A fleeting moment can be worth a lifetime of memories.
Blood Bond
The gates of the Blutkaiser estate loomed before me, a testament to the grandeur and power of the family within. I stood at the entrance, feeling the weight of the history and tradition that permeated the very air around the estate. The guards, dressed in the formal livery of the house, eyed me with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. I was no stranger to this place, but my presence was always met with a certain formality that bordered on suspicion.
A vampire attendant stepped forward, his demeanor respectful yet guarded. "Your Majesty," he addressed me, his voice smooth and practiced. "Please, follow me."
"Shaytan is just fine," I commented but nodded anyway.
He turned, leading me through the gates and into the sprawling grounds of the Blutkaiser estate. The path we walked was lined with ancient oaks, their branches heavy with the weight of centuries.
As we approached the main building, the vampire guided me through the grand entrance hall, its marble floors gleaming under the soft light of chandeliers. The house was quiet, the only sound the faint echo of our footsteps as we made our way through the corridors.
Finally, we arrived at the door to Mr. Blutkaiser's office. The vampire attendant paused, giving me a respectful nod before knocking lightly on the heavy wooden door.
"Enter," came the deep, authoritative voice from within.
The vampire opened the door, standing aside to let me pass. I stepped into the office, the familiar sight of Blutkaiser seated behind his massive oak desk greeting me. He looked up from the papers before him, his piercing gaze locking onto mine.
"King Shaytan," he greeted me, his tone formal with a hint of politeness that was rare for a man of his stature. "What brings you to my estate today?"
I winced slightly at the title, the weight of it still unfamiliar. "Please," I said, raising a hand, "no need to be so formal. I'm still the same Shaytan who's a friend of your daughter."
Blutkaiser's gaze swept over me, landing briefly on the cream-colored hoodie I was wearing. It was an odd sight, even to me—a cute, childlike piece of clothing with an even cuter bear logo on the left chest area. It looked like something a child might wear, not a young adult with power enough to shake kingdoms. But it was a gift from Coffee, and it comforted me in ways I couldn't easily explain.
Blutkaiser chose not to comment on it. Still, the corner of his mouth twitched, betraying a hint of amusement that didn't reach his eyes. His expression softened for a brief moment, but his posture remained rigid, his respect evident.
"You may be her friend," he replied, "but you're also a king now, allied with Crimson." There was a subtle but unmistakable gravity in his words. "As Crimson's family member and one of his most trusted subjects, I must show due respect."
I understood his stance—our positions had shifted, creating a new dynamic between us. "I appreciate your consideration," I said, my tone sincere. "But for now, let's just keep things as they were. This isn't about politics or alliances."
Blutkaiser's gaze held mine for a long moment, as if weighing the sincerity of my words. Blutkaiser leaned back in his chair, studying me for a moment. His eyes flickered to the hoodie I wore, the one Coffee had given me.
Finally, he gave a small nod, though the formality in his demeanor didn't waver. "Very well," he conceded, "but know that the respect remains, regardless of titles."
"Thank you," I said, feeling a bit more at ease. "I need to speak with Coffee, and I was hoping to use one of your ballrooms."
"The ballroom?" he repeated, his tone thoughtful. "May I ask what this is about?"
"I'm planning to throw a debut party for the Hueless King. I need to show myself to the nobles of all races, let them see me and understand who I am. This is the first step to making myself available, to solidify alliances, and to quell the curiosity surrounding the new king."
He considered my request for a moment, his eyes narrowing in thought. "You want to use one of my estates to host this event?" he asked, the formality of his tone softening slightly as he acknowledged the gravity of my request.
"Yes," I confirmed. "I need a place where the nobility can gather in an environment that commands respect."
Blutkaiser studied me intently, the weight of my request clearly on his mind. Finally, he nodded. "Very well, King Shaytan. The ballroom is yours."
"Thank you," I said, relieved by his agreement. "And please, just Shay."
His lips twitched into a slight smile, but the formality in his demeanor remained. "As you wish, Shay."
With that, the arrangement was settled. I could sense Blutkaiser's unease at this new dynamic between us, but for now, he was willing to put aside the titles and power plays, if only for the sake of Coffee.
After my conversation with Blutkaiser, one of the attendants led me through the grand corridors of the Blutkaiser estate. The mansion was an intricate maze of luxury, but my mind was preoccupied with what I needed to share. Soon, we arrived at a room that looked like a living area—cozy yet elegant, with plush furniture and an atmosphere that exuded warmth despite the grandiosity of the surroundings.
