It was dark. Not just the absence of light, but a wall of pitch-black emptiness that swallowed everything. The only thing Cesar and Lefelob could see—if it could be called seeing—was that suffocating veil of black. The air was damp, just enough to cling uncomfortably to the skin, a constant reminder of the place's unnatural stillness.
With one hand brushing against the cold, wet wall to his right, Lefelob moved forward. The moisture made him shudder—whether from revulsion or unease, he couldn't tell. All around them, silence pressed in, thick and unrelenting. Only the soft patter of distant drops breaking on stone hinted at any life. And their footsteps—each one a small defiance against that choking quiet—echoed too loud in the void.
"I can't see a damn thing... I can't even see my own hands, Lefelob..." came a voice—Cesar's—cutting through the darkness like a whispered blade.
He was on edge, and it showed. The darkness gnawed at him, clawing at his senses. His mind strained to shape a figure, a shadow, anything—but there was only black, and the helpless frustration it brought.
Lefelob, by contrast, seemed more composed. He moved with care, but not fear. His fingers brushed his coat pocket, feeling for something familiar.
"I should have a couple of small torches," he said, voice low and measured, his thoughts clearly more on the path ahead than the one behind.
A flicker of hope stirred in Cesar, just enough to slow the rising tide of panic.
Lefelob pulled out a torch and struck it with the only lighter he still owned.
"Ah... still alive, are you?" he muttered, watching the flame catch. He ran a thumb lightly across the lighter's surface, noting its worn edges with a silent nod.
The darkness retreated just a little, curling away from the flame like a living thing.
"Oh… finally," Cesar whispered, a breath of relief escaping his lips.
The faint torchlight was just enough to make out the path ahead—barely sufficient to move with some degree of safety. But even more importantly, it was enough to reveal what had, until then, been swallowed by the darkness.
A long corridor stretched out before them, branching into narrower hallways that disappeared to the left and right. Doors lined the stone walls, each marked with a faded number. The wood was decayed, warped by the relentless damp that infested the place—soft to the touch, as if rotting from within.
They pushed one open.
Inside, the blackness was complete, mirroring the corridor outside. Lefelob stepped in first, carefully—though not carefully enough to avoid bumping into something low and solid.
"Oh…" he murmured, surprised by the presence of a small bed.
He turned his head and caught the shape of a desk against the far wall.
"Looks like a room," Lefelob said, studying it with narrowed eyes.
Cesar moved closer, letting the dim torchlight sweep across the corners of the room. Dust hung in the air. The silence was oppressive.
Lefelob nodded slowly and stepped back into the corridor.
"Guard quarters," he said at last. "Used during their patrol shifts."
He paused, waiting for Cesar to say something. But the boy remained quiet, eyes flicking back toward the open doorway as if it might come alive.
"Come on," Lefelob said, already moving again. "This way."
They continued down the hall in silence. Minutes passed.
"…Is that a light?" Cesar finally asked, his voice low and cautious.
There was, indeed, a faint glow ahead. It leaked from beneath one of the doors further down the corridor—just enough to be seen.
"Stop," Lefelob whispered. He narrowed his eyes. "I think someone's in there."
His hand moved to the hilt of his sword.
"Stay here."
He moved forward slowly, every step measured, controlled. He strained his ears, listening for any hint of movement, any whisper of breath, any sound at all from the room beyond. Silence.
He advanced a little more. Still nothing.
Then, a single drop of water struck the floor nearby. It echoed louder than it should have, shattering the stillness.
Lefelob turned and signaled to Cesar, his hand cutting through the air in a sharp gesture.
Stay.
The tension was thick now—like a string drawn tight, ready to snap. A feeling crept in: whoever, or whatever, was behind that door… might be powerful.
But hesitation was dangerous.
With a deep breath, Lefelob steadied himself, raised his sword, and pushed the door open with force.
It swung wide.
Nothing. No enemy. No shadow creeping forward.
Just a small flashlight, already switched on, lying on the desk.
At last, the tension broke. That cursed breath—held far too long—could finally be exhaled.
