Tenebrae Astralis

Whispers in the Flame

The weight of the leather-bound journal pressed against my palms, its aged cover rough beneath my fingers. The firelight flickered, casting long shadows across the room, as if the walls themselves were watching. The whisper from earlier still echoed in my mind—soft yet chilling.

"Run"

A cold shiver ran down my spine.

I swallowed the unease creeping up my throat and turned my attention back to the journal. The ink on the first page had begun to shift, the letters almost writhing under the fire’s glow. At first, they were indecipherable—symbols I didn’t recognize, a lost language locked in time. But the longer I stared, the more the shapes twisted into something familiar.

As if they were meant for me.

I inhaled sharply as the words rearranged themselves, forming a single sentence in flawless Torment Paradise script:

"To the one who awakens the ember, beware—your past is not as buried as you believe."

Napaurong ako. My pulse spiked.

What the hell did that mean?

I flipped to the next page, pero bago ko pa mabasa, a gust of wind swept through the room, making the flames in the fireplace shudder. The heavy drapes billowed as if something unseen had passed through.

Then—

A soft knock.

My head snapped up.

Putek.

Muntik kunang mabitawan ang journal dahil sa gulat!

I stared at the door, heart hammering against my ribs. It wasn’t loud, not demanding—just a single, deliberate tap.

Who in their right mind would be visiting me this late?

I hesitated. I could pretend I was asleep. Ignore it. Pero alam kong hindi ko magagawa ‘yon—not with the way the air in the room had thickened, charged with something unspoken.

Slowly, I placed the journal down on my nightstand, my fingers still tingling from the energy humming beneath its cover.

Then, with measured steps, I crossed the room and reached for the doorknob.

With a slow exhale, I twisted it open.

And found myself staring into a pair of sharp, golden eyes.

Vladrik.

Nakapangalumbaba siya against the doorframe, his usual cold, unreadable expression in place. He wasn’t in his usual noble tuxedo—just a black silk shirt, slightly unbuttoned at the collar, sleeves pushed up, revealing the veins running down his forearms.

Napakagat ako sa inner cheek ko.

Damn him for looking so effortlessly good at this hour.

His gaze flickered past me, to the dimly lit room. “You haven’t slept.”

I raised a brow, leaning against the doorway. “Neither have you, Your Highness.”

Silence.

The hallway behind him was empty, the sconces lining the walls casting flickering gold light. He wasn’t standing too close, pero sapat para maramdaman ko ang presence niya—calm, steady, but laced with something… calculating.

It wasn’t concern.

It wasn’t curiosity.

It was assessment.