She felt a tug leading her down into the depths of the tomb, the faelight flickering in Gandriel's hand as he followed close behind, the steps leading them deep into the earth. The stagnant air wrapped around them like a feather-light cloth, the scent of decay and dust prominent in the air.
Celeste shuddered as she descended the steps one by one, the remnants of that presence still clinging to her very being, smearing it in inky blackness.
"What exactly," Celeste drew, a shiver dancing down her spine as she watched each step she took into the depths, her breath fogging in front of her, "are we looking for here?"
"I told you," Gandriel replied, his color having fully returned to his face, eyes scanning the darkness around them, "it's a powerful item that no one has seen in millennia."
"That doesn't answer the question," Celeste grumbled, another shiver racing up her spine as the tug from the depths grew stronger, "I'd like to know exactly what I'm risking myself for here." And to know exactly what I just unleashed, she added as an afterthought, though a bit limply.
"You'll see soon enough."
She suppressed a snarl, biting her lip to keep from snapping at the male. His inability to provide any information left Celeste with a sense of uneasiness, a sense that she was being lead blindly in the dark. He knows what he's doing, she tried to assure herself, though it felt weaker than she would have liked, Get through this then you can go and save Anelisse.
After what had felt like an eternal descent Celeste finally stepped off the last stair and into a vaulted catacomb, the arched ceiling reaching so high it was nearly undiscernible in the darkness. Rows and rows of tombs lay in parallel to one another, their golden surfaces polished and adorned with intricate patterns and jewels.
A resting place for something very important indeed.
"What in the Mother's name is this place?" Celeste breathed, taking in the intricate stone carvings that littered the walls, the vibrant paint having been preserved by either some luck or charm, depicting figures clothed in heavy armor fighting against what appeared to be non-corporal figures, figures that looked like shadow brought to life.
It set off an alarm in Celeste's mind, a voice telling her to remember, to listen.
"The dumping grounds for the remains of the dead," Gandriel replied cracking his neck before moving past Celeste between the sarcophagi, the faelight bouncing with each step he took and flickering off the polished gold of the caskets, "and a gold mine for the living."
Celeste sent him a disbelieving look, watching as he ran his hand over each of the golden sarcophagi, assessing.
He was going to sack the tomb.
"You can't be serious," She hissed, trotting after the casually strolling fae male, eyeballing the odds and ends of treasure and potential fortune around him, "I thought we were here for something specific. Messing with the graves of the dead is only going to bring us trouble." And we're in enough trouble as it is, she thought sourly.
Following behind Gandriel's casual, lazy steps she nimbly avoided brushing against any of the tombs, intent on avoiding getting cursed or disturbing something she intended to leave that honor to Gandriel. Squinting she tried to discern the words behind the ancient writings marking each surface. Likely names and titles, she mused to herself, dodging around a particularly large sarcophagus.
The room was covered in those strange circular markings that had flared to life beneath her palms on that monolith, each flowing seamlessly into the other as they stretched from floor to ceiling and across each of the caskets. Looking around her in awe she trailed slowly after Gandriel, her eyes roaming slowly over the carvings, memorizing.
The inky blackness that had accompanied that voice had nearly vanished, as though whisked away on a silent wind, no longer present in the tomb.
And, therefore, no longer leading.
"Relax," Gandriel rumbled after a few moments of looking about, glancing over his shoulder at Celeste, the faelight casting his face in pale shadows, "I'm not going to steal from the dead," he ran his hand over one of the golden lined sarcophagi, fingers settling on a large sapphire, nearly the size of a chickens egg, "though it's a waste of gold if you ask me. What use do the dead have for it anyway?"
She rolled her eyes; his foolishness knew no bounds.
"If you have time to roll your eyes," Gandriel replied dryly, his head cocked to the side as he watched her with that predatory stare, "then you have time to be looking."
"As you wish," she replied sarcastically, dipping her head in a curtsey, "lest we delay getting ourselves and our descendants cursed any longer."
