More uncomfortable silence. A few candidates exchanged confused glances.
"It means," Kain said slowly, enunciating each word like he was speaking to children, "that he was born to be an executioner. Destined for it by fate itself. The blades recognize him before he even lays eyes on them. And you—"
He gestured dismissively at the other candidates with a sweep of his armored hand. "You're lucky to be in his presence. You should be grateful to witness this. Can you even hear a single voice? Not one blade calls to any of you, even when you'll be standing right next to them."
Marius's face turned deep red with rage, his fists clenching so hard his knuckles went white. But he said nothing. Even he knew better than to challenge Kain's authority directly.
Cedric helped me to my feet, his grip steady and strong. "The voices will only get worse once we enter the vault. You need to learn how to block them out, or you'll be useless to yourself and everyone else."
"How?" The pain was still there, still throbbing behind my eyes like a worm trying to claw its way out. "How do I make them stop?"
Cedric didn't answer immediately. Instead, he held up his right hand in front of my face, showing me his thumb. His weathered hand was scarred and calloused from decades of combat.
Then, without hesitation, he grabbed his thumb with his other hand and snapped it backward with brutal efficiency.
The crack echoed like a gunshot in the confined space. His thumb bent at a completely unnatural angle, the bone clearly broken, displaced beneath the skin.
Several candidates gasped in shock and horror. One girl, Helena, I think, looked like she might be sick, her hand flying to her mouth. Another candidate turned away entirely.
Cedric's expression didn't change at all. His weathered face remained completely calm, almost serene, as if he hadn't just deliberately broken his own bone.
"Pain is the one thing that will never go away. Pain is your friend in your darkest fears. When the voices become too much, when your mind threatens to break under the weight of them, when madness reaches for you, pain will anchor you. It will give you something real to focus on. Something that will never betray you."
He released his broken thumb, and I watched it hang limply at an unnatural angle. Blood pooled under the skin, already beginning to turn a deep purple-black. "Your turn, boy."
I stared at him, my mind still reeling from the casual brutality of what he'd just done. "You want me to break my own finger?"
"Unless you want to collapse again the moment we enter the vault and embarrass yourself in front of everyone here. The voices will be ten times worse in there. A hundred times worse. If you can't handle them now, you won't make it three steps inside."
The voices were still there, still hammering against my skull like pickaxes against stone. Demanding attention. Promising power. Growing louder with each passing second, building toward another crescendo that would drive me to my knees again.
Choose me!
I am worthy!
Bond with me!
Take my power!
I will serve you!
You are meant for greatness!
I didn't hesitate.
I grabbed my right index finger with my left hand, took a deep breath, and snapped it backward with all the force I could muster.
The bone broke with a sickening crack that I felt as much as heard.
White-hot pain shot up my arm like lightning. My vision whited out for a second from the intensity.
But it worked.
The voices didn't disappear. They were still there, still calling to me. But they faded into the background like someone had turned down the volume on a radio.
The pain in my finger gave me something to focus on. Something tangible and physical that cut through the chaos in my head like a knife through fog.
I could think again. I could breathe.
"Good," Cedric said, nodding with approval. He didn't heal his own broken thumb, I noticed. Just let it hang there.
"Keep that pain fresh in your mind. Don't let it fade. Use it to stay grounded. Pain doesn't lie to you like power does."
He turned and continued down the stairway. The rest of us followed, my broken finger throbbing with each step, each pulse of pain keeping the voices at bay.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, we reached the bottom.
A massive iron door stood before us, easily twelve feet tall and eight feet wide. It was covered in runes that glowed with soft blue light, the same type I'd seen on the sunlight chamber, but far more intricate.
Far more powerful. These runes were layered on top of each other, creating patterns within patterns, as well as spirals and geometric shapes. The magic radiating from them made my skin tingle.
Cedric placed his hand flat against the door's center, and the runes flared brighter, pulsing like a heartbeat. The door swung open silently despite its massive weight, revealing the vault beyond.
The chamber was enormous. Easily fifty feet across and just as deep, with a vaulted ceiling that disappeared into shadow high above.
Torches lined the walls at regular intervals, their flames casting dancing shadows across the space that made everything seem to move and shift.
And the blades. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
They lined every wall. Mounted on simple iron brackets, gleaming in the torchlight like stars.
Longswords, greatswords, shortswords, daggers, spears, halberds, axes.
Every weapon imaginable, each one forged from a vampire's heart. Each one contains a vampire's soul, bound to serve humanity in death after terrorizing it in life.
The moment I stepped across the threshold, the voices exploded.
YOUNG MASTER!
HE'S HERE!
FINALLY!
CHOOSE ME!
BOND WITH ME!
THE BLOOD CALLS!
WE HAVE WAITED SO LONG!
TAKE MY POWER!
I AM WORTHY OF YOU!
I gritted my teeth hard enough that my jaw ached, focusing all my attention on the pain in my broken finger.
The bone ground together as I flexed it slightly, sending fresh waves of agony up my arm.
It helped, but barely. The sheer volume of voices was overwhelming, a tidal wave of sound that threatened to drown me.
But one voice cut through all the others like a hot knife through butter.
"We're meant to be, my darling..."