Chapter 1: Before the Dawn
The Augustine estate was quiet—too quiet for a house of its size, as if the walls themselves held their breath in anticipation. Argus Augustine, at seven years old, had grown accustomed to the silence. In a home where no voice rose above a whisper and every step echoed faintly, quiet was normal. Silence meant his mother was near, her presence swallowing the sounds of the estate like a vast, unseen shadow.
But it wasn't an unhappy home, not for Argus. The Augustine estate may have been cold and imposing to some, but for him, it was familiar, comfortable. His mother, despite her intensity, provided everything he needed. Though her love bordered on obsessive, it was love all the same. And Argus, though young, had begun to learn how to navigate it. Her love was suffocating, but Argus had learned that fighting against it was pointless. He wasn't afraid of her control, nor did he resent it—not yet. It was a part of him, a boundary he had learned to live within, for now. There would be a time to challenge it, but that time was not now.
He wandered through the empty halls, his small feet making barely a sound on the polished marble floors, his slight frame seemed even smaller against the towering walls and vast corridors of the Augustine estate. Outside, the gardens stretched into the horizon, an endless maze of hedges and ancient trees. The long shadows cast by the dim evening light seemed to stretch toward Argus, like silent sentinels reaching for him. The cold stillness of the estate was comforting in a way—he had grown up in it, after all. But lately, the silence felt... different, as though something unseen lurked beneath it, waiting for the right moment to rise.
As Argus neared the far end of the garden, something caught his eye. A shadow moved, shifting along the hedge in the fading light. He paused, narrowing his eyes as he tried to focus. For a moment, he thought it was simply the play of the evening sun. But as he looked closer, he saw something—his reflection. Or at least, what looked like his reflection.
The shadow moved again, slightly out of sync with his own body. His breath caught in his throat. It was him, but not quite. It seemed... separate, as if it moved before he did, predicting his steps before he made them.
He reached out, hesitant, and the moment his fingers grazed the cool leaves of the hedge, a faint pulse hummed beneath his skin, a ripple of energy that sent a shiver up his arm. It felt... familiar, as though something had stirred beneath the surface. But the sensation vanished almost as quickly as it had come.
He stood frozen for a moment, his heart racing, unsure of what he had just witnessed. His reflection—no, the shadow—it had been real. He knew it. Something was changing inside him, and it had started long before today.
His thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice from behind.
"Master Argus, shall I prepare your bath?"
He turned to see Celeste, the head maid, standing a few paces away. She was as beautiful as she was efficient. Her deep chestnut hair was always tied in a neat bun, framing a youthful face with delicate, high cheekbones. Her large hazel eyes, sharp but warm, gave her an air of grace that set her apart from the rest of the staff.
Celeste had been with the family for as long as Argus could remember, and there was something comforting about her presence. She was different from the other maids—more serious, less prone to the charms he could often use on the younger maids. They would smile and laugh at his playful antics, but Celeste was always professional, always a step ahead. Celeste's presence was a constant in the estate, more than just a head maid. She seemed to know the estate's secrets, the quiet whispers among the staff, the delicate balance of power that even Argus had begun to understand. Yet, she never overstepped. She always waited in the background, never far, never too close.
"Yes, Celeste. I'll be there in a moment," Argus replied.
Celeste gave him a respectful nod before turning to leave, her movements precise, as always. Just as she was about to disappear down the corridor, she paused. "By the way, Master Argus, young Lady Lily was asking about you earlier. She seems eager to play again."
Argus blinked, momentarily taken aback. Lily—his younger half-sister—was always eager for his attention, her energy a contrast to the stillness of the estate. While Lily's laughter echoed through the empty halls, her boundless energy lighting up every corner she passed, Argus found himself grounded in the estate's shadowed stillness. He was too aware of the weight of his family, too aware of the power he could feel stirring inside. But Lily didn't need to know that. Not yet.
He nodded. "I'll see her soon."
Celeste smiled softly before disappearing around the corner.
Argus headed toward his room, knowing that Celeste would have already prepared everything by the time he arrived. As he walked, he passed a few of the younger maids, who giggled and offered him sweet smiles as they went about their tasks. He grinned back, knowing that his charm had an effect on them. It was a small game, something he had learned from observing how people reacted to his mother. Power wasn't always about strength—it was about presence, about how you made people feel when you entered a room.
When he entered his room, the bath was already waiting, steam rising from the water. Celeste stood by, her hands folded in front of her, waiting to assist as needed.
"You're very efficient, Celeste," Argus said, smiling up at her. "As always."
She didn't return the smile, but there was a glimmer of something in her eyes—approval, perhaps. "It is my duty, Master Argus."
He slipped into the warm water, feeling the heat ease the tension in his small muscles. Celeste moved with practiced precision, handing him a cloth to wash himself. Argus liked that she never fussed over him the way the others did. She respected his space, and he appreciated that.
As she prepared his nightclothes, Argus spoke again, his voice more thoughtful. "Do you ever think I'll be as powerful as my mother?"
Her hands didn't falter as she folded the cloth neatly. "I believe you will be as powerful as you choose to be, Master Argus."
That answer made him pause. His mother had always spoken of his potential as something inevitable, something destined. But Celeste made it sound like it was up to him—like the power was there, waiting for him to claim it, if he chose.
"What if I don't want it?" he asked, testing her response.
Celeste finally met his eyes, and for a brief moment, her stoic mask slipped. "That is a decision only you can make. But some things, Master Argus, cannot be avoided."
Later that evening, Argus sat in the large, ornate bed in his mother's room. It was an unspoken rule that he slept beside her every night. She insisted on it, though he wasn't sure if she did it for his sake or her own. He knew she loved him intensely—more than he could understand—but he also knew that her need to have him close was part of something larger. Part of her control, part of her way of ensuring that he stayed under her influence.
As he lay beside her, his mother draped an arm over him, pulling him closer. The scent of her perfume filled the room, and he could feel her presence envelop him, like a protective barrier. Some nights, it felt comforting. Tonight, it felt a little heavier.
"Mother?" Argus whispered in the dark.
She shifted beside him, her breath steady and calm. "Yes?"
"Why do you always want me to sleep here?" he asked, though he already knew part of the answer.
His mother's arm tightened around him. "Because you are mine, Argus. And I will always protect what is mine."
There it was. Her claim. Her love and control, bound together in a single statement.
Argus didn't resist. He had learned, even at his young age, that resistance would get him nowhere. He accepted it, embraced it, even. His mother's love was intense, yes, but it was love all the same. He understood that now.
As sleep began to take him, he thought of Celeste's words. Some things cannot be avoided.
His mother's control was one of those things. And as the memory of the strange shadow crossed his mind, Argus realized that there was something else—something stirring within him that could not be avoided either.