NOVEL NEXT Chapter 7: Chapter-7
[January 24th, 1945]
[The Rusty Manor]
[Ritual Room]
"Take your men and evacuate. Our negligence led to this. I should have foreseen it. Escape through the tunnels," Adrian commanded, his voice filled with the weight of responsibility. Just then, a man entered the ritual room, his face pale and voice trembling as he handed Adrian a report on the attacking forces.
"I am already in your debt. And at such a crucial hour, you ask me to leave?" Cornelius protested fiercely. "It was my man who betrayed us. My mistake has put my granddaughter and my heir in grave danger. It is my responsibility to protect them," he declared, his voice rising with a fiery resolve. "I will fight. House Lannister will fight. Even if today is my last day, I will die fighting."
Adrian saw the unyielding determination in Cornelius's eyes. With a heavy sigh, he relented. "Very well, Cornelius. Your resolve is commendable, but we must act swiftly." Adrian gestured to his men, who immediately began coordinating with the Lannister troops, bolstering their defenses.
Reaching into his pocket, Adrian pulled out a ring, its surface smeared with his own blood. He channeled his will and magic into it, and the ring vibrated, glowing ominously. Suddenly, a small metallic cube materialized in his hand. The cube, worn and ancient, glowed faintly, exuding an aura of forgotten secrets and immense power that had been safeguarded for centuries.
Noticing the cube, Cornelius reached into his own pouch and produced a similar artifact, its edges weathered by time but still radiating an almost palpable energy. "This was passed down through our line by Artemis. I suppose yours is a relic of Despiona's?" Adrian remarked, his voice tinged with respect. Cornelius nodded solemnly, acknowledging the weight of their shared history.
With the gravity of their situation pressing down on them, Adrian moved to the center of the room, where Aryan stood, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. Adrian took out his wand and grasped Aryan's trembling hand.
With a precise, shallow cut, he allowed the boy's blood to flow, dripping onto the rings and pouches Adrian held. As he released Aryan's hand, Cornelius mirrored the act, their blood mingling in a powerful, ancient bond.
The rings and pouches glowed brightly, their light pulsating as they absorbed the power of the blood. Then, just as quickly, the glow dimmed, and both heads of house removed their relics, placing them into their Mokeskin pouches. With reverence and determination, they secured the pouches to Aryan's belt.
Adrian was suddenly approached by Sebastian, his chief of staff, who had successfully evacuated the non-combatants through the tunnels. Sebastian, ever ready to stand by Adrian's side, sought to assist in the final defense. But Adrian stopped him with a firm hand on his shoulder.
"Sebastian," Adrian began, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding them, "as leader of this house, I give you my final order. Protect everyone remaining in this room. You hold the key to our survival. Protect our house's future. Tell all those who wish to harm us that 'The North Remembers.' Tell them that Winter is coming for them, bringing the cold death they deserve."
Reluctantly, but moved by the unwavering resolve in Adrian's voice, Sebastian nodded, agreeing to the command. As Adrian turned to leave, the others followed suit, making their way out of the ritual room.
With a final, resolute gesture, Adrian sealed the heavy doors shut, trapping inside his son Markus, grandson Aryan, Joanna, Sebastian, and five Greenseers. The weight of the coming battle settled over them like a suffocating shroud.
Once the room was sealed, Markus and Sebastian took position by the door, their faces set with grim determination, ready to defend against any who dared breach their sanctum. The Greenseers gathered around the ritual circle, their expressions solemn as they knelt beside the intricate lines of ancient magic.
They began to chant, their voices low and resonant, each Greenseer slicing their hand to allow blood to fall into the circle. The ritual grew more intense with each passing moment, the circle's glow brightening until it filled the room with an almost blinding light.
As the magic took hold, the Greenseers' bodies began to wither, their blood being consumed by the ritual until they were nothing more than desiccated husks that crumbled into dust.
