Shadowed

Astra slowly made his way back to the banquet, the soft glow of the twilight mingling with the light of lanterns and candles that illuminated the lavish hall.

The music swelled around him, and as he passed the grand archways, he couldn't help but appreciate the spectacle laid out before him.

Nobles from all walks of life, adorned in the finest garments, mingled and chatted in circles of laughter, while others drifted gracefully to the floor in well-practiced waltzes and dances. The entire scene felt like a dream, a world of polished perfection that seemed a little too unreal, too extravagant to belong to someone like him.

Yet, here he was—Astra Noctis of House Night, hiding under the Umbrella of House Shadow, lost in the shimmer of House Dune's grandiosity.

His attention was pulled back to the crowd, his gaze sweeping over the people as he soaked in the beauty of the scene. His eyes wandered for a moment, but the familiar sight of Seraphine caught his attention once again.

As she walked music began to play, a beautiful melody filled the banquet hall and the atmosphere turned romantic

A rank four from House Dune, Serpahines brother or cousin, Astra didn't know or care to know took the first dance, he was of of average height and had deep blue eyes, and blonde hair as golden as the desert sands.

Astra however never took his eyes off seraphine

She moved gracefully through the crowd, a smile playing at the corners of her lips. Her presence seemed to draw everyone's eyes, and Astra couldn't help but notice the way her aura radiated, commanding attention with every step she took.

Seraphine's sapphire eyes met his, and before he could even process what was happening, she was making her way toward him.

She stopped right in front of him, a mischievous glint in her eyes, and with a playful tone, she said, "Astra, you've been quite the center of attention tonight. I'm afraid I'll have to steal you away from all your admirers."

Astra blinked, taken aback by her sudden advance. "The bishop told me to maintain a low profile and now I'm the center of attention," he muttered under his breath. He could feel a slight hint of frustration, though he masked it well, hiding behind his calm demeanor.

"Careful, Astra," she teased, a soft laugh escaping her lips as she held out her hand. "You're far too interesting to remain in the shadows forever. Come, let's dance."

Without much time to protest or make a calculated escape, Astra found his hand caught in hers, his body involuntarily following her lead as she pulled him toward the dance floor. The moment their hands met, Astra couldn't help but feel the subtle weight of expectations.

He had no idea how to dance. In fact, he'd never bothered to learn the intricacies of such nobility customs. But here he was, the center of attention, and Seraphine—dangerously poised and deceptively sharp—was leading him.

"Do try to keep up," she said with a grin, effortlessly guiding them into position.

Astra stood stiff for a moment, all his instincts screaming that he would embarrass himself, but then something strange happened. As Seraphine led, Astra's focus narrowed to her movements, studying the sway of her body, the precision of her steps.

The training he'd undergone in the ways of the Shadow Sword, all the lessons in fluidity and adaptability, began to click in his mind.

Shadow Sword was all about mirroring, about becoming one with the rhythm of battle, adapting to every move. It wasn't about knowing every step in advance, it was about feeling the rhythm in your body and responding to the flow of the moment. And in this case, the moment was Seraphine's graceful movements.

Astra began to mirror her, almost instinctively. His feet, once hesitant, began to follow her steps. His body shifted in time with hers, adapting to the rhythm of the dance.

The movement flowed between them, and for a fleeting moment, Astra forgot the world around him—the glittering lights, the curious eyes of the guests, the hidden danger of House Dune. It was just him and Seraphine, dancing together. 

The two of them, both strikingly beautiful in their own ways, Astra, tall and lithe, with violet eyes Pale skin and curly hair as black as the night sky, Seraphine, a head shorter than Astra, with sapphire blue eyes, and raven black hair and skin so pale it was almost like snow, moved across the floor, a perfect balance of grace and poise. Astra, his usual commanding presence softened by the dance, was every bit as captivating as Seraphine.

