The hovercar glided through the city, but the lights and towering spires were slowly being replaced by something else entirely. The further they went, the less neon glow reflected off the windows, replaced by the eerie, mist-draped silhouette of a looming structure in the distance.
Sol sat lazily in the seat, arms stretched behind his head, watching as the neon jungle gave way to something far older.
"So," he drawled, casting a glance at the maid, "you gonna tell me where we're actually going, or do I just enjoy the spooky aesthetic?"
She remained calm. "Master Elias prefers personal introductions."
Sol let out a short scoff, shaking his head. "Of course he does."
His gaze flicked back to the massive, gothic structure ahead, the high walls and iron-wrought gates growing closer. There was something too deliberate about it—this wasn't just wealth, this was a statement.
"Gotta say," Sol muttered as the hovercar passed through the towering gates, "he really went all in on the dramatic villain aesthetic."
The maid allowed herself a small, amused smile. "He enjoys tradition."
Sol raised a brow at her but didn't push further. He'd deal with the theatrics when he got inside.
The moment Sol stepped out of the hovercar, his boots met damp cobblestone, a thin veil of mist swirling at his feet. The towering castle ahead was practically ripped out of a gothic fever dream—all sharp spires, intricate stonework, and massive arched windows.
The air felt heavy here, though not in a suffocating way—more like stepping into a place with too much history.
Sol let out a low whistle. "Alright, old man. You got taste."
The maid merely gestured toward the grand entrance, her expression unchanged.
Sol stuffed his hands in his pockets and followed, his gaze flicking to the subtle details around him. The castle wasn't just old and grand—it was watched. The torches lining the pathway burned too steadily, the carved stone gargoyles above angled just right to give the illusion of something more than decoration.
As they stepped inside, the feeling only deepened.
The corridors were vast, lined with towering bookshelves, flickering candelabras, and stained-glass windows that threw eerie, fractured colors onto the polished floors. Despite the castle's size, it was too silent.
Sol muttered under his breath, "Creepy place."
The maid glanced at him, her voice smooth as ever. "You're the first guest in years to say that out loud."
Sol smirked. "Figures."
The massive double doors at the end of the corridor swung open effortlessly, revealing a grand chamber that was equal parts lavish and intimidating.
A dark obsidian table sat at the center, reflecting the eerie glow of the chandeliers hanging above. Despite the gothic surroundings, the room itself was coldly efficient—clean, sharp, and deliberate.
And at the head of the table, waiting like he had all the time in the world, was Elias.
Sol stopped mid-step.
It was one thing to joke about the dramatics of it all—but seeing the old man here, draped in shadows and surrounded by silence, felt... wrong.
For as long as Sol had known him, the old man had never seemed like the kind of person to belong to a place like this.
"You look well, boy," Elias said, his voice deep and steady, just as Sol remembered.
Sol slowly stepped forward, dropping into the chair across from him, leaning back with the easy arrogance of someone trying to take control of the conversation.
"Can't say the same about you, old man," he muttered, studying Elias' face for anything unusual.
The ghost of a smirk played at Elias' lips. "Still sharp."
Sol exhaled through his nose, fingers tapping idly against the chair's armrest. "Alright, so what's this about? I doubt you dragged me all the way here just to chat."
Elias exhaled slowly, folding his hands together.
"I wanted to show my sincerity," he said simply.
Sol scoffed, shaking his head. "People like you don't set up conversations like this just to apologize."
Elias chuckled. "That's true. But I also don't make a habit of owing debts, and I owe you an apology."
Elias gestured toward the black box the maid had given Sol earlier. "That, for instance, is a start."
Sol glanced at the box, then back at Elias.
A long pause.
Then, finally, he sighed and unfastened the clasp, lifting the lid.
Inside, resting in the center of a smooth, velvet-lined interior, was…
Something small.
At first glance, it looked like nothing more than a shadow—a dense, unmoving black mass, about the size of his palm. It wasn't solid, yet it wasn't exactly smoke either—more like a shifting void, something that absorbed light instead of reflecting it.
It didn't move. Didn't breathe. Didn't make a sound.
Sol stared at it, then lifted a brow. "...What am I looking at?"
Elias watched him carefully, as if gauging his reaction. "A Familiar."
The moment he heard that word, a realization hit him like a cold blade to the gut.