The attendant knocked lightly on the door before opening it, ushering me inside.
Coffee was there, sitting on a velvet armchair, her eyes widening in surprise as she saw me enter. I could tell she hadn't expected a visit. Her gaze quickly moved to the cream-colored hoodie I wore, and for a brief moment, I saw recognition flash in her eyes. She didn't say anything about it, but the surprise was clear on her face.
"Shay," she greeted me softly, her voice laced with curiosity and a hint of concern. "What's going on? What are you doing here?"
I offered her a small smile as I approached, feeling the odd mix of my new role and our old friendship pulling at me. "I needed to talk to you," I said, my tone more serious than I intended. "Something happened... something important."
She gestured for me to sit on the sofa opposite her, her eyes searching mine for answers. "Tell me," she urged gently, her usual composure softening.
I sat down, leaning forward slightly, feeling the weight of what I was about to share. "I visited the necromancer," I began, watching as Coffee's expression turned more attentive. "I needed to know about Jo... about what happened to her after... after everything."
Coffee's breath hitched, and she sat up straighter, her hands clenching the armrests of the chair.
"Jo... she's been reborn," I continued, the memory of the little girl's green eyes flashing in my mind. "As a child in a large family with three brothers. She has the same green eyes as Jo, even though her face and hair are different. But it's her, Coffee... I'm sure of it."
Coffee's reaction was immediate—her eyes filled with tears, her breath coming in short, shallow gasps as she struggled to process what I'd just told her. "Reborn?" she whispered, the word catching in her throat. "She's... alive?"
"She looked right at me," I continued, my voice trembling as I recalled the moment. "Through the orb... it was like she knew I was there. Like she recognized me."
Coffee shot up from her chair, pacing the room as if trying to escape the torrent of emotions flooding her. "She's alive," she repeated, her voice cracking. "After all this time... after everything... she's alive?"
I stood and moved toward her, but she didn't stop pacing, her hands trembling as she ran them through her hair. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?" she demanded, her voice rising with emotion. "I... I could've—" She broke off, choking on her words, as if the weight of Jo's death and the hope of her rebirth were too much to bear all at once.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, my heart aching as I watched her struggle. "But seeing Jo's incarnation wasn't without cost."
Coffee's eyes searched mine, confusion mingling with the lingering tears. "What do you mean?" she asked, her voice tinged with concern.
"I had to give something up, something precious to see her again," I explained, my tone heavy with the weight of the memory. "I didn't want you to bear that burden."
But I can show you, Coffee. I can share it with you, so you don't have to pay the price.
Her expression softened, the initial shock giving way to understanding. "You don't have to do that, Shay," she said, though her voice trembled with longing.
"I want to," I replied, reaching out to place my hand gently on hers. "You deserve to see her too."
Coffee hesitated, then nodded, squeezing my hand in return. I closed my eyes and focused, drawing her consciousness into mine. The connection between us deepened, and I could feel her presence alongside mine as we delved into the memory I held.
The room around us seemed to dissolve as I projected the scene from my mind.
We found ourselves standing together before a glowing orb. Within it, the image of a little girl—a new incarnation of Jo—came to life. She was in a sunlit garden, her vibrant green eyes twinkling with curiosity and wonder.
Coffee's breath caught in her throat, and her eyes widened as she took in the sight. "Is that really her?" she whispered, a mix of awe and sorrow in her voice.
The little girl glanced up, her eyes meeting ours through the orb's surface. There was something profoundly familiar in her gaze, a spark of Jo's spirit shining through the young child's innocent eyes.
"This was the vision I saw," I murmured, my voice tinged with both relief and melancholy. "She's begun a new life, just as she wished."
Tears brimmed in Coffee's eyes, but there was a softness to them now.
"She looks happy," Coffee said quietly, her voice steadying as she absorbed the vision. "Thank you for showing me this."
I nodded, squeezing her hand gently. "It was Jo's wish to see what would come of her sacrifice. She chose to be reincarnated to see this new beginning. Her fate is intertwined with ours in a way that remains unbroken."
As the vision faded and the orb's light dimmed, the room around us reformed. The warmth of our shared experience lingered, filling the space with a sense of quiet understanding.
As the vision faded, I felt Coffee's grip tighten on my hand. Her eyes, still wet with tears, were fixed on the empty space where the orb had been. I could sense the profound relief mingled with lingering sadness that filled the room.
