Adrian’s New Mission
The throne room of the Vampire King was a place of power and dread, its design meant to overwhelm and intimidate even the bravest of visitors. Massive columns carved from dark obsidian framed the hall, their surfaces etched with runes that glowed faintly in the dim light. The ceiling soared high above, an intricate mosaic of blood-red glass depicting the rise of the vampires’ dominion over the realms.
Adrian walked down the long aisle, his footsteps echoing on the polished stone floor. His father, the Vampire King, sat on a throne made of blackened bones and veined with silver, a chilling testament to the victories of their lineage.
“Adrian,” the King intoned, his voice reverberating through the room. It wasn’t loud, but it carried the weight of centuries, a thunderous presence in the silence.
Adrian stopped several feet away and bowed deeply, his head lowered. “Father.”
The King’s crimson eyes fixed on his son, their depths like pools of molten fire. Despite the calm exterior, Adrian could feel the tension in the room, the unspoken demands that hung in the air like a blade poised to strike.
“You’ve been watching them,” the King said, his tone deceptively smooth. “The siblings.”
Adrian straightened but didn’t meet his father’s gaze directly. “Yes, I have.”
“And?” The word carried a subtle menace, a quiet expectation that brooked no evasion.
Adrian hesitated for the briefest moment, carefully considering his response. “They are skilled. Their abilities set them apart from the other students.”
The King leaned forward slightly, the movement small but deliberate. “Do not insult my intelligence with vague observations. You have been trained to see beyond the surface, Adrian. What are they hiding?”
Adrian’s jaw tightened. His father’s ability to strip away pretense was legendary. There was no room for error, no place for loyalty other than to the throne. “They keep to themselves. They avoid rituals that others embrace willingly. Their energy is… different. Wilder.”
“Wilder,” the King repeated, his voice laced with disdain. He rose slowly from the throne, his towering frame casting a long shadow that seemed to engulf the room.
Adrian forced himself to remain steady, even as the King’s presence pressed down on him like a physical weight.
“Do you know why I tolerate that academy, Adrian?” the King asked, his tone cold and sharp.
Adrian shook his head slightly. “For control.”
“Exactly,” the King said, circling his throne like a predator assessing its prey. “It is not a place for education; it is a place for order. The academy molds them, shapes them into loyal subjects who understand their place. But those two… they disrupt that balance. I can feel it.”
The King’s gaze turned piercing, his eyes narrowing. “They are unnatural, Adrian. Their energy stirs something ancient, something dangerous.”
Adrian’s chest tightened. He had noticed the same, but hearing it spoken by the King made it feel like a death sentence hanging over Lyra and Eryon.
“You will watch them closely,” the King continued, his tone brooking no argument. “You will uncover their secrets, their weaknesses, and bring them to me.”
“And if I find nothing?” Adrian asked carefully.
The King stopped, his expression hardening into something colder, more menacing. “You will find something. Or you will face the consequences of your failure.”
Adrian felt the words like a blade pressed to his throat. He knew what his father’s threats meant—they were not empty. The King had ruled through fear and power for centuries, and even his own son was not immune to his wrath.
“Yes, Father,” Adrian said, his voice steady despite the storm roiling inside him.
The King nodded once, satisfied. “Good. Do not disappoint me, Adrian.”