Familiars were exceedingly rare, not just creatures but bonds, meant to be lifelong extensions of their masters. And more importantly—
They were almost always associated with vampires.
Sol's gaze snapped up to Elias.
The ageless features. The control in his movements. The way his presence filled a room without effort.
The old man wasn't just some mysterious rich bastard with too much influence.
He was a vampire. A powerful one.
Sol leaned back slightly, tilting his head. "So, you're a vampire." His tone was casual, almost amused, like he was commenting on the weather.
Elias merely smirked. "Observant as always."
Sol exhaled through his nose. "Would've been nice to know that before you started throwing cryptic invitations and pet shadows at me."
Elias chuckled, the sound deep and knowing. "And would that have changed anything?" He leaned back, a rare moment of amusement crossing his otherwise composed expression. "My kind doesn't exactly have the best reputation. Didn't want to scare off my new friend."
He paused, then exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Well, I suppose that was before."
Elias gestured toward the Familiar. "It will wake up once you touch it."
Sol gave the old man a long, considering look before finally speaking. "Why?"
Elias raised a brow. "Why what?"
Sol gestured lazily toward the box. "Why give me something this valuable? We didn't exactly part on the best terms."
Elias was silent for a moment, his gaze steady, unreadable. Then he exhaled, leaning slightly forward. "Because some things can't be left unfinished."
Sol frowned, his fingers drumming against the armrest. "That's real poetic, old man, but it doesn't actually tell me anything."
Elias let out a quiet chuckle. "I thought you liked solving puzzles."
Sol rolled his eyes. "Not when I'm the puzzle."
Elias studied him for a moment before speaking again, his tone even. "This Familiar isn't just some trinket or indulgence. It's a responsibility. And whether you realize it or not, you're the only one suited to bear it."
Sol narrowed his eyes. "Yeah? And why's that?"
Elias tapped a finger lightly against the table. "Because despite how much you pretend otherwise, you're more like me than you think."
Sol scoffed. "That's the worst thing anyone's ever said to me."
Sol's response stunned the old man into silence. Even the maid standing at the side hesitated, her usual composed expression shifting ever so slightly. Then, all at once, Elias threw his head back and laughed—a real, full-bodied laugh that echoed through the chamber.
He laughed so hard he had to grip the armrest of his chair, shaking his head between gasps. "Ah, Sol, you truly are something else. I swear, no one has ever quite managed to surprise me the way you do."
The maid merely sighed, muttering under her breath, "Unbelievable."
Sol shook his head, glancing down at the Familiar still resting in the box. It remained still, waiting. "You keep talking in riddles, but you haven't actually answered the question. Why give this to me?"
Elias sighed, as if debating how much to say. "Because it belongs to you. Whether you accept that now or later makes no difference to me."
Sol gave him a skeptical look. "You really expect me to believe that?"
Elias' smirk faded slightly, his gaze turning more serious. "Believe what you want. But if you reject it now, you may not get another chance."
Sol sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Fine," he muttered, before reaching down and touching the Familiar.
The moment his fingers met its surface, warmth spread through his chest—a slow, unfamiliar sensation, not physical heat, but something deeper, something intangible. It wasn't invasive or overwhelming, just… there. A connection forming, quiet but undeniable.
The Familiar stirred.
The black mass shifted, its form stretching and twisting with liquid fluidity. Its body remained an amorphous shadow, flickering like wisps of smoke, but now… it was awake.
The creature lifted its formless head, two faint, white slits opening where eyes should be. It blinked once, then twice, scanning its surroundings before finally locking its gaze onto Sol.
Sol barely had time to process what was happening before the moment their eyes met, something clicked.
It wasn't just sight. It was understanding—a recognition that shouldn't have been possible. He felt it deep inside him, like a whisper in the back of his mind, something ancient yet familiar, something that knew him.
Then, as if sealing their bond, a faint ring-like mark materialized on the skin of his finger, black as ink, forming a smooth, unbroken band. The moment it appeared, the Familiar tilted its head, as if studying it too.
Sol exhaled sharply. "Well. That's new."
Elias leaned forward slightly, watching the interaction with an air of satisfaction. "Familiars are not mere creatures. They are extensions of their bonded partner. This one—" he gestured toward the small shadowy form, "—is still a child. It will grow, and as it does, it will take on aspects of you. Your personality, your strengths, even your weaknesses."
