The familiar, disorienting swirl of solar energy deposited me not on the cold marble of a state hall, but on the plush, deep crimson carpet of my own chambers. The transition was jarring—from the heart of imperial power to the relative sanctuary of my private space. Alexandra had simply decided I was done and teleported me without ceremony. Typical.
Seeking to wash away the lingering psychic weight of the gods and the cloying scent of roses, I ran a bath. The steaming, scented water was a balm. Afterward, I dressed with deliberate care: black trousers, a fitted grey long-sleeved shirt, and a tailored black coat that fell to my mid-thigh. The monochrome palette felt like armor, a statement of control in a world that had just upended my understanding of it.
Knock~ Knock~
The sound was light, familiar. "Come in," I called, smoothing the cuff of my sleeve.
Evelyn entered, pushing a silver trolley laden with enough food to feed a small battalion. The centerpiece, as always, was a mountain of potatoes in various forms—roasted, mashed, fried. If anyone questioned my tuber obsession, my answer was simple and unshakeable: Potatoes are the pinnacle of culinary evolution in any world, and I am their devoted disciple.
"Good morning, young master!" she chirped, her emerald eyes sparkling. "And congratulations on your awakening! I knew you could do it!" Her smile was wide and genuine, a slice of normalcy in the surreal aftermath.
I returned the smile, some of the morning's tension easing. "Good morning, Evelyn. And thank you."
I settled at the small dining table as she began arranging plates with practiced efficiency. "I always knew you were special," she continued, her voice bubbling with pride. "To awaken such a powerful affinity! It's incredible!" A shadow of genuine disappointment crossed her face. "The only sad part is I couldn't be there to see it."
I understood. Maids, no matter how trusted, were barred from the Awakening Hall. Secrecy was the empire's lifeblood. She only knew of the Lightning Affinity, the public face of my transformation. Alexandra and the elders had undoubtedly sworn every witness to silence under pain of something creatively horrific. They were hoarding their new secret weapon, saving the surprise of the Cosmos for a strategically devastating reveal to our rival empires.
Politics, I thought with an inward scoff. The world of Etia was a tense triad: the Empire of Yves, the Empire of Lith, and the Empire of Nox. Currently, an uneasy peace prevailed, forged from the ashes of past wars when a common, monstrous enemy had forced them into a temporary alliance. It was a fragile truce, and my existence was now a new variable in their ancient calculus.
"So," Evelyn leaned in, her tone shifting to mischievous curiosity. "How was the… stabbing? To the heart?"
I paused, a piece of roasted potato halfway to my mouth. Is she seriously asking for a review?
"Arthur didn't hold back," I said flatly. "But I didn't feel a thing." The lie was smooth, effortless. The memory of the cold, violating pain was mine alone to carry.
"Really?" She tilted her head, her eyes narrowing playfully.
I gave a firm nod, focusing on my food.
She leaned closer still, her face now inches from mine. "Reaaaally?"
A vein throbbed at my temple. What is wrong with this woman? "I swear to every god old and new, if you get any closer, I will mash this potato into your face," I growled, brandishing a speared chunk on my fork.
She raised her hands in mock surrender, but the gleam in her emerald eyes was undimmed. "Fine, fine. Spoilsport."
"Tsk. You should start acting your age," I shot back, seizing the offensive.
Her smile froze. "Are you calling me old?"
"Yes," I said, layering on the teasing tone. "When are you planning to get married? The clock is ticking. No one wants someone past their prime."
Her left eyebrow twitched violently. Got her.
"Ahem," she cleared her throat, her composure snapping back with a sly grin. "And how could I possibly marry when I have my baby young master to look after?"
"Since when am I a baby?" I frowned.
She gestured meaningfully to her own generous chest, the smile turning wicked. "If you need milk to grow big and strong, young master, I'm your only source. Babies need their nourishment, after all."
I choked, spitting a mouthful of juice across the white tablecloth. "Are you insane?"
Evelyn's laughter, bright and unrepentant, filled the room. I shook my head, a reluctant smile tugging at my lips. I can never win against her.
After more of her relentless teasing, she finally cleared the dishes, wiped down the table, and left with a final, impish wink. I leaned back in my chair, patting my full stomach, the strange normality of the interaction a comfort.
The peace was short-lived. Another knock, this one different—firmer, more authoritative. Not Evelyn's cheerful rap.
I rose and opened the door. And looked up. And up.
Arthur Morgan stood in the corridor, a six-foot-five monument of composed power. His golden hair was impeccably styled, his face handsome in a sharp, almost sculpted way, but his skin held a pallor that went beyond fairness—it was the white of marble, or of something that didn't need the sun. His smile was wide and pleasant, but it didn't quite reach his golden eyes, giving him the faint, unsettling air of a cheerful corpse. I had to crane my neck to meet his gaze.
