Elijah
Empire Hotel, Pandemonium City
Yorkside region
Capital of the Kingdom of Ashtarium
October 29th 6414
0500pm
I sat cross-legged in the center of my room at the Empire Hotel, the warm yellow light of the room bathing my body. My breathing was slow and deliberate, my focus sharp as I meditated, feeling the subtle pulses of energy flow through me. Weeks had passed since my meeting with Jack Kuria, since he had offered me his blood. And in those weeks, I had followed his instructions to the letter, cultivating every day, saturating my Soul Core with the essence of that rare, mythical-grade blood.
Jack's blood was unlike anything I had encountered before—a rare, potent resource capable of enhancing a Soul Core's cultivation by leaps and bounds. Day after day, I had refined its power, weaving it into my being, letting it shape me. Slowly, steadily, the color of my Soul Core shifted. The pale, muted hues that once defined it were now a brilliant yellow, glowing with newfound strength. As I sat in silence, I could feel the energy coursing through me, brighter and stronger than it had ever been.
Spirit Essence—the essence of the soul itself—was the source of Spirit Energy. It was intrinsic, the wellspring from which all Spirit Energy flowed. When the Soul Core was rich in Spirit Essence, it could produce Spirit Energy continuously. That energy, in turn, could be converted into Mana by the Mana circuits within my body. This cycle was the foundation of cultivation, and I had spent the last several weeks honing it under Jack's guidance.
As the minutes passed, my breathing deepened, and I felt the glow of my core stabilize. The strength within me solidified, marking the ending phase of the Adept rank. Satisfied, I opened my eyes and let out a slow breath. The cultivation session was over.
Rising from my cushion, I crossed the room to the bathroom. I peeled off the damp, sweat-soaked clothes clinging to my body and stepped into the shower. Hot water cascaded over me, washing away the physical tension, though not the unease I felt. My mind drifted to what lay ahead.
Last week, I received a message from Jack about my next assignment—my first true task as his Ta'valur. The weight of this responsibility had been looming ever since I agreed to it. Jack's words echoed in my mind, and though I knew I had little choice, I couldn't help feeling apprehensive. This wasn't just a test of my abilities; it was a step into a world of responsibilities and burdens I hadn't anticipated.
Still, there was a small sense of relief in knowing that Jack's test aligned with my existing role as the Director of R.E.T.U. I wouldn't have to juggle two separate missions; the tasks were intertwined. Today, my focus was clear.
I had to deal with the situation in Kettlia.
That was the assignment Jack had given me. He wanted me in Kettlia—a region under the control of the Lionheart family. But why? Ever since I received the message, that question had gnawed at me. I searched for an answer but found none, only an unsettling silence. Jack's motives were as mysterious as ever.
I had booked a private airship for the trip, set to depart that evening. I hadn't told my family yet, and I wasn't looking forward to it. My father's reaction, in particular, weighed on me. If he discovered I intended to meet with the Lionhearts, there was no telling what he might do. Disownment or worse wasn't out of the question. After Jack's recent revelations, I couldn't be certain where my father's loyalties—or temper—truly lay. To avoid confrontation, I'd asked Steph to fabricate an excuse for my trip, keeping her in the dark about my real reason for going. I didn't want her dragged into the fallout if things went wrong.
After a quick shower, I stepped out of the bathroom and dressed quickly. The festive air in Yorkside was unmistakable—music, decorations, and cheerful faces filled the streets. The city buzzed with the excitement of Remembrance Day, though the celebrations felt different this year. For two years now, the people had carried the heavy weight of the royal family's loss. But this year, the new King had made a concerted effort to bring some semblance of normalcy back to the occasion. Remembrance Day wasn't as grand as Yuletide, but it had a more somber significance. For me, it was my cousin's favorite holiday, and I couldn't shake the bittersweet memories of celebrating it with her. Now, heading back to the palace where I'd lost her, I felt a mix of dread and nostalgia.