Sol raised an eyebrow, glancing at the small shifting mass. "So what, it's going to turn into a sarcastic smartass?"
Elias chuckled. "If that's what it learns from you, then perhaps."
The Familiar, as if sensing the discussion, blinked its glowing white eyes again, tilting its head in curiosity before drifting in the air slightly, as if testing its own movement. Sol watched it, mildly fascinated but still wary. "And the ring?" he asked, lifting his hand slightly to inspect the smooth, dark band now tattooed onto his finger.
Elias nodded. "That is your bond mark. It is a link between you and your Familiar. You can call it forth, dismiss it, and even store it within yourself. When you wish for it to retreat, simply will it back into the mark."
Sol narrowed his eyes, glancing between Elias and the creature. "That easy, huh?"
Elias smirked. "Nothing about a Familiar is ever 'easy.' But control will come in time."
Sol exhaled, watching the small being continue to move around him. "Great. Another thing to babysit."
The Familiar, in response, floated up slightly before settling lightly on Sol's shoulder, as if testing its perch. It remained there, silent but observant, its body flickering like a living shadow. Sol resisted the urge to sigh.
Elias simply watched with amusement. "You'll find it to be more useful than you think."
Sol arched a brow as the Familiar shifted again, its form rippling between shapes before finally settling into something more distinct—a small, sleek black cat. It stretched its tiny limbs before curling up comfortably against his shoulder, its weight barely noticeable but its presence undeniable.
Sol blinked at the change. "Huh. So you do have a preferred form."
He could feel it now—not just its presence, but its emotions. There was no language, no words, but an understanding flowed between them. A quiet exhaustion, a need for rest after its sudden awakening. Sol frowned slightly as realization dawned.
"Took a lot out of you, huh?" He muttered, lifting a hand and hesitating for a second before sighing and gently scratching behind the cat-like shadow's ears. "Sorry, buddy. Didn't mean to push you."
The Familiar let out a soundless purr, its smoky form flickering slightly, as if it appreciated the gesture. Elias, watching this interaction, smiled slightly. "It seems I was right to entrust him to you."
Sol gave him a skeptical look. "You keep saying that, but what exactly are the responsibilities here? Feels like there's a catch."
Elias exhaled, folding his hands together. "Familiars are rare for a reason. They are not just companions; they are emotional creatures, deeply tied to their bond. If neglected, if abused, they either die before reaching adulthood or turn vicious."
Sol glanced down at the tiny creature curled up against him, its small body rising and falling in a steady rhythm. The thought of something like this being abused—or worse, discarded—left an uncomfortable weight in his chest.
Elias continued, "They will reflect you, in time. If you treat it well, it will become something formidable. If you don't… well, let's just say not every Familiar ends up a loyal ally. Some become nightmares."
Sol rolled his eyes. "Right. So don't be a terrible person. Got it."
Elias smirked. "I'd say that's a good start."
He leaned back slightly, his sharp gaze settling on Sol with something unreadable behind his eyes. "Now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's move on to why I really brought you here."
Sol, who had been idly scratching behind the Familiar's ears, barely glanced up. "Oh great, here comes the catch."
Elias chuckled. "Not a catch. An offer."
Sol gave him a skeptical look. "I swear, if you try to rope me into some elaborate vampire conspiracy—"
Elias raised a hand in mock defense. "Nothing of the sort. I simply want to propose a partnership. If not that, then at the very least, employment."
Sol blinked. "Employment?"
Elias nodded. "Yes. You see, you have a rather impressive talent for getting yourself tangled in chaos. And while that's entertaining to watch, I'd prefer not to be on the wrong side of whatever mess you end up causing next."
Sol leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. "So… what? You want to hire me just so you can keep an eye on me?"
Elias smirked. "Let's call it… ensuring mutual interests remain aligned."
Sol narrowed his eyes. "And what job exactly are you offering? Because I'm not interested in being someone's errand boy."
Elias waved a hand dismissively. "Nothing of the sort. A simple position, really. You'd be a bartender."
Sol blinked again. "...A bartender."
"Yes. At one of my establishments. No tricks, no hidden agendas. Just a steady job, a bit of stability, and perhaps a few opportunities to observe the more interesting individuals passing through."
Sol stared at him. "You—you really brought me here to offer me a bartending job?"
Elias grinned. "You look like you need something stable. A bit of normalcy, if such a thing exists for you."
