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Vol. 2 Ch. 5 – Stone Cold Killer

  The hot springs had worked wonders for our collective mood. By the time we returned to my dorm room, even Isabella seemed more relaxed than I'd seen her in days. Bellas had retreated to the corner with a book—one of the many I'd purchased for him during our last shopping trip. I'd noticed he particularly enjoyed poetry, which struck me as oddly endearing.

  "So," Aria flopped onto my bed, her purple eyes gleaming with mischief, "what's on the Academy calendar this semester? Besides impending doom and political intrigue, I mean."

  I rolled my eyes but couldn't help smiling. "The Winter Solstice Ball is coming up in a few months. Professor Moira mentioned it in Seduction class last week."

  "Oh, that's right!" Aria clapped her hands together. "The ball is incredible. Last year, they transformed the entire Grand Hall into an ice palace. Not actual ice, of course—we're in Igneus, after all—but crystalline structures that looked like ice. The effect was stunning."

  Isabella nodded, settling gracefully into my desk chair. "House Lilitu usually hosts a pre-ball reception for select students. I imagine this year's festivities might be somewhat subdued given the current... situation."

  "There's also the Abyssal Arts Exhibition," I added, recalling the poster I'd seen in Professor Morrigan's classroom. "Apparently, senior students showcase magical innovations they've developed. Professor Morrigan hinted that attendance is mandatory for our class since we'll be expected to participate next year."

  "The exhibition is fascinating," Isabella confirmed. "Last year, a student created a mirror that shows not your reflection but your ideal self. Another developed a spell that temporarily grants the ability to taste colours."

  "Don't forget the Crimson Hunt!" Aria interjected, bouncing slightly on the mattress. "It's this amazing competition where teams track magical creatures through an enchanted labyrinth. The creatures aren't real—they're constructs—but the thrill is genuine."

  I tilted my head, intrigued. "That actually sounds fun."

  "It is! We should form a team—the three of us would be unstoppable." Aria's enthusiasm was infectious, as always.

  Isabella's expression softened as she watched us. After a moment, she sighed. "I should thank you both."

  "For what?" I asked.

  "For today. For dragging me away from my responsibilities." She smoothed an invisible wrinkle from her skirt. "I've been... preoccupied since Glakius's death. Mother has been in constant meetings, the house guards are on high alert, and everyone seems to be waiting for the other shoe to drop."

  "That's what friends are for," Aria said, uncharacteristically serious. "To remind you there's more to life than duty and family politics."

  Isabella nodded. "You made valid points at the springs. I won't abandon my responsibilities to House Lilitu, but perhaps a more measured approach is warranted. Mother has been handling these situations since before I was born. My eagerness to prove myself shouldn't override strategic patience."

  "Look at you, all grown up and reasonable," Aria teased, earning a rare smile from Isabella.

  "Don't get used to it," Isabella warned, though her tone remained light. "I still intend to offer my assistance where appropriate. But I'll be more... selective about when and how I insert myself into house matters."

  "That's all we ask," I said, relieved. The last thing I wanted was Isabella rushing headlong into danger out of some misplaced need to prove herself.

  A sudden puff of smoke materialised above my nightstand, coalescing into an elegant envelope sealed with crimson wax bearing my mother's insignia. The letter floated gently down to rest on the polished surface.

  Aria's eyes widened with delight. "Well, well, well... looks like the princess got another letter from mommy dearest."

  "Shush!" I hissed, feeling heat rise to my cheeks as I snatched the envelope. Isabella politely averted her gaze, but I could see the curiosity in her eyes.

  Breaking the seal, I unfolded the parchment, recognising my mother's elegant script immediately:

  I folded the letter, aware of Aria practically vibrating with curiosity beside me.

  "Well?" she demanded. "What does it say?"

  "Mother says the situation with Glakius is serious but under control. She and Father are personally intervening to prevent war." I deliberately omitted the part about my death—Aria knew, of course, but I didn't need her teasing me about my mother's omniscience.

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  Aria turned to Isabella with a triumphant grin. "See? No war after all! The King and Queen of Hell wouldn't let anything happen that might put their precious daughter in danger."

  Isabella smirked. "An interesting perspective on infernal politics—that the rulers of Hell make decisions based on parental concern rather than strategic necessity."

  "Why not both?" Aria countered.

  I grabbed a pillow and hurled it at her face. "Stop it!"

  As the pillow hit Aria square in the face, a small, ornate ring box materialised on my nightstand with a soft , accompanied by a folded note. The box was obsidian black with crimson filigree—mother's signature colours.

  "What's that?" Aria asked, tossing the pillow aside and leaning forward with undisguised curiosity.

  I picked up the note first, unfolding it to reveal my mother's elegant script:

  Short and cryptic—typical mother. I glanced at the box, then at my friends. Aria was practically bouncing with anticipation, while Isabella maintained her composed exterior. But I caught the slight tilt of her head, the barely perceptible narrowing of her ice-blue eyes. After months of friendship, I'd learned to read even Isabella's most subtle expressions.

  "Well, aren't you going to open it?" Aria prompted, nudging me with her elbow.

  I lifted the box's lid to reveal a silver ring with intricate engravings along its band. The design featured intertwined serpents whose ruby eyes seemed to catch the light with unnatural brilliance.

  "It's beautiful," Isabella observed quietly, "but knowing your mother, I suspect there's more to it than mere adornment."

  "Only one way to find out," I replied.

  I grabbed a black silk cloth from my dresser drawer and spread it on the floor, then held the ring over it. Closing my eyes, I focused on the ring's magical signature, sensing the pocket dimension within. With a gentle mental tug, I released the contents.

