Princess Of The Skulls - Chapter 46: Chapter 46
You are reading Princess Of The Skulls, Chapter 46: Chapter 46. Read more chapters of Princess Of The Skulls.
The transformation of Lord Cassius from enemy to reluctant ally felt surreal, like waking from a nightmare only to find yourself in a different dream. His soldiers remained kneeling throughout the cathedral, their faces reflecting the kind of terror that came from witnessing powers beyond mortal comprehension. The
Armor of Echoes hummed around me, its bone plates shifting and adjusting with each breath I took.
Through our soul-bond, I felt Aldric's growing concern. Not fear of me, exactly, but fear of what I was becoming. The memories I'd absorbed from the crystal vial were changing my perspective in ways that went beyond mere knowledge. I could feel myself becoming more distant from human concerns, more focused on cosmic threats than personal relationships.
"My queen," Sir Marcus said, his ghostly form flickering slightly as he approached. "The binding that sustains us grows weak. We cannot maintain corporeal form much longer without additional power."
I nodded, understanding the implication. The spectral knights had served their purpose in tonight's battle, but keeping them manifested was draining both Aldric and me beyond our limits. Soon, I would need to choose between maintaining our ghostly army or preserving our strength for whatever came next.
"Return to your rest," I told them. "You have served with honor tonight. When the true war begins, I will call upon you again."
The ancient knights saluted as one before fading back to the ethereal realm, their forms dissolving like morning mist. The cathedral felt strangely empty without their presence, despite being filled with living soldiers.
Lord Cassius rose slowly from his kneeling position, his face carefully neutral. "If what your teacher claims is true, then we have more immediate concerns than our kingdoms' political disputes."
"Indeed," Dorian agreed, his inhuman features still visible beneath his shifting glamour. "The seals that have protected this world for millennia are failing. What happened here tonight—the combination of life and death magic on such a scale—has accelerated their deterioration considerably."
"How can you be certain?" Aldric asked, his diplomatic training asserting itself even in these bizarre circumstances.
Dorian gestured toward the cracked cathedral floor, where eldritch symbols still glowed faintly in the broken stone. "The ley lines beneath this sacred ground connect to containment sites across both kingdoms. I can feel the resonance as ancient bindings strain against powers that grow stronger with each passing hour."
I studied the glowing symbols, my enhanced perception allowing me to see patterns that would have been invisible before my transformation. The geometric arrangements seemed to pulse with their own rhythm, like a vast heartbeat counting down to some cosmic catastrophe.
"How many sites?" I asked.
"Seventeen major containment facilities, dozens of minor ones. Most were established during the early years of your kingdoms' founding, when the first Princesses of Skulls learned to imprison rather than destroy the entities they faced."
The scope of it was staggering. Both Shadowmere and Thornfield had been built unknowingly atop a network of magical prisons, each one containing something that could potentially destroy human civilization. And now those prisons were beginning to fail.
"What exactly are we talking about?" Kael asked, his assassin's pragmatism cutting through the mystical explanations. "Demons? Dragons? Something worse?"
Dorian's smile was cold and humorless. "Imagine beings for whom entire worlds are mere playthings.
Entities that existed before the first star ignited, that will persist long after the last sun dies. They view physical reality as we might view a painting—something to be altered or destroyed on a whim."
Through the Armor of Echoes, I could feel the truth of his words resonating in my bones. The ancestral memories confirmed what he was saying, showing me glimpses of previous encounters with such beings.
Each Princess of Skulls had faced at least one cosmic horror during her reign, and the battles had always come at a terrible cost.
"The good news," Dorian continued, "is that most of these entities are bound by rules we can understand and exploit. They cannot simply manifest in our reality without proper anchors—usually involving massive loss of life or the destruction of the seals that contain them."
"And the bad news?" Lord Cassius asked, though his expression suggested he already suspected the answer.
"The bad news is that someone has been systematically weakening those seals for years. Tonight's magical display was simply the final catalyst needed to begin large-scale containment failures."
The implications hit me like a physical blow. "You're saying this was planned. Someone wanted the seals to fail."
"Someone with access to the deepest secrets of both kingdoms, yes. Someone who understood exactly what combinations of magical forces would cause maximum disruption." Dorian's gaze swept across our assembled group. "Someone who has been feeding information to our enemies for years."
The accusation hung in the air like poison gas. I could see the suspicion immediately spring up between the various factions represented in the cathedral—Cassius's surviving soldiers eyeing Aldric's people, everyone casting sideways glances at potential traitors.
"Who?" I demanded, the Armor of Echoes amplifying my voice until it echoed off the vaulted ceiling like thunder.
"That," Dorian said with obvious satisfaction, "is what we need to determine. But I have some ideas."
Before he could elaborate, a new voice spoke from the cathedral entrance.
"How about we start with the obvious suspect?"
I turned to see Lydia Ravencrest walking through the ruined doors, flanked by a dozen armed guards wearing the colors of House Ravencrest. Her blonde hair was immaculate despite the chaos of the night, and her smile carried the kind of cold calculation I'd learned to associate with deadly political games.