When I arrived, the E-gate opened to an empty courtyard. There was no one waiting for me, not even the usual staff. I wandered toward the Dining Hall and found a flurry of activity. Servants bustled back and forth, swapping out decorations on the long table, their movements swift and purposeful. In the midst of it all stood my mother, poised and radiant as ever. She turned as if sensing my presence, her eyes lighting up when she saw me.
"Delilah," she said, calling me by my former name. I felt a brief tick of irritation in my temple but forced myself to remain calm. She wore a flowing pink dress, her shoulders draped in a matching shawl. A delicate fascinator adorned her neatly arranged brown hair. In her arms, she cradled a small dog, idly stroking its fur.
"My…your Soul Core seems to have improved quite a bit," she said, her tone almost curious. "What are you now, Adept rank?" Her eyes narrowed slightly as she peered at me, using her Internal Sense—a skill unique to the Awakened. Internal Sense allowed her to project her consciousness outward, reading the flow of energy within my core. It was a refined form of Mana Manipulation, one that extended her perception far beyond the physical realm.
I tried not to let her probing gaze bother me, but her keen awareness always made me uneasy.
"Yes, I just reached the peak state of the Adpet realm this morning," I said.
"I didn't know you were that interested in cultivating," Mother said, a trace of curiosity in her voice.
She wasn't the type to concern herself with the effort it took to climb the ranks. To her, cultivation was unnecessary. She already possessed immortality, immense physical strength, and an innate Ability Factor. She saw no point in straining herself further. Her Soul Core had never advanced beyond the Novice rank, yet it shone with a rich, vibrant brown—a testament to the saturation brought on by her constant indulgence in feeding. If she ever decided to cultivate seriously, she would likely rise through the ranks effortlessly. But that wasn't her way.
"I'm gradually getting used to it," I said, feigning indifference. The truth was, if I could live like her, I would. I would let my natural gifts carry me through eternity, basking in their comfort. But that wasn't an option for me. I had duties, responsibilities—expectations I hadn't asked for—bearing down on me. I needed strength to shoulder it all.
"Mother," I said, trying to keep my tone even, "it's been two years. You still can't remember my new name?"
I stepped out of the doorway as staff members passed, bowing briefly before exiting the room.
"What's two years when eternity is ours?" Mother countered, dismissing my concern with a serene smile. She set down the small dog she'd been cradling and pulled me into a warm, firm embrace.
"How are Azania and Chloe?" I asked as I returned her hug.
Mother had spent the last two years in the Azania Empire with my younger sister. I'd barely heard from either of them during that time. Azania, located far beyond the Salt Mountains in one of the five Old Continents, was ruled by the Orisha House, a prominent vampire family.
"Chloe's fantastic," Mother said, her voice bright. "She's dazzled the entire court in Azania."
I smiled at that. It sounded just like Chloe. She had always been a social butterfly, charming everyone in her orbit. I could picture her in the Azanian court, turning heads and earning praise from nobles and royals alike.
"What brings you back here?" I asked. I hadn't been told of her return, and I knew Father had arranged for Chloe's education abroad to strengthen ties with the Orisha House. It was part of his strategy to maintain our house's standing among the Seven Noble Families. With Ruthven and Varnae still aligned with us, another strong ally would further secure our position. Orisha had been an old friend of our house, and Father hoped that Chloe's presence in their empire would deepen that bond—maybe even lead to her being matched with one of Azania's princes.
"Chloe isn't happy with me right now," Mother admitted, a trace of tension in her voice.
"So you left our young girl behind to come back here for Remembrance?" a deep voice cut in.
Father stepped into the room, his commanding presence filling the space. He was dressed in a crimson royal tunic adorned with gold frogging, every inch the patriarch of our house.
"Nehemiah, I've told you six times—Chloe doesn't need me right now," Mother replied, her tone sharp. She turned and snapped at a servant carrying a tray. "Not that one. Bring the Ruby plates." The servant paled and quickly scurried out.