He snorted, dismissing her and turn back to continue his wandering.
Useless prick.
She began searching through the rows and rows of tombs, beckoning for the tug to lead her to whatever Gandriel was looking for.
Nothing stood out.
She sighed, rubbing her face in exasperation before closing her eyes. Diving deep into that unused well she focused, tentatively throwing her energy out like a net, searching.
A sudden cold and brisk wind whipped through the catacomb sending Celeste's skirt and hair billowing. She let out a surprised gasp as she watched the wind blow the dust deep into the temple, a faelight flaring to life at the end of the row of tombs, casting the room in an eerie blue glow.
It had answered.
"That's totally normal," Gandriel shrilled, his hand wrapped so tightly around the faelight he was holding he nearly squished it, "Completely expected." He looked back at Celeste, something like fear dancing in his eyes, "The item is there."
His scent of terror was nearly suffocating.
Why had she followed him?
She tilted her head towards the now illuminated slab, indicating for him to lead the way. She watched as he pushed his shoulders back and began the trek through the array of sarcophagi, the gold glittering unnervingly as they moved.
Gandriel cleared the last of the distance to the slab illuminated by the faelight, nearly skittering across the floor as Celeste trailed closely behind as she glanced to and fro, watching. They both stopped in front of the stone bench, small in size compared to the tombs lying in front of it, its surface draped in what had once been a rich velvet cloth. On it lay an unremarkable metal object.
"That's it?" Gandriel said almost in disbelief, blinking at the object before him.
On the pewter slab in the center of the worn red cloth lay a slender curve of blackened metal, bent into a shallow crescent, with the ends folded over themselves. It was large, almost the size of a shortbow, but thin, barely the diameter of a coin.
"This is it?" Gandriel snorted, picking up the piece and turning it over in his hands. Relief flooded Celeste, whatever this item was it wasn't the source of that dreaded feeling of death that had permeated the tomb upon its opening. "I went to all this trouble for a sliver of metal?" He smacked it against his hand, it wobbled. "This isn't even good iron! What a waste."
"What was it supposed to be?" Celeste inquired, the hair on her neck prickling suddenly as she looked at the thin metal crescent; it was less than remarkable, something that appeared hastily crafted at best. It was an entirely unremarkable dull black and looked like something a blacksmith would use as scrap to melt and reforge.
Some mysterious item indeed.
"I don't know, but most certainly not this." Gandriel shook the metal, something like irritation overcoming his face, his lips pulling back from his teeth as he rattled the object in frustration, "That blasted map lied to me! How is this suppose to help me get out of that blood pact?"
"What do you mean you 'don't know'" Celeste replied, cutting a sharp look up at Gandriel, her violet eyes locking onto his sharp features, a boiling irritation bubbling beneath the surface of her skin, "…You had no idea what we were looking for in the first place, did you?"
Gandriel had enough sense to look almost sheepish at the question.
"Did you?" Celeste insisted, a growl building in her chest. Whatever Gandriel was looking for, he had had absolutely no idea what it even was, and Celeste was now inclined to think he had no idea what he was doing at all.
Dread tore through her as she looked at the piece of metal hanging limply in his hands. Whatever they had risked awakening by coming in here had been all over some item that the foolish prick didn't even know how to identify.
She reached for the metal in his hand, intent on shoving it down his throat.
"Give me that," she hissed, ripping the metal away from Gandriel's hand earning a grunt of annoyance as she pulled it away, "I'm going to wrap this so tightly around your neck you'll suffocate-"
"Hey! Don't go destroying ancient pieces of junk, I can still sell that-" Gandriel yelped, grabbing ahold of the metal and pulling against Celeste's grip on it. They yanked the piece of metal between them for several moments before Celeste finally pried it away from him.
The rustling of cloth echoed throughout the tomb, freezing the two to the spot.
The hair on Celeste's neck prickled higher this time, a chill racing down her arm.
