"Azrael!" a sweet voice called. Startled, he turned to see someone running toward him with a big smile—though their features remained unclear.
Suddenly, the person tripped. Azrael rushed to catch them, feeling their soft, yet strangely firm body in his arms, his heart gripped with worry.
The surroundings shifted, and the path the person had come from was now drenched in blood. Azrael attempted to stand, but his body wouldn't obey. Struggling to breathe, he looked down at the lifeless body in his arms, his lips shaking as he tried to utter a word.
"-el.."
"--el! Your Majesty Azrael!"
His eyes shot open as he gasped for air, struggling to catch his breath.
"Are you alright, Sire?" Theodore asked, offering a glass of water. Azrael sat up, clutching his head and struggling to breathe, his eyes wide with fright as he reached for the water.
" Nothing, I might have been dreaming." Azrael said, calming down after drinking the water. He tried to recall it, but the dream faded, leaving only a lingering anxiousness in his heart.
"Very well, Sire. But please do inform me if you feel unwell." Theodore said worriedly. He had been preparing Azrael's clothes in the room for a while when he heard a pained groan. Rushing over, he found his master curled up, clutching his chest in pain.
" I'm fine, do not worry." Azrael said with a smile as he reassured Theodore. He looked outside and saw the sun rising in the sky.
"It's daylight now. Where are we headed today?" Azrael asked, rising from his seat and walking over to the table where breakfast awaited him. He picked up a small box shaped like a milk carton with a straw, but instead of milk, it was filled with blood. He drank from it with obvious pleasure, savoring the taste.
According to Theodore, the box was a special portable food designed for their clan, created to keep them from arousing suspicion in the human world. It was sourced from a hospital and then transferred into the box for easy transport. As Azrael continued eating, he noticed a tray full of envelopes addressed to him. Picking one up, he began to read it, and suddenly realized he had neglected a responsibility during his century-long slumber. The letter was a request from a vampire seeking to turn their lover into one of their kind—something Azrael used to do every decade before he slept.
"Where would you like to go, Your Majesty?" Theodore asked, arranging his master's clothes.
They were in Azrael's manor in City D. His subordinates amassed great wealth for him using his treasures during his slumber, and he now owned numerous properties and businesses. Deep in thought, Azrael reflected on his travels. After meeting Arian in the capital, he had moved from city to city, experiencing new places, yet despite all the new sights and the flying vehicles—known as planes—he felt an overwhelming emptiness—as though something important was missing.
"I believe I saw a University close by on the way to the manor. Would you be so kind as to get me a pass to enter?" Azrael asked, sipping his drink.
"Of course, Your Majesty. I believe it's owned by the Gavyien family, who are under your command. Shall we go now, Sire?"
"Yes, thank you. Also, prepare a banquet for the blood rite. I wish to attend to it immediately."
Theodore nodded and exited the room. As Azrael kept reading the letters, his usual smile disappeared, replaced by a cold, unreadable expression. He would ask Theodore later to prepare a room for these vampires who made such a request.