The crowd seemed to step back, enchanted by the way they moved, their chemistry undeniable. Even the most experienced dancers took notice of the way they moved together, the flawless synchronization that was more than just technique—it was something more primal, something that couldn't be ignored.

The pair looked like an angelic couple intertwined in a graceful dance

As the music drew to a close, the dance ended as seamlessly as it had begun. The applause of the onlookers was a distant echo in Astra's ears, and he couldn't help but feel a rush of pride and embarrassment at the unexpected breakthrough.

He had danced—no, he had learned—in the span of a few minutes, a moment of clarity born from his chaotic training.

Seraphine let go of his hand, her smile widening as she gave him a mock bow. "Not bad, Astra. You may be more capable than you let on."

Astra simply smirked, trying to mask the thrill of his unexpected success. "I guess I just needed the right partner." His gaze flickered to hers, and there was a momentary flicker of something more between them.

The crowd began to dissipate as the music slowed and the banquet slowly wound down. Astra, now once again aware of the eyes upon him, made his way through the sea of noblemen and women, his heart still pounding with the exhilaration of the dance.

His eyes eventually landed on the figure he had been avoiding—the bishop. Standing at the edge of the room, arms crossed, watching Astra with an amused expression, the man's aura radiating authority and something else. Astra felt a slight tug of unease, but he pushed it down as he approached him.

The bishop's lips quirked upward in an almost knowing smile. "Well, well, Astra. You certainly know how to make an impression." There was disbelief in his voice, but it was tempered with a sharp amusement.

Astra met his gaze head-on, his expression unreadable. "Impressions are all anyone ever expects, aren't they?"

"To dance like that with a Royal Princess, gods what an impression" the bishop smiled still in disbelief

The bishop studied him for a moment longer, but before anything more could be said, the banquet hall buzzed with renewed energy.

More conversations began to fill the air, but for a moment, Astra stood there, under the weight of the bishop's eyes, wondering just how much longer he could keep playing this dangerous game.

As Astra and the bishop left the grand ballroom, the night air felt cool against Astra's skin, the weight of the evening's events still settling in his chest.

Seraphine's gaze followed them as they walked, her expression unreadable, and Astra couldn't help but feel a slight unease at how much attention he was drawing.

"I thought we were supposed to keep a low profile," Astra said with a teasing smile as they exited the estate, the distant hum of music still vibrating through the walls.

The bishop, his face serious but with a hint of amusement, glanced at Astra, his long coat billowing behind him as they moved through the bustling streets of Duskfall. "Low profile?" He chuckled.

"In a room full of power players I waltzed In there trying to make an impression for my house as the only one sent there, yet I see this pretty princess talking to another pretty princess then you proceed to dance with said princess infront of everyone while I told you to keep a low profile...yeah we did a great job." the bishop said degradingly not seeming to care.

He turned to face Astra, his eyes gleaming with a cold, calculated light. "But now… it's time to meet someone who knows far more than we do."

Astra raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. "Who exactly?"

The bishop's lips curled into a slight smirk. "The Saint."

Astra's pulse quickened at the mention of a Saint. House Shadow's power wasn't just about their bishops and their warriors; the Saints were the highest of the high, rank five individuals who were almost legendary in their abilities they are true demi-gods, a step below real angels. Astra knew this was someone he had to take seriously.

"Is this Saint someone I should be worried about?" Astra asked, though he had no intention of backing down from this.

The bishop stopped in his tracks for a moment, his eyes scanning the street, ensuring no one was eavesdropping. When he spoke again, his voice was quieter, tinged with a sense of warning. "Worried? Perhaps.

But more importantly, you should be respectful. This Saint is the one who governs this territory, the one who answers only to the highest in House Shadow and not only that but they are a rank five, a genuine existence closer to divine than they are mortal. They're not just powerful—they're wise, and deeply connected to the heart of our house's mission."

