Blood Resonance

Chapter 3 part 1 – The Mask of Warmth

Experiment Log: Emotional Reactions – Subject: Human (Non-Self)

Observer: Caelus Virein

Age: 10

Location: Virein Estate, Core Wing

[Joy]

Initial trial: gift-giving. Results confirmed.

Second trial: praise.

He approached a younger servant who had just returned from errands.

“You performed efficiently,” Caelus stated.

“T-Thank you, young master,” she stammered.

Result: mild smile, pink flush, subtle shoulder lift.

Duration: 3 seconds.

Impact: minimal.

He tried again later with a longer sentence.

“You complete your tasks faster than most.”

She looked shocked—then pleased. Spoke with more confidence the next day.

Conclusion: praise creates short-lived joy when unexpected. Effectiveness increases based on the speaker’s status.

Still no internal reaction. Caelus blinked once and moved on.

[Sadness]

Test: remove favored object from peer.

He observed a second-tier noble heir playing with a miniature training rune. The boy seemed attached—checking on it often, adjusting it even when unnecessary.

Caelus requested it politely, studied it, and “accidentally” shattered it with an enchantment burst.

The boy looked stricken.

“That was a gift,” he mumbled.

“So was the lesson,” Caelus replied.

The boy walked away silently.

No outburst. No tears.

But later, he didn’t return to play.

Conclusion: Sadness often manifests in silence. Withdrawal. Sometimes in tears, but not always. Especially when the subject lacks power to respond.

[Fear]

Test: stage unknown noise in servant’s quarters at night using basic illusion glyph.

Result: immediate panic from three younger staff.

Heart rates elevated. Two ran. One dropped her tray.

Dravin, standing beside Caelus during the observation, tilted his head.

“And what did this prove?”

“They feared something that wasn’t real,” Caelus said.

“But their fear was.”

He wrote that down, then scratched it out.

“...Unusable data. Illusions create false positives.”

He would try again later with real stakes.

[Anger]

Test: contradict peers in front of a crowd.

During morning etiquette study, Caelus corrected a girl’s posture in front of the group.

“That isn’t how you hold a greeting fan.”

“Yes it is,” she replied.

“Incorrect.” He took the fan, shifted her fingers, and held it up. “Now it is.”

The others laughed.

She slapped him.

His head barely moved.

“Emotionally triggered. Public humiliation equals direct retaliation,” he noted aloud.

She turned red. Left the room.

Dravin watched the scene in silence from a corner.

Later that evening, Lucien asked:

“Was there a reason you humiliated Lady Vern?”

Caelus replied:

“She was wrong.”

Lucien didn’t press. Seraphina didn’t comment.

[Affection]

Test: exposure to parental warmth.

Lucien had just returned from an external envoy trip. He embraced Seraphina, then beckoned both children to him.

“Come,” he said, his voice softer than usual.

Seraphina kissed Elaris’s forehead. Lucien ruffled her hair. Elaris smiled brightly, leaning into both of them.

They turned to Caelus.

Lucien placed a hand on his head. Seraphina crouched beside him.

“We missed you both,” she said.

Caelus remained still.

“Why?” he asked.

She blinked.

Lucien sighed lightly.

Elaris giggled.

“Because you’re family, dummy.”

Caelus stared straight ahead.

“But we are always here.”

“It’s just something people say when they care,” she added.

He nodded.

“Then why doesn’t it feel like anything?”

They didn't answer.

That night, he wrote:

Affection is a declared emotion. Meaningless to the receiver if the receiver lacks internal resonance. Equivalent to being told what a color is without being able to see it.

[Love]

This one was harder.

He observed Elaris near the guest wing garden a week later. She stood nervously beside a boy—slightly older, well-dressed, with a storm affinity badge on his shoulder. Talon Veyr, second-tier. Politely bred.

Elaris brushed her hair behind her ear more than usual.

She laughed twice at things that weren’t funny.

When Talon handed her a rune-carved bracelet, her hands trembled. She smiled. Real, wide, nervous.

Behavioral shifts noted. Eye movement irregular. Heart rate up. Laughs without stimulus. Extended eye contact. Defensive posture softened.

Love?

He walked over.

“He makes you uncomfortable,” Caelus stated plainly, staring at Talon.

They both blinked.

“What?” Elaris said quickly.

“Your eyes shift, your voice lifts, and your fingers twitch. You only do that when anxious.”

Talon frowned. Elaris turned bright red.

“Caelus, stop—”

“Are you ill? Is it his fault?”

Elaris shoved him lightly.

“Go away!”

Caelus paused.

Talon scratched the back of his neck, chuckling awkwardly.

“Uh, maybe I’ll see you later…”

He left.

Elaris turned to her brother, cheeks still flushed.

“What is wrong with you?”

He tilted his head.

“I was concerned.”

“You embarrassed me in front of him!”

“Did I?”

She stormed off.

Caelus stood still, processing it.

Conclusion: Love is irrational. Behavior mimics anxiety. Results in secrecy, defensiveness, physical signs of vulnerability. Often rejected when observed directly. Possibly shameful?

