Chapter 4 The Hall of Remembrance

Aura's POV

“ My name is Xarion. Welcome to Sol Diminium”

“I figured” I said carelessly 

“Come,” he said softly. “You should see Sol Diminium before deciding you hate it entirely.”

“I already hate it.”

“That was quick.”

I folded my arms stubbornly.

“You attacked my village.”

His jaw tightened slightly at that, without another word, he turned and walked toward the corridor. After a moment, curiosity betrayed me again and I followed.

The halls beyond were enormous.

Black marble floors reflected silver chandelier light overhead. Massive portraits lined the walls, depicting pale nobles dressed in crimson and gold.

Everything felt elegant.

The deeper we walked into the citadel, the more unsettled I became.

No sunlight touched anything.

Not a single window stood uncovered.

Every corridor relied on candlelight or silver fire lanterns.

“Why is it so dark in here?” I asked finally.

Xarion stopped walking. he turned toward me and for the first time since meeting him, He had a bewildered look in his expression.

“What do you know about the Strigoi?” he asked quietly.

I frowned 

“Enough to know that they’re monsters and fear them.”

His gaze held mine 

“Fear,” he said , “let me guess, everything you know about my kind, you know from a story book about gods” he continued walking 

“Theres an entire page about your kind. So yes”

“ please don’t tell me you believe that garlic is our weakness”

“I’m not stupid, Ofcourse not , I was born in a coven”

“He turned around to face me abruptly that I walked straight into him. His scent of cedar layered with rich honey and Amber assaulted my nose 

“The citadel is veiled because we can’t survive long in the Sun, the silver candlelight helps with illumination without generating so much heat”

Wait what, that can’t be

“But I’ve heard of Vampires attacking  travelers in daylight” I countered

“ the Solis witches were able to create a spell that allows us move in the sun but the older the curse got, the weaker the spell and  now we barely last an hour under the sun”

I blinked, my mind racing at the possibility of the descendants of the Sun God not being able to last in the sun

“ how do you claim to be a witch and you don’t even know the simplest history of the supernatural”

I followed beside him through the endless black corridors of Sol Diminium, suddenly aware of how little I actually knew. Everything I’d ever learned about vampires came from stories told beside fires, stories made to frighten children into obeying curfews.

I need to find a way home and as soon as possible 

Silence stretched between us as we descended a curved obsidian staircase. The deeper we moved into the citadel, the colder the air became.

Eventually the corridor opened into the capital itself and for the first time since arriving in Sol Diminium, I saw it.

The city spread endlessly beneath dark skies like something carved from shadow and silver.

Towering buildings that were almost reaching the heavens. bridges connected massive structures suspended above narrow streets.

Silver lanterns glowed along balconies and rooftops like fallen stars.

And above all of it was the dark clouds that completely covered the sun.

Not natural clouds I could tell, they moved strangely, too thick. A witch’s handiwork

“They block the sunlight?” I asked looking up at the sky 

“Yes,” Xarion answered. “Created centuries ago by witches.”

The sky itself had been altered for them.

Gods.

Below us, the city moved with eerie elegance. So many vampires walked crowded streets draped in dark silks and silver jewelry. Merchants sold crimson fruits and strange glowing flowers. Music drifted softly from somewhere deeper in the capital. I expected the city to be monstrous but instead it looked  alive and Normal

That disturbed me more than anything else.

As we walked through the streets, people began noticing me or rather staring at me. Some seemed curious, suspicious. Almost cautious even just like

The same way my coven witches back home looked at me whenever spells failed around me.

A strange knot formed in my chest.

Familiarity.

I hated it.

Xarion noticed.

“You look uncomfortable.”

“Your people stare too much.”

A faint smirk touched his mouth.

“So do yours.”

I opened my mouth to argue then closed it again because he wasn’t wrong.

For a moment neither of us spoke.

Then unexpectedly, he asked:

“Tell me about yourself.”

I blinked.

“What?”

“You ask many questions for someone unwilling to answer any.”

“That’s because I’m the kidnapped one.”

“Taken unintentionally,” he corrected .

“That somehow sounds worse every time you say it.”

Another flicker of amusement crossed his face.

Gods, he did that too often.

I looked away quickly.

“There’s not much to tell,” I muttered finally. “ My name is Aura”

“Aura.. interesting “ he interrupted but I ignored him anyway 

“I grew up in Miridia with my guardian Sara and Elder Maevah, the one your kind so nicely attacked. I studied in the coven. Collected herbs. Learned spells.”

Half true.

Xarion glanced toward me.

“And?”

“I’m not exactly skilled in the art yet”

The streets gradually widened as we approached a massive structure near the center of the capital.

Unlike the rest of Sol Diminium’s dark towers, this building shimmered with silver-veined stone beneath the clouded sky.

“What is this place?” I asked.

“The Hall of Remembrance..”

Inside, the air smelled faintly of dust and candlewax.

The building was enormous, paintings towered across the walls from floor to ceiling, illuminated beneath silver lanterns.

The first painting depicted a woman draped in moonlight standing beneath a silver sky.

Lunara the moon goddess 

Even painted, she looked heartbreakingly beautiful.

Her silver hair flowed endlessly behind her while wolves formed from bleeding moonlight at her feet.

Opposite her stood a golden-eyed man crowned in sunlight.

Solis.

The Sun god.

Another painting showed the moment of betrayal.

Solis reaching toward a mortal queen while Lunara watched from the heavens above.

Grief painted across her face so vividly my chest tightened.

Then another painting showing the first vampire kneeling beneath darkness with blood covering his mouth.

Another showed wolves tearing through armies beneath silver moons.

Thousands of years of divine hatred captured in paint.

“It’s strange,” I said still staring at the painting

“What is?”

“These stories shaped entire kingdoms, Miridia too and yet I don’t know what is true and what isn’t”

Xarion looked toward the paintings in silence.

“True history rarely survives being passed down generations.”

He was right, every faction would tell the story in a way to make the war inevitable 

I turned toward him.

“What does any of this have to do with me?” I asked

For the first time since meeting him, Xarion looked genuinely surprised.

“I was hoping you’d tell me,that night in your village. You did something and I’ve never felt that way in my hundred years of living ”