Deep within the bowels of the Ebon Crypt, where sunlight had long since been forgotten and shadows breathed like living things, Marlik sat alone on his obsidian throne.
The air was thick with ancient sorcery—spells so foul they twisted the stone walls with runes that pulsed red like infected veins. Black candles floated midair, casting ghostly glows that danced across the chamber like restless spirits.
Before him hovered a mirror of voided silver, rippling like disturbed water. Within it, an image took form: a young boy with silken hair kissed by moonlight, his eyes a shimmering storm of gold and violet.
Caelum.
Marlik leaned forward, his withered fingers curling at the edge of the viewing basin, his lips twitching into a delighted smirk.
One of his faithful wraiths, robed in shadow and chained in silence, bowed low before him.
"Speak," Marlik commanded, his voice like poisoned silk.
"My lord," the servant rasped, "we have confirmed the child's heritage. He is… beyond rare."
Marlik's eyes burned.
"Go on."
"He is the son of the Duke, Alaric Vellaria Vaelthorne, wielder of the forgotten elven bloodline and the vampire magic. And the child's mother is Seraphine, daughter of the Carellos… bearer of lycan strength, royal witchcraft, and vampire power."
The servant paused as the mirror shimmered again, now showing Seraphine's previous battle—when she obliterated the entire Council in under five minutes, flames of celestial fury pouring from her hands, her scream shaking the skies.
Marlik chuckled.
"No wonder the stars tremble around him," he murmured.
The mirror shifted once more—now showing Caelum walking beside both of his parents, his aura flickering with unstable but vast power. A hint of godhood throbbed beneath the surface of his soul, untapped, raw, pure potential.
Marlik stood slowly, his cloak of shadow unraveling like ink in water.
"That child…" he whispered, eyes gleaming like twin suns of madness. "He is the convergence. Vampire. Witch. Lycan. Elven. Divine."
He spread his arms, laughter rising like thunder.
"A body forged by the gods themselves!" he cackled. "No curse can touch him. No seal can contain him. That boy... is perfect."
He whirled toward his servants, voice booming.
"Prepare the Ritual of Siphoning. Ready the Chains of Dusk. Call forth every last specter, wraith, and corrupted fae that still remembers my name."
The room darkened even further, as if reality itself recoiled from what he was becoming.
Marlik's smile turned feral.
"I will wear his skin like royalty. I will make his soul kneel. With that body, I will be more than legend—I will be a god among gods."
He turned back to the mirror, now showing Caelum laughing with Carlos and sparring with Alaric in the distance.
Marlik's eyes narrowed, a flicker of hunger and hatred tightening his jaw.
"Soon, little prince," he whispered. "Very soon, you will be mine."
As his laughter echoed through the chamber like cracking glass, the flames around the chamber turned black.
And somewhere far above, in the stillness of the night, Caelum shivered—as though the shadows themselves had spoken his name.
The moon hung heavy over Ravenshade, casting silver trails through the ancient windows of the manor. Most of the household slept, lulled by the sanctuary's wards and the peace they believed they had reclaimed.
But Caelum couldn't sleep.
He sat by the tall window in his room, legs curled up, chin resting on his knees. The night was unusually quiet. No breeze. No owls. Even the trees seemed to hold their breath.
Something was wrong.
His heart beat faster—irregular, like a drum played by nervous hands. He placed his palm over his chest. It wasn't fear.
It was instinct.
His magic, the mixture of so many bloodlines, hummed within him like a living thing. Normally warm and golden, it now flickered, as if fighting something unseen. A ripple of cold danced across his spine, and the light from the moon suddenly dimmed.
Then came the whisper.
Faint. Too faint to hear fully. But it crawled along his skin, slipping into his mind.
"You are mine."
Caelum gasped and bolted to his feet. His reflection in the window stared back at him—but for a blink, it smiled when he wasn't.
He stumbled back.
"No…" he muttered. "No, no, no."
He clutched his temples. It felt like something had touched the edge of his soul. A pressure. A shadow. A presence that didn't belong to this world. He ran from his room, down the long corridor of Ravenshade, not even realizing his magic had begun to spark—glowing silver vines crawling down his arms.
"Father!" he called, nearly slipping on the polished floor as his bare feet rushed toward the War Room.
The door burst open as Alaric turned, startled.
"Caelum?"
Behind him, Carlos looked up from a map of the sanctuary's weak points. But both men stopped when they saw the light pulsing from Caelum's body—wild, unstable, desperate.
"He was watching me," Caelum whispered, breathless. "I felt him."
Alaric reached him in an instant, kneeling down and placing both hands on Caelum's shoulders. His voice was calm but commanding.
"Who?"
Caelum looked up, eyes wide, shimmering with fright and fury.
"Marlik."
Carlos swore under his breath and closed the door behind them.
Alaric's jaw tightened. "What did he do?"
"He didn't hurt me. But… he tried something. He was inside. I felt him. Like a shadow crawling in my head. He whispered. And my reflection—" Caelum choked. "My reflection moved on its own."
Carlos moved to reinforce the windows with a binding sigil. "He's probing you. Trying to test the limits of your soul. Of your magic."
Caelum's breathing slowed, but his aura still glowed faintly.
"I thought the wards would keep us safe," he whispered.
Alaric pulled his son into an embrace. "They will. But he's getting bolder. And now, we know he's watching."
Carlos glanced between the father and son.
"We don't wait anymore," he said. "If he's testing us, we test him back. We reinforce every crack. We lure him into thinking we're afraid—then when he strikes, we strike harder."
Alaric looked down at Caelum. "This is far from over. But you did the right thing. You sensed it. And you told us."
Caelum looked up. "I'm not afraid."
Alaric smiled. "Good. You shouldn't be. You're not alone."