He flipped the page and added:

Note: Asking about love causes hostility. Avoid in future tests.

That night, he stood in front of the mirror again.

Tried the smile once more.

Still wrong.

Next morning

Children laughed in the side gardens that morning.

Not the Virein children, of course—those were rare. But a few visiting heirs from second-tier families had been permitted to spend the day under the estate’s guest supervision. Political leverage, packaged in games and soft diplomacy.

Caelus watched them from a distance, tucked beneath the shade of a tall blackwood tree, a book half-closed in his lap. His eyes weren’t on the words. They were on the movements, the faces, the reactions.

He had already taken notes earlier that week.

“Happiness is often caused by gifts or praise,” his journal read.

“Sadness occurs when things are taken, or harm is inflicted.”

“Anger rises from public embarrassment or contradiction.”

“Fear results from pain, surprise, or perceived danger.”

“Affection... appears to have no consistent source.”

He closed the journal and stood.

It was time to test a theory.

The first target was a girl his age—bright-eyed, polite, but forgettable. He had memorized her name already: Alia Crest. Water affinity. high teir with moderate mana. Rank 0, but competent with etiquette. She was also the one who had smiled at him yesterday.

That was enough.

Caelus approached her with a small parcel in hand.

Inside was a charm he’d personally crafted in the forge two days earlier. Nothing powerful. Just a floating light rune shaped like a blooming petal—a practice trinket. Elegant. Harmless.

“This is for you,” he said, tone flat.

She blinked. Looked down. Opened it.

“Oh… thank you! It’s beautiful!”

She smiled at him. Wide, open, genuine.

Caelus stared.

There it was.

He watched the corners of her mouth lift, her eyes squint slightly, her shoulders rise unconsciously.

Happiness. Level: moderate. Duration: short-term. Facial response: immediate.

He didn’t smile back.

Two hours later, he found another test subject—a boy slightly older, Rank 0. Arrogant. Loud. He mocked one of the younger kids for failing to dodge a training orb.

Caelus stepped behind him during the practice break and dropped a weight on the back of the boy’s foot.

Not enough to break anything.

Just enough to elicit a reaction.

The boy cried out and stumbled. His friends spun to look. He flushed red.

“What the hell was that?!”

“Accident,” Caelus replied, expression unchanged.

“You—!”

The boy lunged forward.

Caelus didn’t move.

Dravin appeared from behind a pillar like a shadow drawn by blood scent. The boy froze mid-step, pale.

“He—he did it on purpose!”

Dravin raised an eyebrow.

Caelus tilted his head faintly.

“I didn’t deny it.”

The boy left, shaken.

Caelus made another note.

Pain causes anger. Embarrassment triggers fury. But without proof, most retreat into shame. Fear rises when threatened. Loss of status = temporary vulnerability.

That night, he reviewed both incidents.

The gift had earned him praise. The trap had earned him avoidance. Both had predictable outcomes.

But he felt nothing from either.

No satisfaction. No guilt. No pride. Only understanding.

He walked to the mirror in his room and tried to copy Alia’s smile.

He practiced it five times.

The third attempt looked right, but felt... off. Like a mask made of damp cloth.

Still, it might be useful.

The next day, he tested the smile on a servant who brought his tea.

“Good morning,” he said, lifting the corners of his mouth slightly.

The servant froze mid-step. Bowed. Then fled too quickly.

Smiling... only effective when paired with proper tone and eye contact. My version causes discomfort. Possibly resembles predatory expression.

He crossed it out.

That evening, Caelus returned to the garden. A second gift was prepared. Another charm, this one more polished—glowed with a soothing blue hue.

But this time, he didn’t give it away.

He stared at it in his hand for several seconds.

Then closed his fingers over it.

“They want smiles. Warmth. Praise. But none of those things are mine.”

He crushed the charm in his hand.

The mana flickered and sputtered out, cracking the shell into fragments.

He dropped them into the pond without a sound. Why can't I feel?

Chapter 3 part 2 – Nothing Beneath the Smile

The wind shifted softly over the Virein estate’s outer courtyard. Autumn had begun to color the ivy walls with fading gold and red, though nothing inside the inner gates ever truly felt like it changed.

Especially not Caelus.

He stood atop the east balcony with perfect posture, watching several young noble guests below engage in polite sparring. Elaris laughed as she dodged a mistimed strike. Talon was there, too—smirking, always trying to impress.

Caelus watched.

Not them. Their faces.

Their interactions.

“Note: Prolonged exposure to warmth increases social cohesion. Smiles are exchanged more frequently during shared failure than shared success. Competition builds tension. Laughter releases it.”

The observations hadn’t stopped.

He still kept the mental journal. He no longer wrote it down. He didn’t need to.

He saw it all. Recorded it. Remembered it. Weighed it.

And remained untouched by it.

He turned as someone approached behind him.

Dravin.

“Your sister asked where you were. She’s hosting the younger guests in the second gallery.”

Caelus didn’t move from the railing.

“Tell her I’m coming.”

Dravin tilted his head slightly, then nodded.