Coffee's composure finally gave way. She buried her face in my shoulder, her body shaking with quiet sobs. The weight of Jo's loss seemed to come crashing down all at once. I held her close, letting her cry out the grief that had been bottled up for so long.
"I'm so sorry, Coffee," I murmured into her hair, my voice soft but heavy with sincerity. "I wish I could have done more."
"No," she interrupted, her voice muffled but resolute. "You've done more than enough. I needed to see her, to know she's still there, even if it's not the same. Thank you."
She pulled back slightly, her tear-streaked face looking up at me with a mixture of gratitude and resolve. Her eyes were fierce, the determination that had always marked her now shining through her sadness.
I watched as Coffee took a deep breath, her eyes betraying a mix of relief and lingering sorrow. "Seeing Jo's reincarnation, knowing she's in a new life… it's both a relief and a heartache," she said, her voice quivering slightly.
I nodded, understanding her words.
Coffee's gaze became resolute as she extended her hand towards me, palm open. "In our culture, sharing blood is a way to bind our fates together. I offer this to you as a symbol of my renewed loyalty and commitment."
I looked at her outstretched hand, feeling a mix of surprise and hesitation. "Coffee, you've already pledged your loyalty to me. I don't need more proof."
Her eyes locked onto mine, filled with both determination and vulnerability. "It's not just about proving my loyalty. It's about honoring Jo's memory and making a vow for the future. This gesture is important to me, and I need you to accept it."
I hesitated, feeling the weight of her words and the gravity of the ritual. "Are you sure this is what you want?"
Coffee nodded firmly. "Yes, it's important to me."
With a deep breath, I reluctantly accepted. "Alright. If it means that much to you, then I'll honor your wish."
She looked at me with a resolute expression, her eyes reflecting the gravity of the moment. She reached into her sleeve and produced a small, ornate dagger that she must have kept hidden for emergencies like this. It was a simple, elegant weapon, its blade polished and sharp.
Without hesitation, she pricked her finger with the dagger's tip, letting a few droplets of blood fall onto the floor. The blood was dark and glistening, a vivid red against the dim lighting of the room.
"Here," she said, offering me the dagger with a steady hand. "It's enough. This is our bond, spontaneous and raw, but meaningful."
I took the dagger, feeling the cold metal in my hand.
"It doesn't have to be perfect, Shay. Just real."
I took a deep breath and followed her lead. I pricked my own finger, the injury much deeper than hers. Blood welled up and dripped onto the floor beside Coffee's. The mingling of our blood on the floor felt intimate and intense, a visceral testament to our connection.
Coffee took my bleeding finger and guided it to touch her own. "This is enough."
She took my hand and pressed it against the small puddle of mixed blood on the floor. The warmth of our blood against my skin felt oddly grounding. We stood there in silence, both of us absorbing the rawness of the moment.
Coffee then took a small, clean cloth she had on hand and gently wiped our hands. "This is our bond," she said softly. "No grand rituals or elaborate preparations, just our intention and our trust."
There was something profoundly intimate about the act, a connection forged not through grandeur but through sincerity and shared commitment.
Coffee took a deep breath, her eyes locked onto mine with a resolute intensity.
"This bond," she began, her voice steady and filled with emotion, "is more than just a formality. It's a declaration. You are my king, Shaytan. The only one I will bow to."
Her words, sincere and unwavering, resonated deeply within me. In the midst of the raw, spontaneous ritual, there was a profound sense of understanding and unity.
Coffee lowered herself into a deep, respectful bow, the gesture mirroring the deep, emotional submission she had shown before in the graveyard.
"Rise," I said softly, extending a hand to her.
She lifted her head, her expression a blend of relief and steadfastness.
As the final echoes of the ritual faded, I was caught off guard by the sudden, frantic entry of Blutkaiser. He stormed in, his eyes wide with alarm and his expression a mix of horror and disbelief.
The scent of blood had clearly reached him, and he stormed in, his eyes scanning the room with the kind of intensity that suggested he was prepared for the worst. When his gaze landed on Coffee, still kneeling on the floor with her head bowed, and me standing beside her, his expression shifted from concern to outright horror.
"What in the name of all that's unholy is happening here?" Blutkaiser bellowed, his voice echoing with an almost comedic level of panic. Blutkaiser's voice wavered as he took in the scene. He froze, his eyes widening as he comprehended what had transpired.
"Father!" Coffee's voice was a mixture of embarrassment and reassurance. She stood up quickly, her face flushing as she saw the panic in her father's eyes. "It's okay. It's just a blood bond. We had to do it on short notice."
