Blood Resonance

Chapter 6 – Blood Must Be Repaid with Blood

Dinner at the Virein estate was always a meticulously structured affair—more a ritual than a gathering. The grand dining hall stretched out in silent opulence, dimly lit by mana-infused lanterns that floated serenely, casting soft shadows across polished obsidian surfaces.

Tonight, Elaris's friends—Talon, Myra, Selene, and Alia Crest—had been begrudgingly allowed the rare privilege of staying overnight. It wasn’t hospitality. It was a gesture of control from Lucien and Seraphina, a reminder that what the Vireins tolerated… they owned.

Caelus sat in his usual seat, posture straight, eyes lowered to his plate with detached focus. Across from him, Elaris tried to appear calm, though her glances shifted nervously between her brother and her guests.

Breaking the uneasy silence, Myra leaned forward, her voice conspiratorial and bright.

“Did you hear about the academy’s principal? He’s finally searching for a worthy successor. Everyone’s excited—this kind of chance is rare.”

Selene immediately followed, voice laced with admiration.
“Whoever inherits his power goes from carp to dragon overnight. Speaking of—Talon, didn’t your instructor say you had rare light affinity? The principal’s a light wielder, isn’t he?”

Talon subtly straightened, his eyes narrowing with growing pride. Caelus noticed. He simply didn’t care.

Myra smirked, pushing on. “Imagine that, Talon. You could be the chosen one. Then you wouldn’t have to put up with stuck-up heirs pretending they’re untouchable.”

At that, Caelus finally raised his head. A faint, cold smirk touched his lips.

“Ambition is commendable,” he said quietly. “But power is useless when wielded by incompetence.”

The room fell silent.

Elaris flinched. Myra’s smile faltered. Talon’s eyes widened—and then narrowed, his jaw clenching.

Selene turned stiffly. Alia Crest watched, her gaze unreadable.

Then, without warning, the lanterns above dimmed. Just slightly. A flicker of unease passed through the room before they steadied again.

Myra leaned into Talon’s ear and whispered sharply, though everyone could hear.
“Don’t let him bait you. He’s doing it on purpose.”

At the far end of the table, Lucien and Seraphina exchanged a glance. Seraphina's brow furrowed slightly. Lucien gave a subtle shake of his head. Stay out of it.

Talon tried to smile. “Insults don’t suit the heir of the Virein family. You make your whole bloodline look graceless.”

Caelus gave no reply. He resumed eating, as if Talon no longer existed.

Talon’s knuckles turned white beneath the table.

After dinner, the guests scattered quickly. No one wanted to linger beneath that pressure.

Caelus stood by a window in the upper gallery, gazing out into the night. The glass reflected a still, pale face—and behind him, Dravin emerged silently from the shadows.

“When Talon strikes,” Caelus said without turning, “don’t interfere. Unless the injury is fatal.”

Dravin paused. His stoic mask cracked slightly. But he bowed.

“Understood.”

The moon hung high over the Virein estate, casting silver threads across marble garden paths. Mana-lanterns hovered low among the hedgerows, glowing violet with a soft hum—warded silence meant to keep peace.

But peace was always a fragile thing.

Caelus walked with his hands clasped behind his back, his footsteps slow and deliberate.

Up ahead, laughter spilled from beneath the arbor.

Elaris stood with her friends: Selene reclining on a bench, Myra twirling a teacup, Talon leaning lazily against a column. Alia Crest stood slightly apart, her eyes sharp despite her stillness.

Dravin trailed silently behind Caelus. When they reached the arbor, Caelus murmured without looking back.

“If he strikes, don’t interfere… unless the injury would kill me.”

Dravin didn’t speak. But Caelus felt the faint nod.

He stepped into the clearing.

Talon noticed him first.

“Well, look who decided to crawl out of the crypt,” he called out, loud enough for everyone. “What? Done brooding in your cave?”

Caelus didn’t answer. He walked past without looking, gaze fixed on the arbor’s columns.

The silence struck harder than any insult.

“You stalking us now?” Talon pushed. “You act like you’re above everyone, but you follow us everywhere. What’s wrong? Afraid of missing out?”

“Stop it, Talon,” Elaris warned.

But Caelus turned.

“Does your family always speak this much before doing nothing?” he asked calmly. “Or is that just you?”

Talon’s grin faltered.

Caelus took a step forward.

“If you have something to say, say it. If you have something to prove, act. Or is your family’s pride as thin as its legacy?”

Even Selene flinched.

Myra blinked, unsure if she should laugh or back away.

Alia Crest just watched.

“You think you can disrespect my family just because of your bloodline?” Talon snapped. “You won’t be protected forever.”

Caelus tilted his head.

“I don’t need protection from an insects attacks.”

That was it.

Talon stepped forward, hand twitching. A spark of light flickered in his eyes. The lanterns dimmed—barely.

Only Caelus noticed.

He smiled.

“You should hit me,” he said softly just loud enough for only talon to hear. “If you plan to.”

Talon blinked. “What?”

“Otherwise,” Caelus said, tone flat, “I’ll assume you can’t.”

Talon’s rage cracked.

He turned sharply and stormed away.

The others remained frozen.

Caelus walked on.

Dravin stepped silently from the shadows and matched his pace.

“He’ll come,” he murmured.

