Page 73 of Potion of Deception (Potion of Deception #1)
THE GROTTO OF SPELLS AND RELICS
A veil of snow covered the graves and stone slabs. A crow on one of the openwork crosses croaked, watching Violette and Dante making their way to the big arched cave.
Violette's gaze investigated the space, while the snow was smoothly falling onto her eyelashes and covering her shoulders. She shook the powder from her front curls, the cold made her cheeks rosy, the air was tingling her throat.
As their steps led them to the wide low staircases, she lifted her head – a big cave was towering over them, the archway gates decorated with runes along its curve.
Its engraved symbols were telling a story; who knows what it was about, was it a warning, a prophecy.
One thing was clear, it was the entrance to The Grotto of Spells and Relics.
Dante raised his head toward the night sky – its deep darkness started to fade to a light blue. His eyes measured the door and then his palm reached for a hole in it.
Five symbols on the gates were connected with each other, spreading wavy threads leading to the recess in the center – the perfect shape for a gem.
Violette handed Dante the moonstone, its glimmering reflected in his eyes.
He exhaled a deep breath in the air, drawing Violette's glance.
There it is – the moment of truth. Dante placed the shiny stone centered on the dark gates.
It fell inside, twinkling, and then the ancient runes on the columns on both sides lit up with a silver blue light.
The old gate opened followed by the centuries-old sound, shattering the peace inside.
A thin layer of snow in front of them rose and then smoothly fell to the ground again.
Violette and Dante shared a look and then eyed into the depths of the grotto.
The golden flecks flew by Violette's eyes as they stepped in. The sparkles lingered on her extended palm for a couple of seconds before quickly disappearing as if they'd never existed.
“What is it?” Her head tipped to the white flowers hanging from the aisle, showering them in a gold dust.
Dante rubbed the dust particles between his fingers.
“Ugh. A dust that blocks magic.” His brows wrinkled.
“Didn't know such a thing exists,” Violette blew in amazement.
She had heard of spells that could take magic away or protect a place from it, but they required to be spoken out loud, not to mention exceptional skill.
Once she came across a potion that could increase some magic skills at the expense of others, thus improving defensive spells for a while in exchange for attacking but to take them away completely? It was something new.
“It's not an extremely rare thing on this land; some people use this dust for protection,” Dante commented and it seemed as if he was thinking about something else but didn't voice it .
A long stone corridor led them inside the grotto, to a spacey hall.
The sharp facets of the walls with adorned rock pillars were sparkling in the flickering silver torchlights.
Inside looked exactly like a regular cavern but filled with many different magic things and heaps of white crystals glimmering under the cold blue light.
Violette was fascinatedly absorbing everything with her eyes, her inquisitiveness rejoiced with all those interesting and exceptional relics surrounding her.
Her eyes fell onto an emerald glass plate with bronze coins carelessly scattered – or it wasn't coins?
On the other side, a whimsical hat rack decorated with flower vines, she noted that she'd gladly have one of these in her house.
A few steps further – a clear glass case with a sword whose beautiful gold hilt was encrusted with red garnets and brown smoky quartz; capital letters fickly glittered on the silver blade.
A sudden gasp left Violette’s mouth as she almost cracked into the stoic figure of a knight. Her eyes stared at his adorned gauntlets, fascinated by the magnificent work, before her attention was taken away by a beautiful pellucid silver veil in the corner.
Meanwhile, Dante passed by a big splendid hourglass with curved handles on the sides, though it didn't draw his attention – he didn't care about anything in this room. The only thing he was looking for was a key to his freedom, everything else – just unnecessary trinkets .
He stopped in front of a stone pedestal with a dark blue varnished chest. Two swords crossing each other with a blue chiffon flower blossoming in the center – the coat of arms of Desensisfort Kingdom.
Violette snuggled her hands to her chest, noticing how he quieted down. She trod steps forward as his words, “Found it”, caught her hearing.
Her eyes fell on Dante's fingers lifting the lid and revealing a pair of dark brown leather gloves. He slipped a hand in one of those – the ornamented garment with each finger covered in tracery, a big star sign on the palm sparkled with silver hue. Then another one.
His gaze dropped to his gloved hands. A line drew between his brows, then he glanced at Violette next to him. In this silent plea she understood he wanted some space.
She increased the distance, deciding to keep herself busy with something else and thankfully, there were plenty of things to investigate.
Her eyes traced to the veil she saw a few minutes ago, indeed a magnificent thing – a transparent piece of fabric powdered with silver-blue sparkles over the faceless female bust. She tried to find something that would explain what she was looking at but it had no signature or note.
Her fingers brushed over the soft veil and then her betraying curiosity made her glance at Dante – his fingers reached to the clasp of the mask. Her eyes darted away to something else – a beautiful hourglass with blue sand in it. The surface was embossed with silver lettering:
Break to fix your past mistakes.
A deep exhale released into the air. Violette rushed her eyes to Dante again – his shoulders shuddered, his jaw clicked.
Her attention was fully shifted to him, her burning prying couldn’t hold itself back anymore.
No relic was as important as that precise moment, especially for Dante.
After so many years to finally feel free.
And Violette – she was wondering what hides behind this mask from the moment they met.
How unusual it would be to see his mouth, his lips, not covered in the shadows of the hideous bars.
Dante’s hands freed from the gloves as his head slightly bent down.
She made a flimsy step forward, her hand running along the cold surface of the stone table with raw corners.
In a flash moment a corrosive pain pierced her palm – crimson sparkled in the blue light, dripping down to the ground.
A quiet hiss escaped Violette’s throat as she squeezed her hand in a fist against her chest. The acrid metallic scent flashed under her nose, she looked down, unclenching the fist – the cut wasn't deep, a tingling sensation pulsating under the skin.
Her eyes raised as Dante slightly turned his head, standing with his back to her.
In the dim light she saw a silhouette of his face, all of it.
The mask disappeared. His eyes finally flickered at her as she squeezed her palm again. A muscle in his jaw wavered.
The curiosity lit up Violette before it dimmed too soon. In an instant, Dante arose right in front of her – a strange…frantic look on his face. She didn’t even have time to scrutinize his features as the agonizing pain struck her.