The Dawn of Darkness || T. Riddle

Chapter 47: Veil of Despair

Chapter 47: Veil of Despair

Estela backed away from the cell, the image of her parents—transformed into something unrecognisable—burning behind her eyelids. A quiet vow flowed through her veins, a promise forged in the heart of her anguish. 

"Estela I'm-" Cressida started softly, but Estela stopped her mid-sentence as she unlocked the cell door with a wave of her wand, her gaze still fixed on the floor by her feet.

"Get out of here," Estela said, her voice grave. "Your passage should be clear for a few minutes. Follow the staff corridor - that's the narrow one. Take three left turns, then head straight until you feel the air shift. That's your path to freedom. Keep away from the dining chamber. If you hear music, you've gotten too close. You may not have your wand, but you have your wits. Get to the border of the complex and apparate back to Malfoy Manor."

"I need to find Abraxas," Cressida said firmly, despite the order.

Estela's gaze didn't budge. "Your presence will only make him falter should anything go wrong. Abraxas will be fine. Get back to the Manor." She knew that Cressida wanted to protest, that she was considering disobeying Estela's orders and going to find Abraxas anyway.

"Peace talks are over," she said severely. "I won't have your blood on my hands. Get out of here before it's too late."

For a moment, the weight of Estela's words seemed to hover between them, challenging, probing. Then, softening slightly but still holding onto her inherent dignity, Cressida responded with a reluctant nod, the sharp edges of her usual indifference dulled by the seriousness of Estela's warning.

"Let Abraxas know I'm safe, will you?" Cressida's tone was laced with a mixture of concern and a certain rueful acknowledgement of their situation. "And tell him... the reason I'm not staying is because I have absolute faith in him. I won't be there to cloud his judgment or slow him down. He needs to know that."

And without a further word, Cressida turned on her heel and darted out of the cells as Estela watched her vanish into the complex's glowing labyrinth.

Estela lingered near Grace and William's cell. For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Sorrow clutched at her heart with a despair so profound it threatened to consume her. The people who had given her so much, who had nurtured her with love and wisdom, now looked through her as if she were a stranger. The realisation was a dagger to her soul, sharp and merciless.

Silently, she reached out, her fingertips brushing the cold, unyielding bars of the cell. It was a futile gesture, an attempt to bridge the vast, insurmountable distance Cassandra's magic had created between them. Yet, in that touch, lay her silent vow of vengeance, her promise of retribution.

"I'll fix this," she just about managed to tell them. They didn't even blink at the sound of her voice. "I'll fix whatever curse she's got you under. I'll get you both back."

Estela's gaze held them, memorising every detail—the way the light cast shadows over their faces, the unnatural stillness that clung to their forms, a stark contrast to the vibrant people Estela knew. Even in this twisted state, under the cruel hand of Cassandra's spell, there was a haunting familiarity to them, a reminder of all that had been stolen, all that Estela was fighting for. They lay still, their expressions vacant, a stark, haunting reminder of all that had happened over the past few months and where it had led her.

With a final, lingering look, she withdrew her hand, turning away from the bars. From her parents. Each step she took away from them felt like a betrayal, yet she knew there was no other path forward. The weight of what had happened settled around her like a chain, heavy and suffocating, as she made her way out of the cells.