Chapter 4: Whispers Beneath the Stone
The air in the catacombs thickened with every step Ishaani took, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. The faint glow ahead pulsed like a heartbeat, its rhythm too deliberate, too alive. Ishaani's skin tingled with unease, her instincts sharpening. Something—or someone—was down here, waiting.
The letter’s cryptic warning echoed in her mind: Trust no one.
Her fingers brushed against the stone wall as she advanced cautiously. The coldness seeped into her skin, reminding her of the frigid reality she now faced—alone, without allies. Even her instincts betrayed her at times, tangled in the confusion of memories that never felt entirely hers.
Suddenly, a sharp, metallic clang reverberated through the tunnel behind her. Ishaani whipped around, her heart leaping into her throat. Her breath caught in the icy air, but nothing moved. Silence.
She swallowed hard, her pulse throbbing in her ears. She couldn’t shake the feeling of eyes upon her, watching from the shadows. The catacombs weren’t just tunnels—they were alive with secrets, and she was stepping right into their trap.
She turned back to the soft glow ahead, now barely visible around a sharp corner. With measured steps, she moved closer, her body tensed like a coiled spring, ready to snap at the first sign of danger. As she rounded the corner, her eyes widened.
There, standing before an old, crumbling altar, was a figure cloaked in black. The figure’s back was turned to her, hooded and unnervingly still. A single candle flickered in their hand, casting long, eerie shadows on the damp stone walls.
Ishaani’s breath hitched. Her mind raced—who could this be? Was this the one who left her the letter, or was it a trap she had blindly walked into?
As if sensing her presence, the figure tilted their head slightly, the movement slow and deliberate. Then, without turning, they spoke—a voice as cold and smooth as silk.
“You’ve come,” the figure murmured, their tone neither malevolent nor kind. Just... inevitable. “I knew you would.”
Ishaani’s body tensed. “Who are you?” Her voice was sharper than she intended, slicing through the tension like a blade.
The figure remained motionless for a heartbeat too long before finally turning around. Beneath the hood was a face partially hidden by shadows, but Ishaani could make out piercing eyes that gleamed in the dim light, studying her with unsettling intensity.
“You’ve been searching for answers, haven’t you?” The voice now carried a dangerous edge, and the figure stepped closer, causing Ishaani’s hand to instinctively tighten around the key in her palm. “But the truth, princess, comes at a price.”
The word princess twisted like a knife in her gut, the weight of it crashing into her chest. How do they know?
“I’m not—”
“Lies,” the figure hissed, cutting her off. “You’ve lived in them your entire life. But you cannot run from your destiny any longer.”
Ishaani’s heart pounded as the figure reached out, revealing something cradled in their hand—a ring, ornate and ancient, its gem glowing faintly like the candlelight. Her eyes locked on it, and in that instant, a rush of memories she couldn’t place surged through her mind: a grand throne, a kingdom in ruins, blood-soaked hands... her own.
“Your birthright,” the figure whispered, their voice slipping into a low, seductive murmur. “Claim it... or lose everything.”
Ishaani staggered back, her mind reeling. “What do you want from me?”
A slow, chilling smile crept across the figure’s lips. “Only to see the crown returned to its rightful owner. But know this—every choice you make from now on will lead you closer to the truth... or your destruction.”
Ishaani’s throat tightened. The air crackled with energy, an unseen force pulling her closer to the ring, to the dark promise it held. She could feel the walls of her reality crumbling, the truth she so desperately sought dancing just beyond her reach, cloaked in shadow and danger.
The figure’s eyes gleamed as they spoke one last time, their voice dripping with anticipation.
“Time is running out, Ishaani. The crown is yours... if you’re brave enough to take it.”
The candle flickered, casting the chamber into darkness. When the light returned, the figure was gone—leaving only the ring, and a question burning deep within her soul.
YOU ARE READING
The Lost Crown.
Teen FictionIn a world where tradition reigns supreme, to Ishaani finds herself on the brink of an arranged marriage that could bind her to a life she never chose. As the vibrant wedding festivities unfold around her, she is torn between familial duty and her d...
