The buried queen

The metal door opened quickly, and the light of the torches from the corridor outside faintly illumined the dark room. A short haired blonde man smiled, sitting at the table on the far side of the chamber, and waved.
Another individual entered, and closed the metal door behind him. He was maybe six feet tall, with a red cloak and hood covering his face, and smiled in return.
"What did you find?" the hooded man asked.
"You may be right." replied the other, smiling and slightly tilting his head "I found that name in our records. She is probably real."
"Very well, this is great news." said the hooded one, with a grin.
"Is it? Because if that is the right place, and she is really what we think, seeking her may not be wise." The blonde man gazed at the other, his lips pursed and his expression uneasy.
"Do you understand that she may be the oldest one still alive? She may have all the answers I’m looking for." said the man wearing the hood, placing his hands on the table.
"Or she will just destroy you, because she maybe doesn’t want to be disturbed. And even if she means you no harm, how can we know in wich way a vampire that old will react, after centuries of quiescence." the blonde man quckly said, his tone troubled.
"Whatever is going to happen, it will be worth it." the hooded one said, quickly moving to the metal door of the chamber.
"Pridbor this time you are risking too much, and not only you." the other said loudly, before the door shut.

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