Astra nodded. So, this was someone who could possibly help him understand more of what was happening with his magic, his bloodline, and perhaps even the strange phenomenon surrounding the stars. "Where are we meeting them?"

"Not far," the bishop answered. "We'll be heading to the estate now. I'll brief you more on the way."

As they made their way down the cobblestone streets, the towering structures of the city's upper districts rising on either side, Astra couldn't help but feel the weight of the situation. House Dune's ball, Seraphine's flirtations, and the unexpected revelation of his lineage were all behind him now, but ahead loomed something far more significant—a meeting with a being whose very title spoke of unrivaled power.

The bishop continued to speak as they walked, his voice low and commanding. "The Saint is one of the few who truly understands the balance of power in this world. It is said that when the Saint speaks, even the highest lords listen. But the Saint does not waste their time. So when you meet them, remember this: every word, every gesture you make will be scrutinized."

Astra's brow furrowed. "And you're bringing me to meet this person because...?"

The bishop shot him a glance, a glimmer of approval flickering in his eyes. "Because you've caught their attention. The last heir of House Night and the last of the stars—they will want to know who you are, what you seek, and whether you're fit to walk the path they have set before you."

Astra was silent for a moment, taking in the gravity of the bishop's words. He had come to this city to learn and grow stronger, to understand his magic, and uncover the secrets surrounding House Night. But now, it seemed like his journey had just taken a far more dangerous and complicated turn.

As they reached the towering gates of House Shadow's estate, the atmosphere seemed to change, the air itself growing thicker with an undeniable presence of power.

The bishop gestured for Astra to follow him through the gates, the guards giving a respectful nod as they passed.

Inside, the estate felt as imposing as it was beautiful—dark stone walls, with intricately carved arches and statues of previous House Shadow leaders.

The shadows themselves seemed to shift here, clinging to the corners, and Astra couldn't shake the feeling that something watched him closely from the darkness.

They passed through several halls, until the bishop stopped before an ornate door. "Here we are," he said. "Prepare yourself. This is the threshold of power."

Astra took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves. This was it. The Saint. The true power of House Shadow. He wasn't sure if he was ready for what came next, but he was determined to face it head-on.

As Astra followed the Bishop deeper into the estate, his eyes flicked to the various figures moving through the halls. The shadows seemed to wrap around them like a protective cloak, each step echoing in the quiet grandeur of the estate. The whispers of servants and workers filled the space, but no one dared to speak too loudly. This was House Shadow, after all, and in these halls, power was a language spoken without a single word.

Finally, after a few moments of silent walking, Astra turned his attention back to Alistair, who was leading the way with an effortless grace. His footsteps never faltered, and he walked with a poise that matched his position. The bishop's aura was subtle, yet it sent a ripple of discomfort through Astra's senses. Even with his training, Astra couldn't ignore the pressure that came from being so near someone of his caliber. His power was there, beneath the surface, a quiet hum of untapped potential.

"Wait," Astra said, pausing for a moment, his voice a little less steady than usual. "I just realized... I've never asked your name, Bishop."

the Bishop stopped mid-step, his dark eyes shifting toward Astra with a flicker of amusement in them. He studied Astra for a moment before answering.

"Ah, I suppose that's fair," he replied smoothly, his lips curling into a faint smile. "I am Alistair Tenebrous, Bishop of House Shadow, at your service." His voice was smooth, but there was an undercurrent of power in every syllable. The way his name rolled off his tongue made it clear he wasn't just anyone—he was someone to be reckoned with.

Astra took the name in quietly, trying not to let his surprise show. Alistair Tenebrous. The name sounded like it was made for someone of immense power—someone who could command the shadows as easily as breathing.

And in Astra's brief encounter with him, he could already sense that. There was a sharpness to Alistair's aura, a sense of control over every part of himself, and a presence that seemed to make the world around him feel... smaller.

Astra's thoughts raced. He couldn't afford to let his guard down around Alistair. The bishop was a rank four, a true demi-god in every sense of the word.