Sol scoffed. "And if I say no?"
Elias shrugged. "Then we part ways as amicably as possible. But I'd rather have you as an ally, Sol. If not a friend, then at least someone whose path doesn't run counter to mine."
Sol considered him for a long moment before leaning back in his chair. "You don't do things without a reason. So what is it?"
Elias exhaled, his expression turning serious. "The city is changing. I can feel it, and I suspect you do too. The wrong people are taking an interest in things best left untouched. And you? You have a habit of standing in the eye of the storm. I'd rather not be standing against you when that storm breaks."
Sol rubbed his temple. "I really do have a talent for attracting nonsense, don't I?"
Elias smirked. "That's putting it mildly."
Sol exhaled through his nose, tilting his head back slightly. "Look, I appreciate the offer, but I'm not looking for a job right now. Or anything, really. I just want to lay low and rest until I get off this ship."
Elias studied him for a moment, his expression unreadable. "You're tired."
Sol huffed a dry laugh. "You have no idea."
Elias nodded slowly. "No one's expecting anything from you, Sol. That's the point. There's no trap, no obligation. Just an open door if you ever feel like stepping through it."
Sol gave him a skeptical look. "So you're really just offering me a place behind a bar? No secret missions, no ulterior motives?"
Elias smirked. "None that you need to worry about."
Sol scoffed. "That's reassuring."
Elias chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "I'll take that as a 'maybe later.'"
Sol didn't answer immediately. Instead, he glanced at the Familiar curled up on his shoulder, its small form flickering faintly. He reached up, absentmindedly stroking its head, feeling the bond between them hum with a quiet, steady presence.
"I'll think about it," Sol finally said, voice softer than before. "But for now? I'm off-duty."
Elias gave a small, knowing nod. "Fair enough."
Sol, however, didn't let it drop. He leaned forward, fixing Elias with a sharp, questioning stare. "But really—why are you doing all this? From what I know, vampires are a pretty powerful race, and the older they are, the stronger. So forgive me if I don't buy that you can't handle some dumb kid like me with your old ass."
Elias raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Flattering. And yet, despite your self-deprecation, you still managed to make enough noise that I took an interest. That alone says something."
Sol scoffed. "Yeah? And what exactly does it say?"
Elias huffed a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Sol, you're still too young to pose any real harm to me. If I wanted to stop you, I could do it without lifting a finger."
Sol narrowed his eyes. "So what, you're not scared of me?"
Elias leaned back, gaze turning distant. "No. I'm bored. You don't live for centuries without realizing that truly interesting people are few and far between. And the moment I met you, I knew—you're one of them."
Sol arched a brow. "So you're just a really old, really bored guy collecting weirdos for entertainment?"
Elias chuckled. "That's one way to put it. But I prefer to think of it as surrounding myself with unpredictable variables. It makes existence... less tedious."
Sol scoffed, crossing his arms. "So you're just a friendless vampire trying to recruit drinking buddies? That's tragic."
Elias smirked, tilting his head. "Well, if you're volunteering—"
"Absolutely not."
Elias let out a low, amused sigh. "Shame. You'd be entertaining company."
Sol exhaled, shaking his head. "And here I thought you were about to hit me with some deep, ancient wisdom. But really, you're just lonely."
Elias' smirk softened into something more thoughtful. "Maybe. Maybe not. Either way, I've taken an interest in you, and I don't take such things lightly. Call it selfishness, call it curiosity—either way, I'd rather have you as an ally than watch from a distance."
Sol clicked his tongue, letting the words settle before sighing. "Guess I should be flattered, huh?"
Elias' smile faded just a touch. "I like to stay ahead of the game, Sol. I've seen what happens when someone like you—someone who bends fate instead of following it—is left unchecked. It gets messy."
Sol crossed his arms. "So what, you're trying to tame me? Make sure I don't cause any more 'messes' that inconvenience you?"
Elias chuckled, shaking his head. "No, boy. I'm not foolish enough to think you can be tamed. But guided? Nudged in the right direction? Now that's a different story. And if I can't do that, then at the very least, I'd rather not be standing against you when things inevitably spiral out of control."
Sol clicked his tongue again, eyes narrowing. "You keep talking like you know what's going to happen."
Elias leaned back, eyes gleaming with something unreadable. "I have my suspicions. And so do you, whether you admit it or not."