The laughter lingered long after the old councillor's body struck the floor.
It wasn't loud.
It didn't need to be.
It drifted through the ruined halls of the Citadel like smoke through broken stone, echoing from places where no living man should have been standing.
Veyra stepped beside me, her sword raised.
"Did you hear that?"
I nodded.
The answer was obvious.
Whoever had laughed wanted us to hear it.
The old councillor lay motionless between us and the darkness beyond. Blood seeped across the polished marble, filling ancient cracks that looked older than the kingdom itself.
I crouched beside him.
His hand still clutched a fragment of white cloth embroidered with the royal crest.
There was something written on it.
Not ink.
Blood.
FIRST GATE
The words were hurried, uneven, as though written by trembling hands moments before death.
"What does it mean?" Veyra asked.
I folded the cloth carefully and slipped it beneath my cloak.
"I don't know."
But I intended to find out.
A cold breeze swept through the corridor.
The torches lining the walls flickered, though no fire burned within them.
Instead, pale blue flames slowly came to life.
One by one.
Then another.
Then another.
The hallway illuminated itself.
Neither of us moved.
"It wants us to follow," Veyra whispered.
"I know."
"And we're actually going to?"
I looked into the endless corridor ahead.
"If Kaelen came this way..."
"I don't have a choice."
She sighed.
"You never do."
Together we stepped over the councillor's body.
The deeper we walked, the quieter the Citadel became.
Outside, an entire city burned.
Inside...
Silence ruled.
Our footsteps echoed through towering halls lined with cracked pillars and shattered statues of forgotten kings. Dust floated through shafts of orange light pouring in from broken windows high above.
Then I noticed something strange.
None of the destruction reached this corridor.
The walls were untouched.
No scorch marks.
No blood.
It was as though the fire itself had refused to enter.
My mask began to warm.
Not painfully.
Curiously.
Almost...
Recognizing something.
"You've gone pale," Veyra said.
"It's reacting."
"To what?"
"I don't know."
The answer came sooner than either of us expected.
We entered a circular chamber unlike anything else in the Citadel.
Its ceiling stretched high above us, disappearing into darkness.
Twelve enormous statues stood around the room, each carved from black stone.
Every statue wore a different face.
Kings.
Queens.
Warriors.
Children.
Yet each held the same object.
A blank porcelain mask.
The same shape as mine.
My breathing slowed.
"What is this place?"
Veyra turned slowly, studying each monument.
"I've served in this Citadel for twenty years."
"I've never seen this chamber."
Neither had I.
Yet...
It felt familiar.
As though my feet remembered the path even if my mind did not.
At the center of the chamber stood a massive circular seal carved into the floor.
Countless symbols spiraled toward its middle.
Most had faded with time.
One had not.
A dragon.
Not an ordinary dragon.
It possessed four immense wings spread toward the heavens.
Its tail circled itself, forming an endless ring.
The Four-Winged Dragon.
My heart skipped.
I had seen this symbol before.
Not with my eyes.
In dreams.
In fragments hidden behind the mask.
Veyra looked at me.
"Uriel..."
"You recognize it."
Before I could answer, the mask pulsed.
A blinding headache split through my skull.
The chamber vanished.
Fire.
White fire.
A dragon larger than mountains circled a sky filled with burning stars.
Below it stood thousands of people wearing porcelain masks.
They knelt.
Not in fear.
In reverence.
Someone stood before them.
His face remained hidden by light.
Yet his voice reached me clearly.
"Keep the Gates closed."
"No matter the cost."
The vision shattered.
I staggered backward, catching myself against one of the statues.
Veyra grabbed my arm.
"What happened?"
I struggled to steady my breathing.
"I remembered something."
"What?"
"I don't know."
The words frustrated me.
The memory had slipped away like water through my fingers.
Only one sentence remained.
Keep the Gates closed.
A sharp metallic sound echoed behind us.
Click.
Both of us spun.
The chamber doors had slammed shut.
Heavy stone ground against stone.
Dust rained from the ceiling.
"They've locked us in," Veyra said.
"No."
I stared toward the center seal.
"They've trapped us."
The blue flames surrounding the room suddenly burned brighter.
One by one, the statues began to move.
Stone fingers tightened around porcelain masks.
Ancient heads slowly turned toward us.
Grinding rock echoed through the chamber.
Veyra raised her sword immediately.
"Statues?"
I drew my blade.
"I've stopped asking questions."
The nearest guardian stepped from its pedestal.
Cracks spread across its stone body as centuries of dust fell away.
Behind its blank mask glowed two blue lights.
Eyes.
Then another guardian moved.
Then another.
Twelve.
Every one of them descended from its pedestal.
None carried weapons.
None needed them.
The first guardian extended an empty hand toward me.
Its voice sounded like rock breaking beneath the sea.
"Keeper..."
"Present..."
"The Mask."
The words echoed through the chamber.
The others repeated them.
"The Mask."
"The Mask."
"The Mask."
My own mask burned hotter.
Pain shot across my face.
Golden light escaped through its cracks.
The guardians stopped advancing.
Almost...
Hesitantly.
As though uncertain.
The nearest one tilted its head.
Its glowing eyes studied me.
Then it spoke again.
"...Incomplete."
The word rippled through the room.
Every guardian froze.
"Incomplete."
"Incomplete."
"Incomplete."
The chamber shook violently.
A deep rumble echoed beneath our feet.
The dragon seal in the center of the floor began to glow.
Not gold.
Not blue.
Crimson.
Thin lines of light spread outward like veins beneath stone.
The air grew heavy.
The mask screamed.
Not with words.
With terror.
A thunderous crack split the chamber.
The center of the dragon seal fractured.
A narrow fissure opened beneath it.
Darkness spilled upward.
Not shadow.
Something thicker.
Something alive.
The blue flames around the chamber extinguished instantly.
The guardians dropped to one knee.
Every one of them bowed toward the widening crack.
No longer toward me.
Toward whatever was rising.
A voice emerged from the darkness.
Ancient.
Calm.
Patient.
"The First Gate..."
A long silence followed.
Then the voice spoke my name.
"Welcome back..."
"...Uriel."