A low, flickering candle threw long shadows over the rich room, its golden glow hardly lighting the figure on the big bed. The young man slept peacefully, his silver-edged white robes partly undone, exposing his smooth but toned chest. The air was still—until a sudden, searing pain burst in his chest.
A Youngman body shuddered as a blinding pain ripped through him. His breathing caught, and his eyelids opened to find themselves confronted with an uninterested pair of deep purple eyes looking down upon him—emotionless, as cold as the void.
The blade embedded in his chest gleamed under the candlelight, crimson liquid seeping around the steel. His body screamed in pain, but his heart screamed even louder in betrayal.
His mind refused to accept what was happening. His lips trembled as he forced a single word through his bloodstained mouth, his voice shattered and weak—
"W-why…?"
The lovely form did not respond. Her hold on the sword did not waver, her face impassive. Blood accumulated in Orion's throat, obscuring his sight with a rosy haze. His body chilled. His limbs relaxed. His mind dissipated.
Darkness engulfed him.
—
"Hah!"
Orion leaped out of his bed, his chest heaving and falling quickly. His breath was ragged, his face slick with cold sweat. His hands automatically covered his chest, anticipating the wound—but there was nothing.
A dream. A nightmare.
Not any nightmare—a memory.
His fists clenched as he whispered a name, his voice choked with pain, anger, and yearning.
"…Shia."
The name hung in the air, a specter of the past he could never forget.
Then, His blue eyes wandered to the window, where the golden tones of dawn had already dominated the sky. The birds chirped inside the estate, and outside, he could hear the activity of guards moving quickly, their boots clacking on the stone pavement. Maids hurried from one spot to another, their quiet murmurs merging into the morning orchestra.
Orion creased his brows.
"Why is the mansion so hectic this early?"
Then it dawned on him.
"Fuck… The Blessing Ceremony!"
Forgetting the remaining burden of his dream, Orion hastened towards the bathroom. The icy water rinsed away his sweat and fatigue, his thoughts slowly regaining composure.
After his bath, he donned a spotless white robe adorned with beautiful silver linings, the material flowing over his expansive shoulders. His bluish-white hair, long and luxuriant, remained loose, flowing over his back like silk. He paused to survey himself in the mirror, his blue eyes gleaming with determination.
"Today, I inherit the blessing of Eldora wills… Today, my path begins. Just you wait."
His words lingered in the air, heavy with unyielding resolve, before he went out of his room.
—
Walking down the grand staircase, Orion was greeted by a sight that took his breath away—his mother, Celia, his stepmother, Sera, and his little sister, Elara, standing together, each one of them radiating an elegance that could make any man in Valeria City weak in the knees.
Celia, his birth mother, was a vision of elegance. Her long bluish-white hair flowed down her back like a waterfall, her deep blue eyes reflecting a quiet warmth. She wore an elegant silver-and-blue gown, highlighting her noble beauty.
Next to her stood Sera, his mother's older sister and Orion's stepmother, who was just as beautiful. While older than his birth mother, she had always regarded him as her own child. Her face was the mirror image of Celia's—bluish-white locks, tranquil blue eyes—but her demeanor possessed an element of naughtiness, as if she took pleasure in seeing Orion struggle with her wisecracking insults.
Elara, his stepsister, was at their side, equally beautiful. She unlike her mother and aunt had black hair, but her blue eyes sparkled in the morning light. She was dressed in a sky-blue gown that accentuated her fine features, although her assertive posture conveyed an air of strength.
Orion walked towards them and bowed with respect, "Mother Celia, Mother Sera, Elara."
Celia turned to Orion with a gentle smile. "Son, did you sleep well?"
Orion hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yes, Mother."
Elara beamed. "Brother Orion, you look very handsome today."
A small smirk played on his lips. "And you look beautiful, Elara."
Her cheeks reddened slightly, but she recovered quickly, clearing her throat.