"Brunch should've started ages ago," Father said curtly before turning his gaze on me. His eyes swept over me, pausing as he noted the change in my Soul Core. He said nothing, but the brief flicker of acknowledgment was enough. It felt strange, almost unsettling, to know that Father was pleased. He had approved of the strategy I proposed for the Mircalla lands, a plan that would soon be set into motion. Even though I had my reservations about it, the knowledge that I had earned his favor felt…odd.
The door opened again, and the servant returned, now carrying the correct utensils. Behind him, the chef entered with trays of food. Father and Mother took their seats at the grand table, and I sat down to Father's right.
"Where's Isaiah?" I asked.
"Your brother's busy with work," Father replied tersely. "He can't make it."
"Is it getting to him?" I pressed, pouring a glass of champagne. This was the expensive stuff, brought out only for special occasions.
Father ignored the question, his expression hardening. "Speaking of work," he said. "Why am I only now hearing about your travel plans?"
I suppressed a sigh. Here it came.
"The situation in Kettlia has become more pressing," I said. It wasn't exactly true; the protests were ongoing, but they hadn't escalated. Still, I needed a plausible reason. "The peacekeeping forces there aren't equipped to handle the situation. I need to oversee the effort personally."
"You could authorize the Enforcers to act," Father said, his tone flat and matter-of-fact. "A little bit of slaughter here and there, and the humans will comply."
"You can't just kill humans like they're nothing," Mother replied, her voice firm.
"Why not?" Father shot back, leaning back in his chair with a slight smirk. "I'm the King."
"Because it would look bad with the U.I.P.," I interjected. The United Institute of Peace had long held sway over international opinion on the treatment of humans. Founded by my uncle, the previous king, the organization had spread its influence to nations far and wide—Lieden, the Jade Republic, the Azania Empire. Their mission was straightforward: uphold peace and equality, particularly in countries where humans were considered citizens. Thanks to the U.I.P., the world had enjoyed relative peace for centuries. To openly defy their principles would risk more than just public relations; it could spark widespread instability.
Father's expression darkened. "Why should I care about them? I'm trying to make Ashtarium what it should have always been. What my father planned for it." His voice carried an edge of conviction, a tone I knew well. It was the Ashtarmel dream—a vision of dominion that had driven our house for generations.
"But what about Uncle's—"
Mother interrupted, her cheerful tone cutting through the tension. "We should start eating, don't you think, darling?" She began placing food on our plates, effectively silencing me. Father shot me a brief glance before turning his attention to his meal. We ate in silence—at least, Father and I did. Mother filled the void, recounting her time in the Azania Empire. She described how the weather felt natural, unencumbered by the artificial Domes that shielded Ashtarium. Unlike our land, Azania's skies displayed the Eternal Night in full, a reminder of how different their world was from ours.
She spoke about her trips through the Nahari Jungle resorts, where she saw animals I could only imagine—creatures she described with awe. It was clear she had enjoyed herself. I was glad for her; she deserved the reprieve. Azania, from what I had heard, was a land of immense wealth and resources, a country whose riches surpassed those of both the Old and New Continents.
After brunch, the servants cleared the plates and we moved to the reading chambers, where tea and coffee were brought in. I hadn't intended to linger, but Mother insisted.
"I have plans for lunch," she said as she sipped her tea, "but I'd like to see you before I head out. When exactly are you leaving for Kettlia?"
"Evening," I replied, checking my watch. "The airship is already arranged. I should arrive late tonight."
"Why not just use the E-gate?" she asked, frowning slightly. "That way you could spend more time with the family on Remembrance Day—and attend the Royal Dinner Party."
"The boy is working," Father said abruptly, cutting in before I could answer. "If he's obligated to go to Kettlia, he doesn't need to stay."
Both Mother and I turned to him, and I raised an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't approve of me going," I said cautiously.