"Hello, Seraphina," she said pleasantly. "I see you've been having quite an eventful evening."
Armor of Echoes hummed around me, its bone plates shifting and adjusting with each breath I took.
Through our soul-bond, I felt Aldric's growing concern. Not fear of me, exactly, but fear of what I was becoming. The memories I'd absorbed from the crystal vial were changing my perspective in ways that went beyond mere knowledge. I could feel myself becoming more distant from human concerns, more focused on cosmic threats than personal relationships.
"My queen," Sir Marcus said, his ghostly form flickering slightly as he approached. "The binding that sustains us grows weak. We cannot maintain corporeal form much longer without additional power."
I nodded, understanding the implication. The spectral knights had served their purpose in tonight's battle, but keeping them manifested was draining both Aldric and me beyond our limits. Soon, I would need to choose between maintaining our ghostly army or preserving our strength for whatever came next.
"Return to your rest," I told them. "You have served with honor tonight. When the true war begins, I will call upon you again."
The ancient knights saluted as one before fading back to the ethereal realm, their forms dissolving like morning mist. The cathedral felt strangely empty without their presence, despite being filled with living soldiers.
Lord Cassius rose slowly from his kneeling position, his face carefully neutral. "If what your teacher claims is true, then we have more immediate concerns than our kingdoms' political disputes."
"Indeed," Dorian agreed, his inhuman features still visible beneath his shifting glamour. "The seals that have protected this world for millennia are failing. What happened here tonight—the combination of life and death magic on such a scale—has accelerated their deterioration considerably."
"How can you be certain?" Aldric asked, his diplomatic training asserting itself even in these bizarre circumstances.
Dorian gestured toward the cracked cathedral floor, where eldritch symbols still glowed faintly in the broken stone. "The ley lines beneath this sacred ground connect to containment sites across both kingdoms. I can feel the resonance as ancient bindings strain against powers that grow stronger with each passing hour."
I studied the glowing symbols, my enhanced perception allowing me to see patterns that would have been invisible before my transformation. The geometric arrangements seemed to pulse with their own rhythm, like a vast heartbeat counting down to some cosmic catastrophe.
"How many sites?" I asked.
"Seventeen major containment facilities, dozens of minor ones. Most were established during the early years of your kingdoms' founding, when the first Princesses of Skulls learned to imprison rather than destroy the entities they faced."
The scope of it was staggering. Both Shadowmere and Thornfield had been built unknowingly atop a network of magical prisons, each one containing something that could potentially destroy human civilization. And now those prisons were beginning to fail.
"What exactly are we talking about?" Kael asked, his assassin's pragmatism cutting through the mystical explanations. "Demons? Dragons? Something worse?"
Dorian's smile was cold and humorless. "Imagine beings for whom entire worlds are mere playthings.
Entities that existed before the first star ignited, that will persist long after the last sun dies. They view physical reality as we might view a painting—something to be altered or destroyed on a whim."
Through the Armor of Echoes, I could feel the truth of his words resonating in my bones. The ancestral memories confirmed what he was saying, showing me glimpses of previous encounters with such beings.
Each Princess of Skulls had faced at least one cosmic horror during her reign, and the battles had always come at a terrible cost.
"The good news," Dorian continued, "is that most of these entities are bound by rules we can understand and exploit. They cannot simply manifest in our reality without proper anchors—usually involving massive loss of life or the destruction of the seals that contain them."
"And the bad news?" Lord Cassius asked, though his expression suggested he already suspected the answer.
"The bad news is that someone has been systematically weakening those seals for years. Tonight's magical display was simply the final catalyst needed to begin large-scale containment failures."
The implications hit me like a physical blow. "You're saying this was planned. Someone wanted the seals to fail."
"Someone with access to the deepest secrets of both kingdoms, yes. Someone who understood exactly what combinations of magical forces would cause maximum disruption." Dorian's gaze swept across our assembled group. "Someone who has been feeding information to our enemies for years."
The accusation hung in the air like poison gas. I could see the suspicion immediately spring up between the various factions represented in the cathedral—Cassius's surviving soldiers eyeing Aldric's people, everyone casting sideways glances at potential traitors.
"Who?" I demanded, the Armor of Echoes amplifying my voice until it echoed off the vaulted ceiling like thunder.
"That," Dorian said with obvious satisfaction, "is what we need to determine. But I have some ideas."
Before he could elaborate, a new voice spoke from the cathedral entrance.
"How about we start with the obvious suspect?"
I turned to see Lydia Ravencrest walking through the ruined doors, flanked by a dozen armed guards wearing the colors of House Ravencrest. Her blonde hair was immaculate despite the chaos of the night, and her smile carried the kind of cold calculation I'd learned to associate with deadly political games.
"Hello, Seraphina," she said pleasantly. "I see you've been having quite an eventful evening."
End of Princess Of The Skulls Chapter 46. Continue reading Chapter 47 or return to Princess Of The Skulls book page.