CH 69 - Old Flames That Never Died
CH 69 - Old Flames That Never Died
Night crept in through the tall windows of the ancient Regane estate, casting moonlight across the cold grey marble floors. Deep in the heart of the manor, candle flames flickered gently between shelves filled with ancient books and scrolls. The air was thick with the scent of dust, old ink, and animal hide a silence heavy with secrets, in a room only accessible to the clan’s oldest blood.
In the center of that stillness, Daeron stood alone in the meditation chamber a circular room etched with ancient symbols on its stone walls, and an inverted cross carved into the floor, wrapped in a ring of runes.
His weathered hands trailed over the pages of a centuries-old manuscript. And there, on that page, something stirred the calm he'd carefully maintained: the ritual of pure blood. Not just a key to power, but something that could determine the fate of the world itself. A vortex of power that, in the wrong hands, could wipe out the vampire race… or crown them as absolute rulers.
“Lucien… we need to talk. It’s about the pureblood. About Elara. About a world on the verge of burning,” