the timid bride

Chapter 25: The Serpent King's Whisper

The blood moon did not set.

It hovered like an eye over the land, casting the castle in a crimson glow. The stones seemed darker. The air thicker. Magic pulsed in every corner of the sky.

And Arin, standing on the wall with Rael's sword raised, felt something inside her stir.

Not fear.

But fire.

The Serpent King raised his staff, and the ground beneath the castle rumbled.

Rael stepped beside her. "They're not attacking yet."

"They're waiting for something," Arin replied.

The masked army stood still. Silent. Hundreds of bone-armored figures, unmoving like statues beneath the bleeding sky.

Then, one by one, they raised their heads.

And hissed.

The sound was not human. Not even close. It slithered through the air like venom, whispering through the cracks of the wall.

Arin felt the ring on her finger burn again.

She pulled it off and held it up.

The red gem in the center cracked down the middle.

Rael's eyes widened. "That ring belonged to the Queen. If it's breaking…"

"She was a vessel," Arin said. "For him. For this."

—

That night, Arin called a meeting in the war room — a chamber unused for over a decade.

Old maps lined the walls. Swords and shields hung like rusted ornaments. Dust blanketed the long table at the center.

Around it sat the few who remained: Rael, the priestesses, the captain of the guard, and the blacksmith's daughter.

"This isn't just a war," Arin said. "It's a reckoning. The curse is broken — but we've awoken something older, deeper. The Serpent King doesn't want the throne. He wants the **land**."

The older priestess nodded grimly. "He ruled before thrones existed. Before men wrote laws. His power is not built on politics — it's built on worship and fear."

Rael spoke next. "We need allies. Beyond the castle."

Arin looked at him. "You mean the outer kingdoms?"

Rael nodded. "Some still remember the old days. If we warn them, maybe they'll stand with us."

The blacksmith's daughter scoffed. "Or maybe they'll see a cursed crown and run."

"She's right," Arin said quietly. "We can't wait for help."

She unrolled the map.

"We have three days before the blood moon reaches its zenith. When it does, the Serpent King will cross the veil. If we can strike before then…"

The healer raised a brow. "Strike with what? We barely have fifty swords."

Arin's hand hovered over the mountain range on the map.

"There's something buried here. The Queen spoke of it once — a weapon forged from the bones of the first mirror."

Rael leaned in. "A shardblade?"

Arin nodded. "It's called *Vaelir*. The only weapon that ever wounded the Serpent King."

A heavy silence fell.

"Then we go get it," the blacksmith's daughter said.

Arin looked up. "It's not just guarded. It's hidden. And the path is cursed."

Rael smirked faintly. "When has that ever stopped you?"

—

They left that night.

Arin. Rael. The blacksmith's daughter, whose name she finally learned — **Kael**. And the younger priestess, who insisted on coming despite her shaking hands.

They rode under the blood moon's glare, across the silent plains, through forests that whispered as they passed.

Three hours in, the ground turned black beneath their horses' hooves.

"We're near," Rael said.

"How do you know?" Kael asked.

Rael pointed. "Because the trees are bending away from us."

The path narrowed. The horses refused to go further.

They dismounted and walked.

Soon, they reached a stone gate, half-buried in ash.

Symbols glowed faintly across its surface — ancient writing none of them could read.

Except Arin.

She stepped forward, her hand brushing the runes.

They burned cold under her fingers, but the words formed clearly in her mind.

> "To open the gate, offer your truth."

She glanced back. "It wants something from us. Not blood. Not magic. Something deeper."

Rael stepped beside her. "Say what you've never said."

Arin closed her eyes.

"I hated being chosen. I hated that my life was a cage made of silk and lies. I wanted to run. But part of me… also wanted to belong."

The gate shuddered.

Rael spoke next.

"I pretended to be in control. But I was a prisoner too. A prince chained to a throne I never asked for. I envied the rebels who died free."

The gate cracked.

Kael frowned. "This is ridiculous—"

But the younger priestess touched the stone and whispered, "I watched my sister burn and did nothing. I was afraid."

The gate split open with a roar.

Beyond it, a narrow tunnel spiraled down into darkness.

—

They entered.

The air was thick. Every step echoed.

Strange whispers followed them — voices of the dead. Brides. Kings. Lost children. Arin's hand gripped Rael's tightly.

At the bottom, in a chamber lit by glowing moss, they saw it.

**Vaelir.**

A sword forged from silver bones and mirror shards. It pulsed with a dull light, like a heartbeat.

Arin stepped forward.

The voices stopped.

She reached out — and the sword lifted from the stone and floated into her hand.

It was warm. Alive.

And then — a voice filled the chamber.

Not from the walls. Not from the past.

From *inside* her.

> "I see you, mirror-breaker."

Her knees buckled. Rael caught her.

Kael backed away, sword drawn.

"Who was that?" the priestess whispered.

Arin's eyes flickered silver.

"The Serpent King," she said. "He can speak through me."

Rael looked at her. "Then we need to get out of here. Now."

They ran.

Behind them, the chamber began to collapse.

Stone cracked. Shadows surged. The whispers screamed.

But Arin held the blade tightly — and it sang in her hand.

—

They reached the castle just before dawn.

The blood moon was closer now. Bigger. Almost touching the sky.

Arin stood on the steps, the blade in her hand glowing faintly. The guards looked at her with something new in their eyes.

Not pity.

Not doubt.

**Faith.**

She turned to them.

"Three days," she said. "That's all we have."

Kael stepped forward. "Then let's make them count."

—

Later that night, Arin stood alone in the Mirror Hall ruins.

The wind whispered through the broken glass.

And once again, she heard the Serpent King's voice inside her.

> "You can't win, Arin. The sword won't save you. You broke the curse, yes. But you also broke the seal. You opened the gate. And gates never close."

She gritted her teeth. "Then I'll burn what comes through it."

A chuckle. Deep. Ancient.

> "You are brave. But even brave girls break."

Arin raised the blade.

"Then let's see who breaks first."

—

The blood moon trembled.

And far beneath the earth, the Serpent King began to rise.