Shadows Beneath the Forge

The stone corridors of Mystic Falls Academy bustled with life as students filed out of the classrooms into the wide hallways, murmuring excitedly about the duel that had taken place earlier that day. Though none had witnessed it, whispers of Beatrix Oriana's humiliation at the hands of the enigmatic transfer student, Cain Siegfred, spread like wildfire—fueled by speculation and envy.

Beatrix, however, walked several steps behind Cain, her face pale but expressionless, her silver hair cascading stiffly down her back. Her affinity with metal lent her an aura of natural authority—but now, it bowed quietly beneath Cain's silent dominion.

Cain paid her no mind.

His stride was steady, hands tucked into the folds of his dark academy robe. His mind wandered far from the clamor of students and shifting eyes. Laurifer's voice echoed softly in his consciousness.

"Something is stirring within the academy. Beatrix wasn't acting on her own whim—someone with influence sent her. I suspect a hand that knows your bloodline."

Cain didn't respond aloud, but his grip on the hilt of his sheathed katana tightened. Unlike the usual bulky swords wielded by warriors in Drimos, Cain's katana was slender, forged from obsidian-dark alloy imbued with fire-essence runes. Laurifer had gifted him its knowledge in a dream—calling it "Ashen Fang"—a blade forged by his ancestor to channel precise Essence strikes.

The weapon thrummed beneath his fingertips.

Upon exiting the academy gates, Cain turned into the secluded path that led to the Siegfried castle. The gravel crunched beneath his feet, the golden sun casting long shadows across the stone road. Evening clouds began to form like soft bruises in the sky.

Not long after, he felt a flicker in the shadow beside him. Hellfang's massive form emerged without a word, his crimson eyes glowing beneath his wolfen helm of hellfire. The Direwolf now walked beside Cain like a silent warden, his shadow-born presence completely invisible to others. Only those attuned to Darkness or Death could perceive him.

"You kept her on a tight leash," Hellfang's voice was guttural, low. "The girl. Her Essence smells like silver and corruption."

Cain exhaled. "She's a pawn. But she might lead us to the players."

As they neared the castle gates, Cain felt a familiar flare of Essence. Aildris was waiting.

The second son of Azreal stood beneath a cherry blossom tree, golden leaves fluttering down around him like fireflies. His shirt was half-unbuttoned, revealing rune-marked skin pulsing faintly with volcanic power. A wooden training sword rested casually over his shoulder.

"You skipped training today," Aildris called with a smirk. "Or did school finally chew you up?"

Cain approached with a raised brow. "I had an unexpected duel."

"Oh?" Aildris's smile grew broader. "Was it loud? Did you break anything?"

Cain's expression barely changed, but the hint of amusement in his eyes was enough for Aildris to bark out a laugh. "You're too damn calm, brother."

Brother. The word hadn't yet lost its novelty.

"I need your help," Cain said plainly. "Someone tried to enslave me using a forbidden contract."

Aildris's mirth vanished.

"…and?" he asked, voice low.

"My Shadow Constitution reversed it before it could activate. Now she's bound to me. But she didn't act on her own."

"Do you think it's connected to the Supremes?" Aildris asked, voice measured. His gaze flicked sideways toward the castle, where torches had begun to flicker to life.

Cain nodded slowly. "Someone knows who I really am."

The silence that followed was heavy. Aildris lowered his sword.

"Then we'll train harder," he said. "And faster. I'll make sure you can cut down anyone who tries again."

Cain inclined his head. "Thank you."

A voice rang from the courtyard.

"Dinner!"

It was Aurora.

Cain turned, his gaze softening ever so slightly. Aurora stood in the golden light of the castle's threshold, her lavender eyes shimmering like dusk. She wore a simple white tunic, but the wind made her hair dance like silk threads.

"Coming," Cain said, his voice quieter than usual.

Aildris caught the look in his eyes and grinned behind his hand.

As they entered the castle dining hall, the warmth of the fire-lit chandeliers and aroma of roasted meats filled the air. Emperor Azreal sat at the head of the long obsidian table, Siora beside him. The regal couple looked up as Cain entered, and Azreal gave a firm nod.

"How was your first day?"

Cain paused before taking his seat. "Revealing."

Azreal chuckled. "You'll find the academy full of snakes and sparrows. Learn to walk through both."

Cain glanced across the table at Aurora. She met his gaze and smiled—soft, but somehow bold.

Perhaps not all serpents bit with venom.

As the meal commenced, Cain's thoughts turned inward again. The Supremes had agents in Vulcan. Beatrix's actions proved that.

And sooner or later… Cain would have to expose them.

Not with rage.

But with a blade.