There was a depth to his strength that Astra knew he could never underestimate. If he was to walk the path of shadows, he would need to learn from people like Alistair—people who had already mastered their powers. But for now, he could only watch and learn.

As they continued walking through the estate, Astra found himself increasingly aware of the people around them. Even though most of the rooms were dimly lit, the shadows themselves seemed to shift and dance in ways that were nearly impossible to follow. It was as though they had a life of their own, bending and curving in response to the presence of those who walked through them.

Astra's heart raced as he realized that House Shadow's estate was alive with magic, its very walls breathing with the energy of those who inhabited it.

Finally, Alistair led him to a quiet, open room—a small sitting area lined with velvet chairs and intricate tapestries. A fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting a warm, flickering glow across the stone walls. Astra was struck by how peaceful the room felt compared to the tense, electric atmosphere of the rest of the estate.

Alistair turned to Astra, his gaze now somewhat more serious. "You're quiet. I can tell you're thinking... about your position here."

Astra nodded slowly, leaning against the wall. "I just—" He hesitated. "I don't know what I expected, but it's not what I thought. The power here... it's suffocating. Every time I look around, I feel like I'm being watched. I never thought House Shadow would be this—this intense."

Alistair's smile deepened, and there was something almost approving in his eyes. "You're getting it," he said softly. "House Shadow doesn't allow you to forget it. You're never truly alone here. We are always watching. We always know."

Astra shivered at the thought, his gaze flicking to the shadows once again. He couldn't shake the feeling that the very walls of the estate were pressing in on him, listening, waiting.

"But," Alistair continued, "you have potential. I can see it in you, Astra. You might not know it yet, but you're already becoming something more than you were before."

Astra didn't respond right away. He wasn't sure how to respond. He'd never been told something like that before. Even the bishop—despite his calm exterior—was watching him like an interesting puzzle piece, waiting to see if it would fit into the larger picture of House Shadow.

"More than I was before," Astra muttered to himself. He didn't quite understand what Alistair meant. But somewhere deep inside him, he knew that there was truth in the words. If he was going to survive here, if he was going to make it through the political games and the dangers of this new world, he would need to adapt. He would need to grow into whatever potential Alistair saw in him.

"So what now?" Astra asked, shaking himself from his thoughts.

Alistair raised an eyebrow. "Now, we meet the others," he said, his voice as calm as ever. "And you see what House Shadow truly has to offer. Your journey has only just begun, Astra. I suggest you make the most of it."

As they turned to leave the room, Astra could feel the weight of Alistair's words pressing against him, like the walls of the estate itself were closing in. House Shadow had a plan for him—a plan he wasn't yet able to see—but one thing was certain. He couldn't afford to let his guard down, not for a single moment.

And as they walked deeper into the heart of the estate, Astra couldn't help but feel that he was stepping into something far greater than he had ever imagined.

Astra's heart raced as Alistair led him down the dimly lit hallways, his footsteps echoing in the vast silence of House Shadow's estate.

The walls seemed to close in around him as he drew closer to the conference room, each step heavier than the last. The air itself felt thick with power, an almost palpable pressure weighing on his chest.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and he couldn't shake the feeling that every shadow was watching him, every stone in the building attuned to his presence.

When they reached the door to the conference room, Alistair paused, his hand hovering over the handle for a moment before he turned to Astra with a rare, serious expression.

"Do not falter," Alistair said softly, his eyes narrowing slightly. "What you're about to face will be no easy task. You are standing before beings who have seen lifetimes, who have shaped entire worlds. Your every move will be scrutinized.

You are not just a visitor here, Astra. You are House Night's last heir, and they will expect much from you."

Astra swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing. He wasn't sure if it was the tension of the moment or the weight of Alistair's words, but a part of him felt as though he were walking into the heart of a storm.

