First Family Trip

"To think that the last one would literally be the last,"

My gaze fixed on the source of the voice, which came from one of the most elegant carriages, where a feminine figure was about to step in. Her voice was laced with irony. Her posture was flawless, and the purple dress she wore seemed to almost shine under the sun. Vanessa. The fourth child, one of my older sisters. She shared an undeniable resemblance to me: long black hair, the same angular family face, but her eyes were brown, and her skin was pale in contrast to my darker complexion.

"I apologize for the delay," I replied politely, tilting my head slightly in a formal gesture. "I stayed up late last night finishing a certain book that I only find here."

Vanessa raised an eyebrow but said nothing, simply adjusting her hair with a neutral expression. Before the silence could stretch further, a deep and boisterous voice interrupted the exchange.

"There's no need to apologize, Alexander. You've arrived just in time," declared another voice, and soon I felt a large, heavy hand rest on my head, ruffling my hair slightly. I followed the hand upwards, finding a tall man with a robust physique.

"..."

I remained quiet for a moment, surprised by the imposing presence of the man, whose face I couldn't see because of the sun.

"What's wrong, Alexander? Normally, when you see me, you start talking nonstop about some new book you've read!" he crouched down to my level, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

Looking him in the eye, I could finally recognize him through Alexander's memories. It was César. The second son of the family, my older brother with the same mother. He had a striking appearance, with strong features, golden eyes, leaning more towards amber that shone with energy, and a permanent smile that exuded charisma. He wasn't overly muscular, but still radiated strength, like someone who could command a room with his presence.

"César!" I instinctively exclaimed, my voice coming out excited and completely childish and sincere. "Good thing you brought it up. Just last night I read a..."

"Hahahaha!" He laughed loudly, cutting me off with his boisterous laughter before I could finish. 

"There's the Alexander I know!" His laugh was contagious, and the smile on his face made the tension in the air disappear.

"Early in the morning, making such a ruckus. It could only be you." A third voice rang out, this time more refined, carrying a tone of superiority. It was Luminus, the eldest son, the first child, and the heir to the family.

Luminus' presence was completely different from César's. Where César was warm and expansive, Luminus was cold and calculating. He was taller, with impeccable posture, wearing a military-style uniform in black and shining midnight blue. His serious expression revealed nothing but authority. His golden eyes gleamed with an almost intimidating intensity, and the long sword at his waist — resembling a katana — caught the attention of anyone nearby.

"Come on, Luminus, relax a bit. That serious face of yours is why the kids don't like you," César joked, looking at him with a teasing smile.

"There's nothing to be done when the children fail to understand the true nobility of..." Luminus began, but his sentence was abruptly cut off. He noticed my gaze fixed on his sword, and his golden eyes narrowed as he assessed me.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. It wasn't fear, but the way he looked at me made me feel like an object under scrutiny. "Is something of interest to you, Alexander?" Luminus asked, his voice carrying a tone that was both a question and a judgment

"Oh, yes, yes!" I responded quickly, raising my hands in surrender. "I just... thought your sword was impressive. It's as elegant as... deadly, I presume."

Luminus kept his gaze for a few more seconds before relaxing his shoulders slightly. "You have good taste, at least," he replied, adjusting his posture and lightly touching the hilt of his sword with pride.

Vanessa sighed, clearly uncomfortable with the exchange. "It's so typical of you two to make a fuss over nothing," she said, adjusting her dress as she entered the carriage.

César shrugged, laughing. "She's just jealous because no one compliments her dresses."

"César, please don't make things worse," I murmured, but I couldn't help but smile at his carefree attitude.

Luminus merely snorted, turning to Vanessa. "Let's go. We're already late enough."

As the rest of the family moved, I felt they all shared something in common: an aura that was impossible to ignore. It was as if invisible swords were pointed at me, sharp and ready to cut any mistake. These were the Dracknum. And now, I was one of them.

I walked toward the carriage assigned to me, trying to maintain my composure. But before I could reach the door, I felt a firm hand grip my arm.

"Where do you think you're going?" Luminus' voice was cold, controlled, but carried an undeniable authoritative tone. His golden eyes fixed on mine, assessing me like a general observing a rebellious soldier.

"To my carriage?" I replied, with a slight hesitation, returning the question in a rhetorical tone.

"No. Father said you will come with us, in the main carriage. Hurry up." He didn't wait for my response, firmly holding my hand as he began to guide me toward the largest of the carriages, the one clearly destined for the patriarch.

My heart immediately quickened. A mix of surprise, apprehension, and curiosity overwhelmed me.

Vanessa, who was already settled in her carriage, raised an eyebrow, her expression slightly displeased. 

César, on the other hand, simply shrugged, as if he had expected this.

As we approached, I saw a knight open the door to the main carriage. Inside, sitting with impeccable posture, was he: the patriarch. The figure who commanded the Dracknum family.

As we approached, I saw a knight open the door to the main carriage. Inside, sitting with impeccable posture, was he: the patriarch. The figure who commanded the Dracknum family.

A newspaper rested in his hands, his golden eyes, like the sun, fixed on the printed words, while a long axe rested on a weapon rack just below the window of the carriage.

His skin was pale, like polished marble, and his face had elegant, imposing features, with a black beard shaped like an anchor. His hair, short and perfectly combed to the left, was a glossy black, each strand seeming to be placed in the right position. He seemed to have been sculpted by divine hands, but there was something about his presence that made my whole body freeze.