Gandriel stepped back, goosebumps beginning to raise on his arms as he looked around him, searching for the source of that sound.
"What was that-?"
A skeletal hand punched up out of the ground, its spindly fingers grabbing Gandriel's leg.
He let out a shriek reminiscent of a screaming hare.
Too startled to think and acting purely on instinct, Celeste kicked out at the hand, smashing the bones to dust and freeing Gandriel's leg, the metal still gripped tightly in her hands. She frantically shoved it back into Gandriel's arms.
He flinched, fumbled with it, and shoved it back at her.
Celeste dodged, forcing him to keep the object as she turned her back to face the hundreds of rows of coffins that lay before her. All of which were vibrating.
"This may have been a bad idea." Gandriel muttered, his face gaunt, peering down in horror at the curve of metal gripped tightly in his palms, appearing as though he half expected it to turn into a snake and strike him.
Celeste swallowed a scream as hands and feet burst forth from all of the coffins, the ancient bones glistening like copper in the faint fae light bathing the room. In horror she watched as wights freed themselves from their bound prisons, the catacombs crumbling around them.
The faelight that had illuminated the pewter slab sputtered and the catacomb was plunged into utter darkness.
The first wight screamed, followed by a cascade of the others, their bones clanking as they rose from their graves.
Most definitely something that wasn't supposed to have been awoken.
Without thought Celeste grabbed Gandriel's wrist and bolted blindly through the darkness, back down the rows of tombs, hoping and praying to whatever deity would listen that they would not trip. Light suddenly flared to life, and Gandriel's revived faelight illuminated the path towards the stairs.
And illuminated all of the empty eyes of the wights, their attention entirely focused on the light and on the pair of living, breathing beings holding it. As if in unison the wights began scrambling from their beds and hurtled towards the fleeing pair, their focus entirely on them.
She'd kill Gandriel herself if they survived this.
Celeste artfully dodged around the skeletons, trying to not tangle herself in her dress as she jumped from side to side, avoiding the swiping of fae blades that had also been pulled free from the tombs by what she assumed were their previous wielders if their excellent aim was any indication.
Dodging out of the way of one well placed swipe, Celeste felt her legs entangle in her dress and toppled forward into the arms of a newly risen wight, a curved rapier hanging limply in its hands and a golden chain looped about its neck.
The skeleton grabbed Celeste by the front of her dress and lifted her skywards with uncanny strength, its empty eyes staring up as it angled its sword toward Celeste's stomach, its prize in hand as it unleashed a bloodcurdling scream of victory.
Terror tore through her veins as she flailed, trying to knock the creature's grip but to no avail. Noting the chain about its neck she grasped for it, the cool metal digging into her palm, and braced her feet against its hollow chest. She yanked, pulling the necklace free, but causing no harm to the wight.
She sucked in breath of undiluted fear when a sword suddenly cleaved between the skull of the wight and its vertebrae, tearing its head from its body with a sickening snap.
The ensuing scream sent waves of adrenaline coursing through her.
Gandriel caught her easily as he dropped the blade he'd used to decapitate the wight and tucked himself around her so they went rolling out of the way of flailing bones.
That voice, the one that always lingered, screamed.
RUN.
They both hit the base of the stairs with a resounding thud, Celeste's hands still wrapped around the golden chain. Celeste felt Gandriel's hands dig into the back of her dress, forcing her upright and in front of him as he shoved her up the stairs.
"MOVE!" He bellowed, pushing her ahead of him, his voice echoing loudly throughout the catacomb, above the scratching of the wights freeing themselves, the bellowing of damned souls brought to life and once again freed from the clutches of death.
Not wasting a second Celeste bolted up the stairs, her boots thudding against the steps as she took them two at a time, racing towards the surface and away from the bloodcurdling screams of the wights in the tomb below following after, their prey having narrowly escaped. Gandriel was at her heels.
They tore through the entrance of the tomb and raced across the entrance, feet skidding as they bounded around the black monolith and towards the path back to the boat. Celeste skid to a halt and threw an arm out to stop Gandriel.