Several seconds passed in silence. Both boys remained still, the weight of the moment lingering. The torch crackled softly in Lefelob's hand.
Then, finally, he spoke.
"Seems this floor is clear…"
Cesar gave a silent nod, but the questions gnawed at him—familiar, unwanted. They'd haunted him since they first stepped into the castle courtyard, and they hadn't stopped since.
Who was Lefelob, really?
How did he know so much about these strange castles?
And why had he come here in the first place?
Cesar parted his lips, ready to speak, to ask at least one of the questions—but nothing came out. He clenched his jaw instead.
"Not yet", he told himself.
The questions would have to wait. For now.
They pressed on. It wasn't long before the corridor led them to a large stone door, sealed tightly. Lefelob raised the torch, letting its light fall across the strange surface.
Embedded in the stone was a panel—metallic, worn, and strangely out of place.
"What the hell is that?" Cesar asked, his voice breaking the silence like a stone through glass.
Lefelob leaned in, inspecting it. His eyes narrowed as he traced the outline of the strange mechanism—some kind of keypad, ancient yet eerily precise. His finger hovered over it, then slowly touched one of the raised buttons.
He felt it give, ever so slightly.
"…A nine," he muttered, almost forgetting Cesar was beside him.
"A nine? And the other buttons, do they—?"
A sudden, jarring clang echoed through the corridor.
Lefelob froze, startled. Cesar flinched, cutting his words short as his heart jumped into his throat.
The sound had been high-pitched and final—like the press of a safe's hidden trigger.
Lefelob froze. His eyes locked on the keypad, but his mind had drifted far beyond it.
He wasn't listening for something specific—he didn't even know what he was waiting for. But still, he waited. Silent. Still. Expecting something.
Cesar took a cautious step forward, but Lefelob stopped him with a subtle motion, not even looking his way. He remained perfectly still, as if tuned to a frequency just beneath the surface of the world—one only he could hear.
Maybe it was instinct. Or maybe it was fear trying to speak before it was too late.
"…Why are there numbers on the wall?" Cesar finally asked, his voice uncertain.
"It feels like… like you need some kind of password. A code to get through." Lefelob's voice was low, distracted. His mind was already elsewhere.
In frustration, Cesar clenched his fist and struck the wall. The dull thud of knuckles on stone echoed faintly. He glanced around, eyes darting from shadow to shadow, desperate for anything—a clue, a marking, a mechanism—that could open the sealed path ahead.
Then came the sound.
Subtle at first, almost nothing. Then it returned, clearer this time.
A cough.
It rolled faintly through the corridor like a shiver in the air—deep, human, and real.
Not too close. But not far enough to feel safe.
Lefelob snapped toward the direction it came from, the torch's flame twitching with the sudden movement.
"There's someone," he whispered. "This time for real."
He turned his head halfway. "Cesar… stay here."
His voice carried an edge now—sharp, commanding, serious.
With quiet steps, Lefelob moved forward into the corridor, his breath growing heavier, shallower with every step. Each footfall seemed to echo louder than the last, as if the stone itself was waiting for something to break the silence.
That cough had been real. Not some illusion conjured by the dark. Not a trick of nerves.A person was down there. Hidden.Somewhere inside the winding maze of halls and doors and stone.
And that person might not know they were there yet.
Or worse…He, or she, did.
Lefelob's thoughts raced as he slipped deeper into the corridor.
Was it just one? Two? Ten? Were they simple guards… or something else entirely? He didn't know. But he would find out.
And the air grew colder.
[•••]
Cesar remained where he was—alone—swallowed by the dark.
Silence wrapped around him like a second skin, heavy and suffocating. Thoughts pressed in from all sides: questions he'd buried, fears he hadn't dared name. His heart pounded louder than his steps had minutes ago.
He felt eyes on him.
Too many.
Maybe it was just his mind. Maybe fear was weaving illusions in the shadows. But still, he stayed where he was, waiting for Lefelob to return.
"Oh…" he whispered under his breath, as if exhaling the weight of it all.