Joanna, clutching Aryan tightly, felt a surge of overwhelming power coursing through her body. She channeled this energy into her womb, nurturing her unborn child with the potent magic. Aryan, though scared, found solace in his mother's embrace, the warmth of the ritual magic enveloping them both.
[Outside]
On the grounds of the manor, the battle raged with a ferocity unmatched in recent memory. The air was thick with the smell of ozone and burnt wood as spells of every color streaked across the battlefield. In the center of this chaotic melee, two figures dueled with a deadly intensity. One was heavily wounded, his clothes torn and bloodied, while the other, Grindelwald, remained largely unscathed, his expression cold and calculating.
"You stand no chance against me. Why struggle so?" Grindelwald taunted, his voice dripping with condescension. "You are a formidable fighter, Reed. Even among my ranks, few could match your skill. Join me. I will welcome you with open arms. Serve me, and you will receive far more than you ever would in the service of the Starks."
Benjamin, his breath labored and eyes burning with defiance, sneered at the offer. "Loyalty and honor are concepts beyond your understanding, Grindelwald. The House of Reed has stood with the Starks for millennia, and we will continue to do so until the end of time. My loyalty is not for sale," he spat, his voice filled with unyielding resolve.
Even as he spoke, Benjamin's mind raced, searching for a way to escape and regroup. But before he could act, a sharp, searing pain erupted in his lower abdomen. Gasping, he looked down to see a deep, gaping wound.
The world seemed to slow as the realization of his mortal injury sank in. Before he could fully process it, a bright orange flash of light blinded him, and darkness claimed him as he collapsed to the ground.
Grindelwald observed the fallen warrior with a mixture of disdain and satisfaction. "You really are cunning, Briggs, for a coward," Grindelwald remarked, his voice cold as he turned to see Briggs standing behind the fallen Benjamin, his wand still extended.
"I've fulfilled my part of the bargain," Briggs said, his tone clipped and emotionless. "I provided you with the manor's location and disabled the wards. Now, I'll take my leave and return with my men after everyone here is dead." As he turned to leave, Briggs added with venom, "Make sure to leave no one alive, especially the Starks."
A sinister smile curled Grindelwald's lips as he watched Briggs retreat. But just as Grindelwald took a step forward, the ground beneath him erupted with a force that sent him stumbling back. Barely managing to land on his feet, he was immediately assailed by a barrage of fierce spells. The heads of the Stark and Lannister families had finally arrived, their combined power and fury unleashed upon the invaders.
[Half an Hour Later]
[Ritual Room]
After what felt like an eternity, the ritual circle's glow began to fade, signaling the completion of the ritual. Markus, immediately sensing the change, barked orders, "Prepare the domes for them!" as he rushed to Joanna and Aryan's side.
Both mother and child were barely conscious, their faces ashen from the exhausting ordeal. Markus quickly administered healing potions and blood-replenishing elixirs to them, his hands trembling slightly with worry.
Suddenly, the front door to the ritual room was blasted open with a thunderous explosion, sending shards of wood and stone flying across the room. Two figures emerged from the swirling dust and debris. Grindelwald, his left shoulder missing a chunk of flesh, blood seeping from the gruesome wound, and Vinda Rosier, though slightly less injured, with blood flowing from a head wound and a chunk missing from her right ear, stood in the doorway, their eyes burning with rage.
Grindelwald's gaze swept over the room, his expression darkening as he realized the ritual had been completed, and all the Greenseers had perished. His rage was palpable, a fury that seemed to crackle in the air around him.
"I had to sacrifice two-thirds of my forces and fifteen years of my lifespan just to reach this place," Grindelwald growled, his voice seething with anger.
He fixed his cold, piercing eyes on Markus and Aryan, his lips curling into a snarl. "I will not leave empty-handed! The Stark bloodline is said to be the most magical of all. Let's see how true that is after I drain you and your son of every last drop!"
The air in the ritual room grew thick with tension as Grindelwald raised his wand, ready to unleash his wrath. The final confrontation had begun, and the fate of House Stark now hung in the balance.