Caelus didn’t respond.

He already knew.

The lanterns swayed in the wind. Footsteps echoed behind them.

Talon’s.

He walked alone beneath the arbor vines, jaw tight, breath uneven.

(In Talons head) (He humiliated you. In front of Elaris. In front of everyone.) 

"I'll show Elaris that I'm a man of action and “I’ll wipe that  stupid, indifferent look off your face!

(In Talons head) (He humiliated you. In front of Elaris. In front of everyone.)  "I'll show Elaris that I'm a man of action and “I’ll wipe that  stupid, indifferent look off your face! " he muttered quietly

His hand touched the ceremonial dagger at his side—smooth, blackened steel. Not meant for war.

But sharp enough.

He turned the corner.

Caelus was walking ahead, slow, calm. Like nothing had happened.

Like Talon wasn’t even worth remembering.

That’s when he snapped.

The dagger hissed free of its sheath.

“I’ll wipe that stupid, indifferent look off your face!” 

He lunged.

Caelus didn’t turn.

Dravin moved—a blur of motion—but froze when Caelus lifted a hand and said one word.

“Don’t.”

The Shadow Knight stopped mid-step, every muscle pulled tight. His eyes followed the arc of the blade—but the strike wasn’t fatal.

Not yet.

Talon's blade slashed forward.

And just before it struck, he realized what he was doing.

He pulled back—too late to fully stop it.

The steel kissed skin.

And the blood began to fall.

The dagger carved a shallow line across Caelus’s side, slashing through the side of his tunic and into flesh. Blood welled instantly, warm and red against the white of his shirt.

Only then did Caelus turn.

His eyes were half-lidded. Bored. Unshaken.

“That’s all?” he asked, voice low.

Talon staggered back, the dagger still trembling in his hand.

Caelus looked down at the wound as if observing a scuff on a boot. He touched the edge of his shirt, saw the blood, and then raised his gaze.

Others had seen it now.

Myra gasped and dropped her cup. Alia's eyes widened in disbelief. Elaris stumbled back in horror.

“Caelus!”

He raised a hand to stop her.

“No.”

His voice held no malice. Just finality.

Guards came running. Internal estate mana alarms had triggered when blood was spilled.

Dravin stepped forward now—not to fight, but to ensure Caelus didn’t fall.

The guards seized Talon without resistance. His face was pale, breath uneven, the dagger dropping from his hand with a clatter.

“I… I didn’t…” he stammered, words fleeing him.

Caelus looked at him the way one might regard a pawn that fell into a trap.

“You made your choice,” he said. “And I will honor it.”

Then he turned and walked away, the blood still dripping steadily from his side and a small smile on his face

Talon’s breathing grew erratic. “I—I didn’t mean—” he backed away, eyes darting to the approaching guards, the blood on Caelus’s shirt, the frozen expressions of the others.

“It was just—!” he shouted.

Too late.

Dravin moved.

One step, one strike—a flash of motion faster than anyone could react.

Talon’s knees buckled before he even felt the impact. He crumpled to the stone with a dull thud, unconscious, the side of his face already swelling.

Caelus didn’t look back.

When Talon awoke chained in a dim cell, the cold iron biting into his wrists painfully, he found Caelus sitting quietly before him, Dravin standing like a shadowed sentinel. The dim lighting made the scene feel even more oppressive.

“Caelus, please,” Talon pleaded nervously, his voice shaking with barely contained fear. “It was nothing—just a small cut. If I really wanted to kill you, I wouldn’t have only given you a small cut.”

“I was mad, okay? Just a little mad. I wanted to scare you, that’s all. It wasn’t serious! It’s probably scabbed over by now!”

He laughed weakly, voice cracking.

“So let’s just… put it all behind us and move on, yeah? I’ll compensate you—don’t worry.”

Caelus remained silent, eyes coldly observing Talon’s panic rise, watching dispassionately as desperation gradually overtook the boy.

"It was a joke, Caelus!" Talon begged, voice growing hoarse. "Just a stupid joke! Don’t ruin our families over something trivial, please!"

Caelus rose slowly, deliberately, his movements measured and calm.

"Your family is already dead," he spoke softly, his voice sharp as ice.

The lights dimmed momentarily once more, unnoticed this time.

Talon’s face turned pale, disbelief mingling with horror.

"No... please, Caelus... mercy..." he whimpered, voice breaking entirely.

"Your debt is paid. Leave and never return," Caelus ordered, stepping calmly out of the cell without a backward glance.

Days later, Talon stumbled through his family's mansion doors, greeted only by lifeless silence and the stench of blood. He found their bodies scattered, eyes frozen in their last terrified expressions, limbs contorted unnaturally.

Dropping to his knees, Talon’s grief twisted violently into vengeful fury.

"Caelus Virein," he whispered bitterly, voice shaking violently with anguish. "I swear upon my family's graves—I will make you suffer."

Hands trembling, Talon distorted his face with magic and painfully scarred himself further, ensuring no recognition was possible. Blood mixing with tears, he rose shakily.

"I’ll destroy you," he vowed, voice quivering with hatred and despair, echoing through empty halls.

Far away in his chambers, Caelus observed the broken figure through a crystal orb with a expressionless face, he turned away, walking calmly towards the ritual chamber.

The first move had been made.

Now, the pawn has been set

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