Footsteps broke the silence.
Fast, deliberate.
Lefelob?Or something else?One of the guards? Two?
Before his nerves could betray him, a voice cut through the darkness.
"Please… I have a wife and daughter… Please, don't kill me…"
A shape emerged from the shadows—first just a silhouette, then features. Lefelob.
He was dragging someone—a man—by the collar of his cloak, one hand gripping his throat with brutal precision.
A guard.
Cesar stepped back instinctively.
"Lefelob…?" he asked, voice laced with confusion and unease.
No answer. Lefelob's expression was unreadable. Cold. Focused. He let go of the guard's throat just long enough to draw his sword and press the blade to the man's neck.
"A wife and daughter, is it?" Lefelob muttered, his voice low and dangerous."Then you'll want to see them again. And if that's true… you already know what to do."
The guard hesitated. His hands trembled.
Then, slowly, he reached toward the keypad. His fingers danced across the buttons with a resigned familiarity.
~Click~.
The stone wall shuddered, then began to slide open with a deep, grinding rumble, revealing a stairway descending into blackness.
Cesar stared at Lefelob—still silent, still trying to understand who this man really was.
"Done… I did what you asked… Now let me go…" the guard stammered, his voice cracking.
Lefelob didn't respond. His eyes were fixed on the staircase ahead—wide stone steps branching upward toward the first floor, where deeper shadows waited.
The guard was still shaking. Not long ago, Lefelob had cornered him like a beast, and from the looks of it, he'd been the only one left patrolling the ground floor.
Then, at last, Lefelob turned back to him.
"Don't think your part is finished. If there are more doors like this one, you're going to open them. All of them."
The guard swallowed hard. "But… I don't… I don't know the others… I only knew this one," he whimpered. His voice crumbled into panic as tears welled in his eyes.
Lefelob turned his head slightly, eyes flicking toward Cesar with a glint of sarcasm.
"Do you believe him?" he asked, almost mocking.
Cesar didn't reply. His mouth was slightly open, breath caught in his throat. The scene unfolding before him was almost unreal—cold, brutal, deliberate.
He slowly shook his head.
Lefelob's gaze returned to the guard.
"I don't like liars," he said, flat and quiet.
The guard broke. Sobs wracked his body now, full and desperate.
"There's no use crying," Lefelob continued. "You'll come with us. You'll open the next door. After that, if you're lucky, you'll get to see that wife and daughter of yours again."
The guard nodded frantically, still weeping.
Without another word, Lefelob began climbing the stairs. His torch cast long shadows that danced along the stone walls. Cesar hesitated before following, still reeling. Each step felt heavy, not just with physical weight, but with the burden of everything he had just seen.
Step after step, higher and higher.
And still, the same question gnawed at him.
Halfway up, Cesar stopped.
His voice came out stronger than he expected, though there was fear underneath it. Fear—and something else. A need to understand.
"…Who are you really?"
Lefelob paused.
The guard's quiet sobbing echoed up the stairwell.
Cesar's voice didn't shake this time.
"Why did you come here? What are your real intentions?"
For a moment, Lefelob didn't answer. His head was lowered, as if the question had pulled him down into thought—or memory.
Then he spoke.
"…To destroy the Kormanys from within."
He turned slowly toward Cesar. His eyes were sharp, unreadable. There was pride in his face. And beneath it, a strange, quiet smile.
"To reveal the truths they've hidden from the world."
He stepped aside slightly, his torch flickering against the wall.
"And to do this… I need to get to that place..."
Cesar's breath caught in his chest.
Lefelob exhaled—and spoke the final word with calm, deliberate certainty.
"…The Vèiger."
Silence fell like a blade.
Cesar felt the blood drain from his face. The name echoed in his mind—The Vèiger. A word he hadn't heard in years, heavy with myth. With fear. And with something else.
A memory stirred. His grandfather's voice, late at night by the fire. That story… the one his grandfather used to tell in hushed tones by the fire. The one he'd dismissed as myth. Until now.
Could it be real?
Did the Vèiger truly exist?