Blutkaiser's eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. "A blood bond? Just a blood bond?" He staggered forward as if he might faint, his face turning a shade of green that matched the rarest of exotic fruits. "Do you have any idea what this means?"
Blutkaiser really looked as if he might collapse. His hand clutched his chest as though he were trying to steady his heartbeat. I was taken aback by the sheer drama of the situation. I glanced at Blutkaiser, who seemed to be having some sort of internal meltdown.
He was glancing at the small puddle of blood and then back at Coffee, who was now standing with a sheepish expression. His gaze shifted to me, filled with a mix of incredulity and barely suppressed panic. "Shaytan, do you have any idea what you've done?"
"I'm afraid I don't," I admitted, struggling to keep a straight face. "I thought it was... a kinda standard procedure?"
Blutkaiser looked at me as though I had just suggested summoning a demon for a casual dinner party. "Standard procedure? This is one of the most sacred and profound rituals in vampire culture! It's not something you casually do on a Tuesday!"
His words only made me more confused. I looked back at Coffee, who was now trying to calm her father with increasingly frantic gestures. "I didn't realize it was such a big deal," I said, still trying to process the scene unfolding before me.
Blutkaiser took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "Oh, my dear lord, you're telling me you've performed a blood bond without even understanding its significance? It's a sacred oath, a lifelong commitment—"
"Yeah, I didn't exactly have a manual for this," I replied helplessly. "And I definitely didn't expect it to turn into a full-on family drama."
Blutkaiser's face twitched as he fought to regain his composure. He took a few more steps toward Coffee, who was now standing between him and the ritual remnants with an apologetic expression. "I am going to need a moment. Or several."
Coffee, her face flushed with embarrassment, reached out to her father. "Father, please try to understand. It was necessary, and it's done now. There's no need to overreact."
Blutkaiser continued to mutter under his breath, his words a mix of disbelief and exasperation. "Necessary? It's a bond that ties your very essence to another's! This isn't a minor detail; it's a cosmic event!"
As Blutkaiser paced around the room, still grappling with the intensity of the situation, I stood there feeling like an unwilling participant in a tragicomic play. The sheer absurdity of the situation—the dramatic entrance, the over-the-top reactions, and the confusion over what was apparently one of the most profound rituals—made it clear that I had underestimated the weight of what I had just witnessed.
Blutkaiser finally stopped pacing and looked at me with a mix of exhaustion and begrudging acceptance. "Well, I suppose it's done now, but please, in the future, inform me before you engage in any more... celestial ceremonies."
I gave him a sympathetic nod. "Noted. And thanks for the, uh, dramatic entrance. It certainly added a unique touch to the occasion."
Blutkaiser took a deep, steadying breath, though his eyes still betrayed a hint of lingering concern. Then he left as quickly as he came.
"Looks like we made quite the impression," I said, trying to lighten the mood.
Coffee chuckled, wiping away the last of her tears. "Yeah, he definitely has a flair for the dramatic."
After Blutkaiser's dramatic exit, the room fell into a contemplative silence.
I sat beside her on the plush sofa, the weight of the evening settling heavily on my shoulders. "I'm sorry about all this," I said softly, glancing at the remnants of the ritual. "I didn't know it was such a… profound gesture."
Coffee shook her head, giving me a small, reassuring smile. "No, it's not your fault. I should have explained more about what the blood bond means."
She took a deep breath and began to speak, her voice steady despite the emotional charge. "The blood bond is one of the most sacred rituals among our kind. It's more than just a pledge of loyalty—it's a binding of souls. When someone performs a blood bond, they're giving a piece of themselves to another, acknowledging their dominance and pledging unwavering loyalty."
I nodded, trying to absorb the weight of her words. "So, it's a really big deal then?"
Coffee nodded, her expression serious. "Yes, it is. The most loyal subjects of Crimson all performed a blood bond with him. It signifies absolute trust and submission. It's a commitment that goes beyond words or actions."
I looked at her, trying to reconcile this new understanding. "I didn't realize it was this intense."
Coffee reached out and took my hand, squeezing it gently. "This was my choice. The blood bond is not something done lightly, but it's a reflection of how much I trust you and how committed I am to this alliance."
I could see the sincerity in her eyes. Then her gaze softened. "You've been a friend to me in ways I didn't expect. I'm not just pledging my loyalty to a king. I'm pledging it to someone who has been there for me when it mattered most."
I didn't know what to say to that. A simple thanks would have felt too hollow and empty. So I just took her hand into mine and squeezed it.