  Several objects materialised on the cloth: a palm-sized obsidian disc with flowing crimson inlays, a folded black silken garment, and a silver locket with swirling patterns that seemed to shift when I wasn't looking directly at them. Beside these items lay another note, more detailed than the first.

  I tossed the now-empty ring to Aria. "Here, you can keep this."

  Her eyes widened with delight as she caught it. "Are you serious? Do you have any idea how much these cost?" She slipped it onto her finger immediately, grinning. "I can finally carry my entire wardrobe with me wherever I go!"

  "Just what Hell needs—Aria with access to even more outfit changes," Isabella remarked dryly, though her lips curved into a small smile.

  I picked up the second note and read it aloud:

  "" I set down the note and picked up the obsidian disc. "She calls it the Abyssal Compass."

  "That's no ordinary compass," Isabella said, leaning forward with newfound interest. "The craftsmanship alone suggests ancient magic. May I?" She held out her hand.

  I passed her the compass, and she examined it with expert eyes. "This is remarkable. If I'm not mistaken, it's designed to point toward whatever the user most desires to find. Such items are exceedingly rare, even among the highest nobility."

  "There's more," I continued, picking up the black silk garment. "This one's for you, Isabella. Mother calls it the Chameleon Shroud."

  Isabella accepted the gift with visible surprise. "For me?"

  "The note says: "

  Isabella unfolded the shroud, which shimmered slightly as it caught the light. "This is... unexpected. A gift from the Queen of Hell herself." She ran her fingers over the fabric, which seemed to ripple at her touch. "Please convey my deepest gratitude to your mother."

  "And this last one's for you, Aria." I handed her the silver locket. "The Siren's Locket."

  Aria took it reverently, an unusual expression of awe replacing her typical exuberance. "What does the note say?"

  ""

  "Loving parents are practically unheard of in Hell," Isabella mused, still examining her shroud. "Yet your mother consistently defies expectations."

  Aria nodded, clutching her locket. "Mine certainly never sent me magical artefacts."

  I smiled, feeling a strange warmth spread through my chest. "I guess I'm lucky that way."

  * * *

  I was still admiring the Abyssal Compass when a piercing scream cut through the dormitory. The sound was raw, primal—not the playful kind that often echoed through Hell's halls.

  My eyes snapped up to meet Isabella's and Aria's. No words needed.

  "Let's go," I said, already moving toward the door.

  We rushed into the corridor, the magical gifts momentarily forgotten. Several other students had emerged from their rooms, faces showing mixtures of curiosity and annoyance at having their evening disturbed.

  "This way," Isabella said, her aristocratic composure never faltering even as we hurried toward the source of the commotion.

  We rounded the corner into the main hallway and stopped abruptly. A crowd had gathered, their whispers creating a hushed symphony of speculation.

  "Move," Isabella commanded, and the sea of demons parted instinctively before her authoritative tone.

  What we saw made even my demonic blood run cold.

  Valentina Morgenstern stood frozen in the middle of the hallway—literally frozen. Her body had been transformed to stone, her face locked in an expression of outrage, mouth open mid-shout. One arm was raised as if pointing accusingly at someone. But what drew my attention most was the object protruding from her back: a dagger with an ornate handle, its blade buried deep between her shoulder blades.

  "Is that...?" Aria whispered.

  "Valentina," I confirmed, staring at the statue. Despite our mutual dislike, seeing her like this was disturbing.

  The crowd's whispers grew louder:

  "—heard her yelling at someone—"

  "—just turned to stone right in front of—"

  "—wonder who finally had enough—"

  "What is going on here?" Professor Auriel's clear voice cut through the chatter as she pushed through the crowd. Her golden eyes widened slightly as she took in the scene. "Everyone, step back."

  She approached the statue cautiously, examining it without touching. Her gaze lingered on the dagger.

  "All of you, return to your dormitories immediately," she ordered as more faculty members arrived. "This area is now restricted."

  As we were ushered away by Professor Morrigan, I glanced back one last time at Valentina's stone form, a chill running through me despite Hell's perpetual heat.

  "What was that?" I asked once we were back in the relative privacy of the corridor leading to our rooms.

  Isabella's expression was grave. "A Gorgon curse, most likely."

  Aria and I exchanged confused glances.

  "A what now?" Aria asked.

  Isabella sighed, her patience for explaining demonic knowledge never quite exhausted. "A Gorgon curse. It's one way to disable a demon and prevent them from reforming if they're killed. The victim is turned to stone and remains conscious but completely immobile."

  "That sounds horrible," I said, imagining being trapped in stone, aware but unable to move.

  "It usually takes ages to break free naturally," Isabella continued. "But Valentina is lucky, in a way. As a pureblood from House Morgenstern, she should have enough soul coins to afford treatment. She'll probably be fine in a week or two."

  Aria rolled her eyes. "Don't give me hope only to shatter it in the next sentence."

  Despite myself, I smiled at Aria's comment, but my mind was already racing ahead. "Who would do this, though? And why?"

  Isabella shrugged elegantly. "Valentina has plenty of enemies, especially with her attitude. Perhaps some student found an opportunity to get back at her."

  "Let's hope that is the case," I muttered quietly, unable to shake the feeling that this wasn't just a case of petty revenge.

  The three of us stood in silence for a moment, the implications of what we'd witnessed settling over us like a heavy shroud. First an explosion in the administrative district, now this. Something was happening in Hell, and I couldn't help but wonder if these events were somehow connected.

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