From the mists wights began emerging, their hollowed eye holes locked on them as they encroached, hundreds upon hundreds rising as far as the eye could see. The moon above had dimmed nearly to darkness and Celeste felt the ground beneath her grow soft.
She glanced down, the grass darkening before her eyes. The smell of gore and decay assaulted her nose suddenly, stinging her nostrils. Blood was seeping up from the ground.
They were going to die here, Celeste was certain as she glanced around looking for any weapon, any line of defense—"Gandriel," she barked, glancing over her shoulder towards the male, "your storm magi-"
The spot where the male had been moments before was empty.
"Gandriel?" She whipped her head around frantically, before a glimmer of gold in the distance caught her eye. "GANDRIEL!"
He was racing down the path, dodging wights and flying over fallen stones. The spineless bastard had left her.
"You son of a bitch!" Growling in frustration Celeste turned towards the path and began racing behind the fleeing fae male, her teeth gritted, "So help me if I get my hands on you-"
Racing down the hill Celeste heard the clamoring of wights behind her giving chase, the rattling of their bones urging her to race faster. She watched as Gandriel half slid, half fell down the grassy bank and onto the beach, blood-soaked gravel and sand flying beneath his feet as he pounded towards the boat.
If he left her here . . . She shook her head driving the thoughts away, sucking in lungfuls of oxygen as she ran as fast as legs could carry her down the hillslope, he couldn't sail, couldn't leave this island without her.
And she'd haunt him for eternity if he did.
The wights were fast on her heels as she skidded down the slick slope towards the beach, blood splashing her boots and legs. Giving herself a wide birth, she launched herself over the array of boulders at the base of the bank and jumped down onto the beach, her knees cracking painfully as she landed, nearly colliding with Gandriel.
"What took you so long?!" Gandriel cried towards her, green tendrils of magic pushing the wights rising from the sea back, uncomfortably close to their one lifeline off the island.
"What took me so long?!" Celeste hissed, diving towards a branch of driftwood on the beach and lifting it to wield as a weapon, "You left me!"
"Left you? We weren't going to survive if we stayed there!" Thick tendrils of green energy burst forth from his hand, felling wights left and right. However where one fell two more rose in its place.
"And we stand a better chance of surviving here?" Celeste snarled back, lifting her less than adequate weapon in a defensive stance as she stood back to back with Gandriel, her heart thundering in her chest and raven locks clinging to her sweat drenched face.
If they could just fight their way to the boat-
A crack sounded and Celeste felt her stomach drop as she watched the wights descend on the dinghy, snapping its mast in two and shattering the hull.
"It's over," Gandriel breathed, his voice cracking as he stumbled back, watching as the wights surrounded them from all sides, their prey cornered, "we can't win this one."
Without warning he turned and shoved the piece of metal into Celeste's arms. Desperation flared through her at the thought of dying on a deserted cursed island with the king of fools as he wrapped his arms tightly around her.
"Are you seriously giving up just like that?" Celeste seethed, tears of frustration streaming down her face as she tried to pull free from Gandriel's grip, to try and at least protect them, to go down fighting—
A wall of green energy tore free and surrounded them, blocking the wights, buying them time, even if only for a few moments.
"Well if I'm going to die at least I'll get to die with a pretty woman in my arms," he said with a weak attempt at a smirk. Celeste couldn't even bring herself to bark her protest as she thought of Anelisse abandoned in Vanica with Lukas Pennington, with no one coming to save her.
She tried to swallow the fear of her impending doom when suddenly the world around her shifted and she felt the air around them vacate as they plummeted into shadow.
Several terrifying moments passed suspended in airless darkness before they went tumbling to the floor of a home, a loud crash sounding as they demolished a table on their way down.
Celeste lay shell shocked for a moment, the breath having escaped her, as she stared up at the wooden ceiling of a small apartment, the sound of crickets chirping outside.
Gandriel had winnowed them out.