He could feel it—the shifting auras, the subtle, dangerous currents of power that surrounded the room. Each of those auras felt like a heavy weight pressing down on him. The room was no longer just a meeting space—it was a battlefield, and Astra was the prey.

Alistair opened the door, and Astra was greeted by a sudden chill. The temperature seemed to drop as he stepped into the room, and he immediately felt the vast power emanating from within. His heart skipped a beat, and for the first time since arriving at House Shadow, he felt truly out of place.

Inside the room, the three figures stood in stark contrast to the surrounding shadows. The first to catch Astra's attention was a towering man, his dark robes billowing like the night itself. His aura was immense—dense, oppressive, a true rank four bishop. Astra felt the weight of his scrutiny from across the room, but the man didn't even spare him a glance. Instead, he stood there silently, his presence like a silent storm on the horizon, never showing emotion, never reacting.

Beside him stood another bishop, her posture equally imposing, her features sharp and regal. Like her counterpart, she gave no acknowledgement to Astra, her eyes fixed on something in the distance.

But Astra could feel her gaze, the quiet examination of his every movement, his every breath. She didn't have to speak to make it clear that she was judging him, as though his very existence was being weighed and measured.

And then, there was the saint.

He was the one who truly commanded the room. His presence filled the space with an overwhelming energy, one that seemed to warp the very air around him. Alistair introduced him as Valerius Umbra of House Shadow and he stood tall, his dark eyes gleaming with the wisdom of someone who had lived far longer than any normal being.

His aura was vast—like the ocean, boundless and all-encompassing. His very being resonated with power, as if he were more than just a man. He wasn't merely a rank five saint. He was something ancient, something elemental, his every motion carrying the weight of history. His gaze shifted to Astra as he entered, and Astra could feel the full weight of it. It wasn't just that Valerius noticed him—it was as though Valerius saw him. Every detail. Every nuance. Every breath he took.

Astra's heart pounded in his chest. Despite the composure he tried to maintain, his nervousness was impossible to ignore. He could feel himself shrinking under the weight of their power, their scrutiny. These were beings who had seen centuries, who had mastered the very forces Astra was only beginning to comprehend. They could crush him with a glance.

Valerius stood still for a long moment, studying Astra as if deciding whether or not to allow him to breathe the same air. His presence alone was enough to make Astra feel small.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Valerius spoke, his voice like the echo of thunder.

"So, you are the last heir of House Night," he said, his words dripping with an ancient, calculating curiosity. His voice held no warmth, but there was a sharpness to it, an edge that made Astra feel as though Valerius was testing his very soul. "The stars have watched over you, but I wonder if you can endure the shadows."

Astra barely managed to suppress the shiver that ran down his spine. The way Valerius spoke was as if his very existence was being measured—compared against an invisible standard that Astra wasn't even aware of.

The two bishops remained silent, their eyes never leaving Astra's form. They didn't speak, but their presence alone was enough to make him feel like he was under a microscope. Every shift of his posture, every flicker in his expression seemed to be caught by their ever-watchful gaze. They didn't care about pleasantries. They didn't care about titles. They were judging him, dissecting him, and it was more terrifying than any enemy Astra had faced before.

Alistair, standing at Astra's side, finally broke the silence.

"Valerius, these are the questions you've long awaited, I assume. The last heir of House Night, standing before you." He glanced at Astra briefly, then turned his attention back to the saint. "We've brought him here. Now, let him prove his worth."

Astra forced himself to breathe. He didn't flinch. He wouldn't let himself show weakness. Not now. Not in front of them.

He didn't care if these were beings that could end him with a thought. He had come here for a reason, and he would see it through.

But the overwhelming presence of these rank fours and fives—the sheer power they exuded—was enough to make him question his own resolve.

"Prove himself?" Valerius asked, his eyes narrowing with quiet amusement. "Oh, I am sure he will try, Alistair. But let's see if he can survive first."