My breath caught in my throat. The atmosphere around that carriage felt heavier, as if an invisible force was pushing me back. Each step toward him required superhuman effort, and before I realized it, my feet simply stopped moving.

Luminus immediately noticed. His hand, still holding mine, tensed as he felt my hesitation. He turned to me, his eyes narrowing in confusion. "What's going on?" he asked, his tone more direct than concerned.

My mouth opened, but no words came out. My body trembled slightly, a primal instinct telling me I was standing before something impossible to face. It was as if an untamable beast were there, and no matter how hard I tried, there was no escaping it.

At that moment, as if sensing the confusion in the air, the patriarch's eyes turned toward me just as Luminus tried to understand why I had stopped so suddenly. It was a penetrating, firm gaze, but strangely welcoming, like a predator sizing up its prey, deciding to spare it.

The patriarch's voice, low and controlled, finally broke the silence.

"Interesting."

"Alexander," he continued, calmly folding the newspaper and setting it aside. His voice had a calm tone, but it was like a muffled thunder, laden with authority that made each word echo in my mind.

Still, my body didn't respond. Just as I had seen an aura around Leopold, his aura was a mix of light blue and midnight blue, imposing, as if ready to hunt me at any moment.

My eyes were fixed on his, the eyes that seemed to know everything about me. It was impossible to look away, as if those golden eyes held my soul.

"Alexander," César called, his voice lighter, yet still laced with concern. "He doesn't bite, you know? I mean, not that I know of..." He chuckled. "Come on, little brother. We're not going to stand here all day."

I closed my eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. 'He's just a man,' I thought, trying to convince myself. 'Just a man. And I am also a Dracknum.'

Gathering the little strength I could find, I took a hesitant step toward the carriage. With every movement, I felt the weight on me intensify, but finally, I crossed the threshold and entered.

The patriarch watched me the entire time, his expression remaining neutral, but there was something in his gaze that seemed to say: Good choice. He gestured to the seat in front of him with a small movement.

I sat down in the carriage, trying to keep calm, but there was something oppressive about the atmosphere, as if the air had become thicker, harder to breathe. My hands still trembling, I pressed them against my pants, seeking the comfort of the fabric. 

The carriage was incredibly wide and luxurious, but at that moment, it felt like a tiny, suffocating space, as if the walls were closing in with every passing second. Every detail, from the cushioned walls to the small golden ornaments, seemed designed to be admired, but I could barely absorb it.

Luminus, who had just entered, broke the silence with his firm, direct voice. "Finally," he said, with a tone that, while not particularly affectionate, showed a certain satisfaction. "We're ready to depart."

The patriarch, seated calmly in front of me, merely nodded, signaling to Luminus that the order had been given. Without hesitation, Luminus leaned out of the carriage and shouted, "The patriarch has given the order! Head on toward the State of Dracknum!"

The carriage began to move, the sound of the wheels on the road and the horses trotting echoing faintly inside. I stood there, frozen like a statue, trying not to do anything that would draw attention. 

The silence between me and the patriarch seemed to stretch for minutes, the weight of his presence crushing any attempt at lightness I might have tried to create.

My gaze drifted around the carriage almost reflexively, scanning the environment for distraction. The beautiful axe hanging below the window caught my attention, and the details of the ceiling, carved with immaculate precision, made my mind wander, trying to find something—anything—that would pull me away from the tension that hung in the air. But all of it was in vain, and when my eyes finally returned to the other side of the carriage, our gazes locked.

The patriarch's eyes were golden, like the king's, but there was something more in them, something profound, as if he could see even the darkest corners of my soul. I'm not sure how long we stared at each other, but it felt like an eternity. A strange sensation, as if he was waiting for something from me, or worse, trying to examine me.

"Alexander," his voice was soft, but cutting. It was as if every word he spoke carried an invisible pressure. "Tell me, what do you feel when you look at me?"

I didn't know what to say. I wanted to speak, but the words were caught in my throat. "..."

The silence dragged on too long. I didn't dare look away, though my body screamed to do so. The patriarch's words felt like a flame approaching fuel, ready to explode. But I still didn't know how to react. Deep down, I knew what he wanted from me: an answer, a reaction. And I? I was paralyzed.

Luminus, seeing the discomfort in the air, remained silent. He knew what the patriarch wanted. I could see it in his eyes. He was watching me, curious about how I would respond.

The patriarch, seeming to understand what was going through my mind, smiled faintly, a smile that was not kind, but more like a bitter irony. "Let me rephrase the question," he said, his voice still calm, but now with a heavier weight. 

"What do you feel, what do you see with those eyes of yours when you look at me?"

The question hit harder, more directly, like a blow. 'What do I see? I thought. What I see... is a damn beast, that's what I see!' The thought came suddenly, uncontrollably, but the words never left my mouth. It was as if the idea of describing the feeling in words was impossible.

The silence in the air was oppressive. My fingers, which had been trembling before, now clenched into the fabric of my clothes, as if that was the only anchor I still had. He wouldn't give up, I knew that. And so, with a resigned sigh, I decided I had to face this.

"What do I see when I look at you?" The words came out weak, almost a whisper, but it was the only thing I could say. My words felt like a prayer, a desperate attempt to keep my sanity intact.

The patriarch didn't respond immediately. The tension between us was palpable, as if time had stopped, or at least stretched to the point where every movement, every gesture, felt amplified. His gaze was unyielding, as if he expected me to say exactly what he wanted to hear.

"Yes, what do you see?" he replied, his voice calm but with a hint of curiosity, as if testing my limits.