"I never said that," Father replied, his expression neutral. "I only asked if you needed to go." He finished his tea in one long sip and stood. "If you insist that you need to be there, I won't stop you. We all have our duties. Mine await." Without another word, he left, his departure as abrupt as his tone. Mother hissed, anger flaring in her eyes.
"And just like that, he walks away without telling me anything," Mother muttered.
I sipped my tea, keeping silent. I didn't want to be drawn into whatever drama was unfolding between them. But I knew the truth. I knew why Mother had taken Chloe to Azania. Their relationship wasn't as perfect as she liked to portray. The smiles, the public gestures—they were a performance. Beneath it all, there was a distance between them that Mother refused to acknowledge.
Once I finished my tea, I sat for a moment longer before excusing myself. Mother didn't even glance in my direction. She was already preoccupied, typing away on her uni, busy planning the dinner party for Remembrance Day. I lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching her. She'd forgotten I was even there. Her attention was completely absorbed by her device.
Mother could be so capricious. I had no idea why she'd wanted children at all. Growing up, she hadn't been as involved as she liked to claim. With her position as the King's sister-in-law, she had access to privileges most could only dream of. Servants handled most of the parenting, and her engagement in my and Chloe's lives was limited to public-facing events—birthdays, ceremonies, things that required her to be seen. What I remembered most vividly wasn't her presence, but Uncle Rafael's.
Even as King, Rafael made time for us. Ariella was his daughter, but he treated me and Chloe as if we were his as well. He never missed an opportunity to send a thoughtful gift or tell a story that made us feel like the center of his world. He talked to us about what it meant to be vampires, what kind of legacy he hoped we would carry. In many ways, he had been more of a father to me than my own ever was.
That was why I wouldn't stand by while Father tried to erase his legacy. I knew what Father was doing—trying to bury everything Rafael had built. But I wouldn't let it happen. And Jack, damn him, must have known. Why else would he send me on this peculiar errand to Kettlia? He'd seen through me somehow, understood what was driving me, though I wasn't sure how or why. I didn't yet know what he wanted me to do, but I was determined to find out.
Traveling by airship was a very different experience from stepping through an E-gate. For one, there was the wait—waiting for clearance, waiting for takeoff. I sat in my seat, a glass of wine in hand, half-listening as the pilot explained seatbelt procedures and emergency protocols. My thoughts wandered, only occasionally snapping back to the present when a particular instruction caught my ear.
Across from me sat Steph. She had been quiet the entire drive to the airport, barely saying a word. It made me uneasy. Usually, she asked questions, pressed for details, but when I'd told her to clear my schedule and prepare the airship, she'd simply done it without protest. No questions about why I was going to Kettlia. No objections about why I wasn't using an E-gate. She only had one condition: she wanted to come along.
I didn't object. Strangely, I didn't mind her presence. Considering I was headed into human territory, it felt oddly reassuring to have her by my side. My gaze lingered on her as she stared out the window, the clouds casting fleeting shadows over her face. As if sensing my attention, she turned her head to meet my eyes.
"How many attacks have there been since the Count of Periun passed the curfew?" I asked.
"There's been a ten percent increase in Lightsword activity, especially in the major urban areas," Steph replied, her voice steady.
I leaned back in my seat, my brow furrowing as I thought it over. "With the council meeting the day after Remembrance to vote on the Identifier Bill, I can't shake the feeling that they'll escalate."
Father was determined to see this bill passed. It was his way of cataloging how many of his subjects were human—an early warning system should they rise up against him. In his mind, it was a precaution, but I saw the cracks forming. His actions were slowly shifting Ashtarium's course, pulling it away from the legacy of cooperation King Rafael had spent generations cultivating. Instead, I saw shades of the Berlin Empire in his methods, a path I couldn't allow us to follow.
Had Jack been right all along? Did Father truly loathe the humans enough to destroy the fragile goodwill that Rafael had built? If so, it wasn't just a mistake—it was a catastrophe waiting to happen. Clenching my jaw, I forced my frustration down. I hated that I was playing into Jack's game, but now that I knew what was at stake, I didn't have much of a choice. His plan might have been manipulative, but it had illuminated a truth I couldn't ignore.