Sera chuckled; her voice playful. "Are you ready for today, my son?"
Orion held her eyes, his blue eyes abrim with determined silence. "Yes, Mother."
Sera looked at Celia and then added, "Then let us not waste any more time. We can't be late."
The four of them approached the gate of the mansion, where a huge gathering of horses and soldiers lay in wait. Their family emblem shone on the armoured knights' breasts, and two beautiful carriages waited at the gate.
Celia spoke to Orion. "Your mother sera and I will ride one carriage. You and Elara will ride the other."
Orion agreed.
The four climbed into their respective carriages, and soon, they were off to the Blessing Ceremony.
—
It was not far to the arena since it was in Market Square, but still, they rode carriages in order to keep up noble propriety.
Orion, on the other hand, did not care about appearances. He had led a life much more lavish than this in the past.
As he looked out the window, his mind wandered.
People swarmed the streets, all heading to the grand Blessing Ceremony. Once a year, this ceremony was held—a major milestone for any coming-of-age youth.
The silence inside the carriage became heavy until Elara's gentle hand landed upon his shoulder.
"Brother?"
The heat of her touch shocked through him like lightning. His body responded automatically, hand flying up to push hers away. The movement was jerky, more reflex than decision.
"Ow! Brother!" Elara winced, eyes wide with shock and pain.
Orion's heart ached. Shame roiled in his chest as he took her hand, his fingers caressing hers with surprise gentleness. "Elara… I apologize. I didn't intend to…" His voice trailed off as he stroked her hand tenderly, his own touch tremulous with embarrassment.
Her cheeks reddened, and she snatched back her hand quickly, fingers scrubbing against the fabric of her dress. "It's okay… I shouldn't have startled you. But… are you really, okay?" Her words were gentle, concern seeping into each utterance.
He smiled, even though the effort of her thoughtfulness made him feel like he was being tightened around the middle. "Yes, Elara. I'm fine."
Elara met his eyes for an instant before inclining her head.
The carriage soon stopped.
Orion looked out the window. "We've arrived."
—
Upon Orion and Elara stepping down from the carriage, their mothers had already arrived.
They were waiting in front of the rear entrance of the great arena, guarded by heavily armoured knights. The air was charged with excitement.
A middle-aged man with short, greyish-white hair and an impassive smile walked towards them. His uniform was well-pressed, his stance authoritative.
"Greetings, Madam Celia, Madam Sera. Greetings, Young Master Orion, Young Miss Elara."
It was Butler Walton, the Vale family's secret dagger and butler, a Peak Adept-level fighter. Few people knew his actual power.
Celia nodded. "Walton, has the Lord come?"
Walton slightly bowed. "Not yet, Madam."
She nodded and said nothing further.
They trailed Walton through the dark corridor lit by magic lamps and candles.
Presently, they moved into a wide and opulent VIP room with a large balcony, half-veiled by elegant drapes. Three elegant chairs were at the center—the largest one for Lord Viscount Theo Vale, and the other two to either side for Celia and Sera.
Shortly afterwards, there was an announcement:
"Viscount Theo Vale has arrived."
The air inside the opulent room was tense. All attention shifted towards the doorway as loud footsteps rumbled through from the hall. A figure appeared, and he carried an air of power and authority about him. He couldn't have been more than thirty, his dark eyes frigid and hard as glass, hair blacker than midnight. He wore a scrupulously kept beard around a sternly elegant face, bringing out his square-cut features and battle-hardened body. Resplendent in a shimmering golden robe, he was the embodiment of dignity and power.
Viscount Theo Vale had arrived.
"Greeting, Lord," was the coordinated salutation of the guards and butlers posted along the corridor.
Lady Sera and Lady Celia said, "Greeting, Lord."
Orion and Elara greeted, "Greeting, Father."
Theo scarce gave them a nod before seating himself.
Looking at the man who had never cared about his own family, Orion could only let out a sigh.
The Blessing Ceremony was soon to begin.