Path of the Forsaken Sigil

Chapter 14

Bruce looked down at the floor where the bed had been. 

There was a heavy, square latch set into the stone. It was made of black metal and covered in thick, glowing red symbols. The symbols looked like angry eyes. They were pulsing with a hot, dangerous energy. 

"A blood-ward," Bruce said, staring at the red symbols. He could feel the heat coming off the latch. It felt like standing too close to a bonfire. "This is high-level magic. It is designed to burn anyone who touches it if they do not have the right blood."

"It is a pathetic lock," the Seraph said, stepping up beside Bruce. "Do you wish for me to break it, Master?"

"No," Bruce said. His eyes narrowed. "I need to save my strength, but I also need to learn how to use this new power. If I rely only on you, I will always be weak."

Bruce knelt down on the cold floor. He reached his right hand toward the heavy metal latch. The Brand of the Void on his shoulder began to ache. It was a good ache. It was the feeling of hunger. 

As Bruce's fingers got close to the red symbols, the magic reacted. The red eyes flared brightly. A wave of burning heat washed over Bruce's hand. It felt like sticking his hand into boiling water. 

Bruce gritted his teeth and pushed through the pain. He grabbed the cold black metal of the latch. 

The red symbols exploded with fire. But the fire did not burn Bruce's skin. Instead, the Brand of the Void opened its invisible mouth. The purple and white light of the brand flashed brightly. Bruce pulled the red magic straight into his arm. 

He felt the hot, angry energy rush up his arm and into his chest. His mana core grabbed the red magic, crushed it, and swallowed it. The burning heat instantly turned into a cool, refreshing wave of power. 

The red symbols on the latch flickered, turned gray, and faded away completely. The lock was broken. 

Bruce smiled a cold, hard smile. He was a Void-Born. The clan thought it meant he had no magic. They never realized it meant he could eat all magic. 

Bruce grabbed the handle and pulled the latch open. 

The heavy stone door swung upward on rusty hinges. A new tunnel was revealed. It was a hidden, spiraling stone staircase descending deep, deep into the earth. 

"Let's go," Bruce said. 

He stepped into the hole and began to walk down the stairs. The Ashen Seraph followed closely behind him, its giant body shifting like smoke to fit into the narrow spiral stairway. 

The descent felt endless. 

They walked round and round, going deeper and deeper beneath the Iron-Heart Estate. Bruce counted the steps. One hundred. Two hundred. Five hundred. 

As they walked, the atmosphere began to change drastically. 

Above ground, the Iron-Heart Estate was a place of extreme luxury. The floors were made of polished white marble. The walls were decorated with silk banners of red and silver. The air smelled of expensive flowers, roasted meats, and sweet perfumes. It was a place designed to show off the clan's wealth and power. 

But down here, that illusion was completely gone. 

The spiraling stone walls were rough and jagged. They were covered in a thick, slimy green moss that dripped with cold water. The air temperature dropped rapidly. With every step Bruce took, the air grew colder and colder. Soon, he could see his breath puffing out in white clouds. He was only wearing a thin, torn shirt and dirty pants, but the magic burning inside his chest kept him warm. 

The smell of the air changed, too. It was a terrible, sharp smell. 

"It smells like... lightning and blood," Bruce whispered. 

"You smell ozone and copper," the Seraph corrected him gently. The angel’s voice echoed softly in the narrow stairwell. "Ozone is the smell of raw, wild magic being burned away too fast. Copper is the smell of old blood, spilled to keep the magic burning. And beneath those two smells... there is the scent of despair."

Bruce inhaled deeply. The Seraph was right. There was a heavy, suffocating feeling in the air. It felt like walking into a room where someone had just died. The air itself felt sad and broken. 

"The Iron-Hearts are a rich clan," Bruce said as they continued down the never-ending spiral. "Why would they have a place like this? This stone... it doesn't match the castle above. The cuts on the walls look ancient."

"Because they did not build this place, Master," the Seraph explained. 

Bruce looked back over his shoulder. The Seraph’s silver bone mask glowed softly in the dark. "What do you mean?"

"Humans are arrogant creatures," the Seraph said. Its voice sounded like the rustling of old, dry pages in a forgotten book. "They build a house on top of a mountain, and they claim they created the mountain. The Iron-Heart Clan did not build these deep tunnels. They found them."

"Found them?" Bruce asked, stepping carefully on a slippery stone stair.