reached the top, the old priest was waiting for her near the entrance, his bony hands clasped together in anxious anticipation. His hollow eyes searched her face, hoping for some sign of success.
“They’re gone,” Zariya said flatly, her voice devoid of any satisfaction.
“The spirits won’t be bothering you...for now, at least.”The priest nodded, his shoulders sagging in relief, though the weight of his age and the burden of what he had witnessed remained heavy on him.
“Thank you, Miss. The church—”“Save it,” Zariya cut him off, her patience running thin. She wasn’t interested in gratitude or blessings. She had more pressing matters to deal with. Without waiting for a response, she turned and headed for the door, her mind already shifting to the next task. The docks. The girl. She didn’t know what she expected to find, but something about the spirit’s desperation struck a chord. Maybe she was a fool for chasing the ghost’s last request, or maybe it was just another distraction from the weight of her own misery. Either way, she was committed now.
As she stepped out into the night air, the cool breeze hit her face, carrying with it the familiar scent of the sea. Oak City’s docks weren’t far, just a short walk away from the church. She could hear the distant clang of ships being loaded, the calls of workers shouting orders, and the ever-present hum of the underworld’s activity just beneath the surface.
Zariya pulled her cloak tighter, her steps purposeful as she made her way toward the water. Whatever waited for her at the docks—good or bad—didn’t matter. She had a job to do, and she wouldn’t stop until it was finished. After all, there were worse things than the dead to face in this world. And Zariya Onfroy had never been afraid of the dark.
2,500/2,500
[end]