“As you wish.”

After the Shadow Knight vanished, Caelus looked down once more.

Elaris was handing Talon a cloth to wipe his face. He grinned. She smiled.

Affection behavior: stable. Expression consistent. Interaction pleasant. Threat level: low.

Caelus didn’t hate it.

He simply didn’t understand the purpose of it. The weight behind it.

But he’d learned how to replicate it when necessary.

He stepped away from the railing and headed toward the gallery.

In the second hall, light mana globes drifted through the air like suspended stars. Cushioned seating lined the marble edges of the room, and decorative blades hung on the wall beside glass-encased tomes. Guests gathered in small groups—laughing, boasting, gossiping.

Caelus entered like a shadow folding into the light.

Elaris saw him and waved.

“Caelus! You came.”

Several others turned. Most looked away quickly.

Talon didn’t.

He approached with a drink in hand.

“Didn’t expect to see you down here. Tired of reading?”

Caelus met his gaze.

“No. Just making an appearance.”

“Social pressure?” Talon chuckled. “Didn’t think you cared what anyone thought.”

“I don’t.”
The words came too flat. Too real.

Talon paused. Chuckled again, more awkwardly.

Caelus recognized the break in tone.

Smile, soften reply. De-escalate discomfort.

He adjusted his posture and said, “But you’re not just ‘anyone,’ are you?”

Talon blinked.

Elaris raised an eyebrow.

Liora glanced sideways.

Talon hesitated, then smirked. “Guess not.”

Caelus tilted his head slightly and forced a smile—just enough to show civility. No more.

Inside, he felt nothing.

Not warmth.

Not hatred.

Not pride.

But it worked.

The others laughed. The conversation moved on. They stopped looking at him like he was strange.

And that was enough.

That night, Caelus stood in his room alone, stripping off his outer coat, eyes lingering in the mirror.

The smile he’d worn earlier was still there, faint on his lips.

He wiped it away with one hand.

“It fits better now.”

He looked down at his hands. At the faint scars from old training drills. At the tiny tremble that started when his heart was too still for too long.

“But it’s still not mine.”

He stepped to the window and stared out toward the forest.

The sky was clouded.

“I don’t need to be like them. I just need to be... stronger.”

“Then none of it will matter.”

Behind him, the lantern flickered once.

Chapter 3 part 3 – The Robbery

Time skip to Caelus age 12

The city breathed mana.

Veins of spell-threaded steel ran through its towers, and mana-reactive lights shimmered softly along the walkways, as if the whole place pulsed with quiet power. This was the inner district of Virein territory—clean, controlled, and watched.

Even so, not all corners were without shadow.

Caelus walked with slow, deliberate steps beside a boy his age. Ryven Halewin, loud-mouthed and too relaxed, had dragged him out for what he called a “real-world break.”

"You need to leave that icebox of an estate sometimes," Ryven said, chewing a stick of sour gum. "It's not healthy, you know. Might turn into one of those statues in your family's hall."

Caelus gave no reply. He didn’t even glance at him.

Ryven grinned and said teasingly.

"Right. Forgot you speak in blinks and grim gazes."

They turned into a side street, lined with shuttered shop fronts and a blinking enchantment node in disrepair. Ryven slowed.

"huh this doesn’t look like the place I remembered. Let me just look up directions"

Caelus stopped.

From the alley, three figures emerged.

Teenagers. Older. Worn jackets, confidence, knives that glinted with low-grade mana coating. One wore a cracked eyepiece—probably stolen.

"Yo," the tallest said with a wicked grin. "Didn’t expect some rich brats to walk alone out here. You got coin? Mana stones? Don’t worry—if you're cooperative, you won’t feel too much pain."

Ryven raised his hands, taking a step back.

"Whoa, hey—we’re not looking for trouble—"

Caelus didn’t move.

He simply stared.

His expression didn’t change, but the air around him felt colder somehow. He took one slow step forward, gaze steady and devoid of concern.

The lead robber scoffed.

"What, you think acting all mysterious is gonna scare me? I'm Rank One, brat. I can beat up three adults without breaking a sweat."

Caelus blinked.

"One arm each."

Dravin appeared.

One moment, the alley was filled with arrogance.
The next, the world snapped.

With a blur of motion, the first boy’s arm shattered beneath Dravin’s grip. A howl of pain tore through the air.

"W-Wait! Please! We didn’t mean—I'm sorry! Don’t—"

Crack.

Another fell to the ground, clutching his shoulder and sobbing.

The third robber tried to run.

Dravin didn’t allow it. With a swift, precise motion, the last one dropped, screaming as bone split through his skin.

Caelus turned and walked on, as if nothing had happened.

Ryven stood frozen.

"Y-You just... Are they going to live?"

Caelus didn’t answer.
He didn’t slow.
He didn’t look back.

He simply walked.

Back at the estate, Lucien Virein reviewed the city’s incident logs that evening.

He said nothing.

Then, quietly, he gestured for the feed to be cleared and returned to his work.

(the bold is for important names or things that are either first introduced or im saying they are important and should be looked at again)