I opened the window, looking out just as a massive opening appeared in the painted blue sky. In an instant, we were plunged into shadow.
The Eternal Night.
The phenomenon defied all logic, a darkness that had cloaked the world for six thousand years. It had begun in the aftermath of the Long War, a brutal conflict between two ancient races that had nearly destroyed everything. The Eternal Night ended the war, blanketing the skies and bringing ruin to the losing side—a race whose very name and culture had been erased from history. The war's victors had claimed it as divine judgment, a final punishment that condemned the remnants of their enemies to obscurity.
The sight of that eternal darkness unsettled me, as it always did. I slid the window shut again. I didn't care much for history—Ella had always been the one fascinated by it—but even I couldn't help but feel the weight of those ancient events pressing down. The past wasn't something I could ignore entirely, not when its echoes still shaped the present.
But this wasn't the time to get lost in old wounds. My focus had to be on Kettlia. On the Lionheart family. On whatever Jack had sent me here to accomplish. I pressed my fingers to my temples, going over the possibilities, turning each scenario over in my mind.
What if the meeting with the Grand Council didn't go as planned? What if the Lightsword Brigade stirred more trouble than expected? My original request had been to meet with the Lionheart Grand Duke himself, but instead, the Grand Council of Kettlia had insisted on seeing me, the second Prince of Ashtarium. It was a move that could easily draw unwanted attention, especially from Father.
To maintain appearances, I'd framed this trip as an urgent response to the growing unrest in Periun City. It wasn't far from the truth—tensions were high, protests simmered on the edge of violence—but I knew my presence could just as easily make things worse. The trip required passing through Periun, and that meant dealing with Count Orlock. It wouldn't surprise me if Orlock had already aligned himself with Father's agenda.
I'd need to tread carefully. Visiting the Peacekeeper's building in Downtown Periun would provide a convenient cover, making my arrival seem routine and keeping any reports back to Father innocuous.
I sighed, looking out the window one last time before closing it firmly. The airship's engines hummed steadily, carrying us toward the unknown. I only hoped that by the time we landed, I'd have a clearer picture of what awaited me.
"What are you thinking about?" Steph asked, her voice soft enough not to startle me.
I blinked, glancing up at her. "What?"
"It's just…" she hesitated, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studied me. "I've never seen you concentrate this hard before. I was wondering what was going through your mind."
I let out a slow breath, my gaze drifting to the window. "The last Remembrance I spent with my cousin."
"The late princess," Steph said, more a statement than a question. Her tone was gentle, respectful.
A faint smile tugged at my lips as I thought of Ella. She had loved this day, immersing herself fully in its traditions and spirit. She would dress up, donning elaborate costumes as she played the part of historical figures from before the Long War. Her enthusiasm was contagious, a rare burst of joy in an otherwise rigid life.
"If she were still alive," I murmured, "I wouldn't be going through this now."
Steph stayed quiet for a moment, as if giving me space to hold that thought. Then, with a note of curiosity, she asked, "What do you expect to find on this journey?"
I took my fingers from my temples and leaned back, her question settling heavily in my mind. What did I expect? The truth was, I wasn't entirely sure. Jack had upended everything I thought I knew—forcing me to confront realities I hadn't wanted to see, dragging me away from my pursuit of justice against the Gomez family. Now, I was flying to meet with a family that Father considered an enemy, going behind his back in a dangerous game of alliances and intrigue. And all of this… all of it was for her.
It was for Ella, for the unresolved ache that still hadn't faded, even two years after her death. It was for the truth I couldn't let rest, the nagging sense that I needed to set things right. But how? And at what cost?
Instead of answering Steph, I closed my eyes, shutting out the view of the Eternal Night and the questions swirling in my mind. For now, I needed silence—if only for a moment.