Chapter 7: The Truth in the Blood

Lucian's chest burned.

Not from physical pain, but from something deeper—something insidious crawling beneath his skin, writhing through his veins like a living curse. The twisted Ashford Crest pulsed with eerie light, its dark veins spreading across his chest in jagged, unnatural patterns.

The nobles in the hall had frozen, their expressions torn between horror and intrigue. Even the more powerful figures—dukes, lords, and high-ranking summoners—stood motionless, watching him as if he were something wrong.

Something that should not exist.

His breath came fast and uneven. His heartbeat thundered in his ears.

And standing before him, the source of this nightmare—his uncle Varian—watched with quiet amusement.

"Look at them, Lucian," Varian said, his voice smooth and deliberate. He gestured lazily to the gathered nobles. "Do you see their faces? That mixture of curiosity and fear?" His silver eyes glinted. "That is the reaction of people witnessing a mystery they cannot explain."

Lucian forced himself to straighten, pushing down the sickening feeling coursing through his body. He locked eyes with Varian. "Enough games," he ground out. "Tell me what this is."

Varian smirked. "Ah, my dear nephew, always so impatient." He took a slow step forward, his polished boots echoing against the marble floor. "Very well. Let me educate you."

The torches lining the grand hall flickered violently. The air itself felt heavier, charged with something unseen.

Varian lifted a hand. His fingers moved in a precise, practiced motion—ancient summoning gestures that even the most skilled summoners in the empire rarely dared to use.

And then—

Reality shifted.

A translucent ripple spread from Varian's fingertips, warping the space around them. The edges of the grand hall twisted as if the very walls were bending, distorting, unraveling.

Lucian's stomach lurched. His fairies tensed beside him.

Sylphira's golden eyes sharpened. "Master," she warned, stepping in front of him.

Nyx's crimson gaze flickered with an unreadable emotion. "That magic…" she murmured, her voice unusually serious.

Lys, usually playful, narrowed her eyes. "He's using something forbidden."

Lucian's muscles tensed, his instincts screaming at him to move.

But before he could react—

The distorted air shattered, like glass breaking apart—

And in its place—

A vision appeared.

A flickering, shadowy image that hovered in the air between them.

It showed a battlefield. No—something beyond a battlefield.

A graveyard.

Endless ruins stretched across the horizon, the remnants of massive structures torn apart by forces beyond human comprehension. The sky was blackened, swirling with crimson streaks of energy, and the ground was littered with the bones of creatures so massive, so grotesque, that even the nobles gasped at the sight.

And there, standing amidst the destruction—

Was a man.

Draped in a long, flowing coat, his face was obscured by a thick mist, but his presence alone was suffocating. His aura pulsed like a dying star, unstable, raw, filled with something beyond mortal power.

His hands, raised toward the sky, were wreathed in a dark, flickering energy.

And then—

Behind him, creatures emerged.

Not beasts.

Not spirits.

But something worse.

Their forms were twisted beyond recognition—living nightmares given shape. Some had too many eyes, others too many limbs. Some crawled, others hovered in defiance of gravity. Their bodies pulsed with unstable energy, flickering between existence and oblivion.

And all of them—

Bowed before the man.

Lucian's blood turned to ice.

"What… is this?"

Varian's voice was soft, almost reverent. "This, dear nephew, is the origin of our bloodline."

Lucian's breath caught.

The vision wavered, shifting again—

This time showing a familiar crest.

The Ashford Crest.

But instead of the noble, refined symbol of his family, it was warped. Cracked. Dark veins of magic pulsed through its design—the same veins now spreading across Lucian's chest.

The nobles in the hall murmured in hushed whispers, their shock evident.

Lucian tore his gaze from the vision and glared at Varian. "What does this have to do with me?"

Varian chuckled. "Oh, Lucian. Everything."

He took another step forward, lowering his voice to a near whisper.

"You weren't meant to summon fairies," he said, echoing Seraphine's earlier words.

"You were meant to summon them."

Lucian's heart pounded.

His fairies reacted instantly.

Sylphira spread her wings, golden energy crackling at her fingertips. "Master, step back!"

Nyx's shadows thickened, her expression dark. "He's trying to manipulate you."

Lys clenched her fists, an unusual seriousness settling over her. "We won't let it happen."

But Varian merely smiled. "Oh, little fairies," he mused, amusement dancing in his eyes. "You think you can protect him from what's already inside him?"

Lucian inhaled sharply. "Inside me…?"

Varian's silver eyes gleamed. "Your blood. Your lineage. Your very soul—" He gestured to the mark pulsing on Lucian's chest. "That is not a mere crest, Lucian. That is a seal."

Lucian's stomach dropped.

"A seal…?"

Varian tilted his head. "A seal suppressing what you truly are."

The nobles gasped.

Seraphine's hands trembled at her sides.

Lucian's head spun. He tried to process Varian's words, but his body was already reacting. His breath quickened. His fingers twitched involuntarily. The mark on his chest burned.

And then—

A voice.

Not Varian's.

Not the nobles'.

Not even his fairies'.

But something else.

"Release me."

Lucian's body jolted as if struck by lightning.

The hall around him darkened.

His vision blurred.

A second voice joined the first.

"You are the last."

Lucian gasped.

Dark tendrils of something—energy—began to slither from the edges of the room, crawling toward him.

His fairies acted instantly.

Sylphira shot forward, her golden wings blazing. "No!"

Nyx unleashed a torrent of black flames, swallowing the approaching tendrils.

Lys snapped her fingers, warping the space around them to create a protective barrier.

The dark energy recoiled—just for a moment.

And in that moment—

Lucian saw it.

Deep within the twisting darkness—

Eyes.

A sea of glowing, ancient eyes, watching him from the abyss.

His breath caught.

His heart thundered.

And for the first time—

He understood.

This wasn't just about his summons.

This wasn't just about his power.

This was about him.

The truth of his bloodline.

And the thing that had been waiting for him all along.