The moment Isolde finished reading the final line of the prophecy, something inside her stilled. The words she read from the scroll reached into her heart and unsettled something that had been buried carefully for years.
She did not move at first, because she had in her mind that moving would make it real, and she was not entirely sure she was ready for that kind of reality.
The hidden archive stood around her in complete stillness, its silence stretching so deeply that the faint sound of her breathing echoed. Her hands loosened around the scroll as the realization hit deeply in her heart which kinda seems unable to hold.
"This… this isn't what we were told," she whispered, her voice barely more than breath.
The words lingered in the air a little longer, and she immediately regretted saying them aloud, because the silence of the room seemed to catch the words and kept echoing them in her ears. She swallowed slowly and glanced around as her mind kept settling on the realization.
"Oh, my eyes are playing tricks on me because I have not been sleeping well for the past few weeks", she thought, "I need to read this again". Then, she carefully lowered her gaze back to the scroll and read the lines again, slower this time, as she was finding it hard to accept the truth of the prophecy.
But it remained exactly the same. The prophecy on the scroll was clear and totally different from the story that had been passed down through generations of witches and all the other creatures.
Isolde let out a soft, breathless laugh that held more disbelief than humor.
"So," she said quietly, tilting her head slightly as she stared at the ink on the scroll, "either my entire ancestry has been repeating a very dramatic lie for centuries, or I have just walked into the most elaborate trap ever created."
She paused, then added under her breath, "And I am definitely not comfy with both situation" referring to the lie and the trap she had mentioned.
Her grip on the scroll then tightened slightly as she lifted her head and looked toward the entrance of the hidden archive.
The corridor beyond still remained empty. There were no guards coming for their next shifts. There were no footsteps and still no distant voices in the hallways.
"This place is never unguarded," she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else. "Never have I seen here with no guards; I am definitely fucked up."
"This place...." she realized "the royal archive and whatever this hidden place is"- referring to the hidden archive where the scroll is- "they are usually opened by pureblood vampires even common vampires cannot open here. How on earth did I open it", she wondered.
She shifted her weight slightly, her instincts beginning to stir uneasily beneath the surface of her thoughts.
Something about all this felt was screaming wrong. And yet her gaze drifted back to the scroll. "I think the oracle did this for other species to know the truth", she said unconsciously to herself"
"Yes! Yes!! Yes!!! It is definitely the oracle wanting to show us that there is still a way out of this horrible slavery system they called hierarchy", she said as the realization dawned on her.
"I must not fail them", she whispered to herself once again.
Then, a thought formed, slow and unwelcome. She knew the thoughts will lead her to trouble and it was at that moment her mischievous mindset kicked in making her to heed to those thoughts.
"If I leave this here," she said slowly with a small grin, thinking through each word as she spoke it, "then it stays hidden, and if it stays hidden, then nothing changes and nothing about the truth will be revealed to the world.".
"And if I take it," she continued, exhaling softly as she glanced toward the door again, "I will not even make it halfway down the corridor before someone notices, arrests me, and very politely executes me - the favorite hobby of vampires."
For a brief second, she stood there in silence, caught between caution, mischief, and curiosity. Then she smiled mischievously. "Well," she said quietly, "that is just inconvenient."
Her gaze dropped to her gown, and then slowly returned to the scroll in her hands. There was only one option left. It was reckless and dangerous which in her mischievous mind at the moment means the right one. She decided to use magic to copy the words of the scroll on her thigh.
Isolde took a steady breath and closed her eyes briefly. "Alright," she whispered, her voice soft but steady, "let us do something incredibly stupid."
When she opened her eyes again, there was a quiet determination and stupid bravery in them that had not been there before.
Her fingers brushed lightly over the surface of the scroll, careful and deliberate. Then, very quietly, she began to speak. The words of magic came slowly at first, slipping from her lips with a familiarity that felt both natural and forbidden at the same time. She felt totally refreshed and free when saying the words of magic to copy the words of the scroll on her thigh.
It had been years since she had used magic so openly. Years since she had allowed herself to feel it fully.
Then, a faint glow flickered beneath the fabric of her gown, subtle at first, barely noticeable, like a distant ember just beginning to catch.
Isolde's breath caught slightly as she felt it. "Alright," she murmured, half to reassure herself and half to keep from panicking, "here we go."
The glow grew stronger and warmer.
Then, a sudden, sharp heat spread across her inner lap, fast and intense, like fire pressed too close to the skin.
Isolde flinched violently, her hand shooting out to grab the edge of a nearby table for support. "Fuck, oh that burns, I absolutely did not expect the spell to be this hot", she hissed under her breath, her voice tightening as she clenched her teeth.
The sensation lasted only a few seconds but to her it felt much longer because of the burning sensation she felt on her thigh. It was also long enough for her to seriously reconsider every decision that had led her to this exact moment.
Then the glow started to fade and then stopped completely followed by the burning sensation on her thigh.
Isolde remained where she was for a moment, breathing carefully, waiting to see if anything else would happen.
Slowly, cautiously, she released her grip on the table and straightened. But nothing else happened.
"…Well," she said after a moment, her voice quieter now, "that was unpleasant." She glanced down at her gown, her expression shifting as realization settled in.
The prophecy was no longer just on the scroll. It was on her and into her skin.
She exhaled shakily and let out a small, incredulous laugh.
"I did it," she said softly, " and I am not undoing it any time now".
For one brief moment, despite everything, a flicker of pride crossed her face. It was reckless and mischievous, but it had worked.
And then, the air changed.
Isolde's expression dropped instantly as she noticed the shift in the atmosphere. "Oh no," she whispered.
Far above the archive, beyond stone and corridors and distance, someone had felt it because in the vampire region especially the Luminai accord buildings magic was never used (it was banned). If magic was ever used a little, the vampires in the building will sense it because of their great sense in everything and kill the culprit before the next morning light.
Her stomach sank. "They felt it", "Oh, they felt it," she muttered, already turning toward the exit. "Of course they did. Why would my stupid mind not reason things out?", "I'm doomed".
Her mind raced, calculating possibilities, outcomes, escape routes. None of them were particularly reassuring.
Without wasting another second, she moved quickly back to where she had found the scroll and placed it down exactly as it had been, careful to leave no sign that it had been disturbed.
Then she turned and ran with that kind of urgency that came from knowing that every second mattered and that somewhere, not very far away, people were already moving to find her.
And if they did, she would not get a second chance to see tomorrow.