Chapter 529: Hidden Coffin
Silence returned to the office, but this ti it was heavier. As if the walls, silent witnesses to the revelation, had absorbed the growing tension between father and son.
Strax stared at his father. His golden eyes were darker, filled with conviction and mistrust.
“Well,” he said, low but firm. “There’s only one way to confirm it. Let’s go to her grave.”
Albert hesitated. For the first ti since they had t again, his eyes seed to lose focus. As if this was a step he never wanted to take. But the ti for denial was over.
He took a deep breath. “All right.”
Albert turned on his heel and headed for the door. Strax followed him in silence, his thoughts spinning like blades in his mind. The black sword on his back still throbbed slightly, as if reacting to what was to co.
They crossed the main hall of the mansion and followed the corridors on the west side, where few people walked. They passed portraits of ancient Vorahs—warriors, wizards, tyrants, and saviors. At the end of the corridor, a black oak door sealed with a magical lock blocked the way.
Albert stopped in front of it and closed his eyes for a mont. When he opened them, his fingers drew arcane symbols in the air—lines that glowed with a golden light and intertwined like celestial serpents. The seal emitted a crack, like an ancient sigh being released, and the door slowly opened with a deep creak.
On the other side was a moss-covered stone path. The sll of damp earth was strong, and the sounds of the forest invaded the passageway—a remote and forgotten area at the back of the property.
“She is buried here,” Albert said, almost in a whisper. “I asked that she not be disturbed. As she wished.”
“And why did you hide her?” Strax asked as they descended among the trees.
Albert stopped walking. He turned to his son, his expression restrained but heavy.
“Because she asked to. She said that if sothing went wrong, if the seal of the Garden ever weakened… she wanted to be far from the eyes of the gods. She wanted to be forgotten. Sealed in peace. She was still a dragon, even after death.”
Strax did not respond imdiately. He just walked beside his father toward the clearing that opened at the end of the trail. There, covered by a magical illusion of pure nature, was what appeared to be a simple stone altar surrounded by dark lilies.
Albert raised his hand again and drew one last symbol in the air. The ground shook slightly. The illusion fell away, like dry leaves in the wind, revealing the true tomb.
It was a modest structure, but one charged with power. A black marble sarcophagus covered with inscriptions in a forgotten language. Around it, four runic pillars maintained a magical barrier of containnt, and the ground around it was sprinkled with whitish ashes—traces of ancient spells.
Strax approached slowly, respectfully, but without hesitation.
“This is Scathach’s tomb,” Albert said. “I sealed it myself. With runes that only she and I knew.”
Strax did not respond. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He reached out his hand over the tomb. His fingers began to glow with a dark but refined energy—a combination of his draconic essence and the dark power he had inherited.
With a gesture, the runes on the pillars faded away.
The ground shook harder now. The roots around the tomb retracted, as if afraid of the energy emanating from it. And then, with a subtle pull of his hand, Strax lifted the entire sarcophagus from the ground. The earth opened, revealing an ancient stone base hidden beneath ters of soil and magic. Scathach’s coffin slowly erged, enveloped in a purple aura.
Albert took a step back, apprehensive.
“You shouldn’t do that…” he muttered. But he didn’t stop him.
The coffin now hovered a few inches above the ground. The tal of its structure seed not to have aged a single day. It was black, unmarked, except for a simple inscription on the lid: Scathach Antares.
Strax placed a hand on the lid. He took a deep breath. And opened it.
The sound was dry. A creak of ancient iron mingling with the sound of the wind in the trees.
But inside…
Nothing.
The coffin was empty.
The silence that followed was almost unbearable. The wind died down. The trees stopped moving. Even the birds stopped singing.
Albert stood still, perplexed. His eyes were wide open. His hands, once steady, were shaking.
“This… can’t be possible. I…” He knelt beside the grave. He stared into the coffin as if his mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing. “I put her here… I saw the body… She was dead. She was…”
Strax said nothing. He just stared into the void. His eyes showed no surprise. Only confirmation.