Fucking hell. Is he a lamppost? At barely five-foot-five, I felt like a sapling next to a redwood.
"Good morning, Young Master Lucas," he said, his voice a smooth, cultured baritone. "Or should I say, Prince Lucas Tan Zalanta, now that you are officially part of the royal family?" The amusement in his tone was palpable.
The title still felt foreign, an ill-fitting skin. "Young master is fine, Sir Arthur."
He inclined his head. "As you wish." He continued, "My congratulations on your awakening. I regret I could not offer them yesterday; you were… indisposed."
"Thank you. It went smoothly, thanks to your… assistance." Thanks for the mortal wound, you undead bastard.
"Really?" He feigned a look of mild concern. "I do hope I wasn't too harsh."
If driving a dagger through a human heart isn't 'harsh,' then the word has no meaning. "Nah. It was all good."
"I'm glad." He shifted slightly, the movement unnervingly fluid. "It's rather awkward conversing from the hallway. Will you invite me in?"
At first glance, the request might seem odd. But I knew why he asked. Arthur wasn't forbidden from entering my room, but he required permission.
He was, after all, a vampire.
His youthful, twenty-something appearance was a carefully maintained illusion. His unnaturally pale skin, even paler than my own, was the only visible clue. Just like the stories from my old world, vampires here needed an invitation to enter a place considered a home.
And like the myths of my old world, here, a vampire required an invitation to enter a place considered a 'home.' The magic of this world interpreted 'home' broadly—any space you genuinely considered your sanctuary, no matter the size. My chambers were my fortress. Granting him entry now would mean surrendering that barrier permanently. He could come and go as he pleased. The thought was a cold trickle down my spine. He could theoretically drain me dry and vanish… though he wouldn't get far with a solar-powered nuclear bomb of an Empress watching over me.
After a moment's calculation, I nodded. "Sure. Come in."
"Thank you." He stepped across the threshold with the silent grace of a predator entering new territory. He made himself at home, settling into one of the chairs by the table. Even seated, he seemed to dominate the space.
Look at him, getting comfortable. I closed the door and took the seat opposite him.
A heavy silence descended. He simply looked at me, that placid, unnerving smile fixed in place. Why is he just… staring?
"I assume Her Highness has informed you of my purpose here," he finally broke the silence.
"Yes. You're to be my mentor. To guide me in forming both a Mana Core and a Magic Circle." The dual-path was insane, a gamble that most considered a quick route to a spectacular, messy death. One system or the other. Not both.
"Good. And you are aware of the dangers? The statistical probability of catastrophic failure?"
"I am. And my answer remains the same. Persuasion is a waste of your time."
He nodded, a flicker of something like approval in his golden eyes. "Determination is a cornerstone of survival. I admire it." He stood abruptly. "Though, I doubt you will fail."
"Why such confidence?" I asked, intrigued despite myself.
His smile turned razor-sharp. "You have awakened an affinity that people considered to be a myth. Who am I to say you cannot bend the fundamental laws of magic to your will as well?" The logic was circular, but compelling.
"Fair enough." I stood as well, mirroring his action.
He didn't head for the door. Instead, he glided to the large, arched window that overlooked the palace grounds ten stories below. The morning sun streamed in, making his pale skin seem to glow.
"What are you doing?" I asked, walking over to join him, a knot of confusion tightening in my stomach.
He unlatched the window and pushed it open. A crisp, high-altitude wind rushed in, billowing the curtains and carrying the distant scent of gardens and forge-smoke.
"We are going to the training grounds," he stated calmly.
"I know. But why the window?"
He turned to me, and his smile widened into the most brilliantly, terrifyingly bright expression I had ever seen. It was full of perfect, white teeth and boundless, manic enthusiasm.
"We're going to jump."
Oh, hell no. He is utterly, completely nuts.
My fight-or-flight instinct screamed. I took a step back, turning to bolt for the door.
I was too slow.
A hand like a steel vise clamped onto the back of my coat collar. "Forgive me, young master," his voice was a polite murmur right by my ear.
"If you're sorry, then let me go!" I hissed, struggling against his immovable grip.
He ignored me, dragging me effortlessly back toward the open window. The world outside yawned below, a dizzying mosaic of manicured hedges, glittering fountains, and hard, distant flagstones.
"Arthur, don't you da—"
My protest was cut off as he stepped out into empty space, taking me with him.
For a second, there was only the shocking rush of cold air and the gut-lurching sensation of weightlessness. Then, the ground rushed up to meet us with terrifying speed.
A scream, raw and utterly undignified, was torn from my lungs, echoing across the serene palace grounds.
"FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!"
*********
Thank you Okey_1673 and SOhey for the power stones.
One chapter today and maybe three tomorrow.