“You didn’t see,” he said at last. “You wanted to see. But you didn’t.”
Albert brought one hand to his head, his gaze lost. “The seal… maybe… maybe soone broke it…”
“No.” Strax shook his head. “The seal was intact. I checked every rune. No touch. No theft. She left on her own.”
Albert rose slowly, as if every muscle were heavier than before.
“That doesn’t make sense, Strax… I saw her die. The magic that killed her was irreversible. It was ancient. She used everything she had to protect you…”
“Maybe she didn’t use everything,” replied her son, without taking his eyes off the empty coffin. “Maybe she saved sothing. A piece of herself. Sothing that remained.”
Albert turned to him, finally understanding the gravity of it. “And you said you felt her aura in Caelum…”
Strax nodded slowly.
“Strong. Unstable. But alive. Like a burning ember in the middle of a field of ashes.”
Albert ran his hand over his face, exhausted. “So she’s alive… And she’s there.”
“Or sothing of her is. Perhaps part of her soul. Or her power.”
The Grand Duke stared at the horizon for long seconds, as if trying to reorganize his entire history. “This changes everything…”
“No,” Strax corrected. “It just reveals what has always been hidden.”
They remained there for a while longer, side by side. Not as father and son at war, but as two n facing a mystery too ancient to be understood imdiately.
The leaves began to move again. The world caught its breath.
Albert sighed. “If she’s in Caelum, then you need to find her. But if… if it’s not her…”
“I know,” Strax replied, finally closing the coffin. “I’ll know.”
He turned, ready to leave. But before taking his first step, he heard Albert’s voice once more, laden with sothing rare: regret.
“If I had known she was still alive… I would have done everything differently.”
Strax stopped. For a brief mont, he looked over his shoulder. His eyes shone with silent intensity. “ too.”
Strax turned and began walking back down the trail, without looking back. His steps were firm, decisive, and the earth seed to tremble slightly under the weight of his determination.
Albert stood still by the empty grave, like a statue marked by ti. The wind blew through the trees again, carrying with it the sll of freshly turned earth and the echo of a truth he had tried to hide for years.
“Are you really going to do this?” Albert asked, his voice laden with a mixture of exhaustion, fear, and, above all, broken hope. “Are you going to leave now… just like that?”
Strax stopped.
He didn’t turn around right away. He just stood there, silent, for a mont that seed to last an eternity. Then he finally turned, facing his father over his shoulder. His golden eyes burned like embers in the shade of the forest.
“If there’s even the slightest chance she’s alive, even if it’s just a fragnt, then I’m not going to waste a second.” His voice was low, firm, sharp as a blade about to be used. “She saved . She hid . She taught even though she was dead. She deserves to be found.”
Albert seed to shrink, as if each word struck an old wound. But Strax didn’t finish.
“And even if she’s not alive… even if all of this is an illusion…” — his eyes darkened even more, anger seeping into his voice like poison — “the dragons crossed a line when they attacked Xenovia. They almost killed her. And that is unacceptable.”
The surrounding forest responded with a crackling of branches, as if nature itself was disturbed by the ntion of violence.
Albert looked up, swallowing hard.
Strax took a step forward. “They dared to touch what is mine. They used my blood as an excuse for war. Now they will taste the weight of my na.”
He then turned completely, the shadow of the black sword on his back dancing with the movent.
“If my mother is not alive… if all that remains is hatred, then I will return it twofold. I will crush the entire Caelum if I have to.”
The words hung in the air like thunder about to strike.
Albert did not respond. There were no more argunts. Only a resigned silence.
“You’re going to let him leave like this.” Albert heard his sword spirit speaking inside him. Albert sighed and comnted, “Is it worth stopping him?”
“No… definitely not…” The spirit replied.
“Yeah, I thought so.”
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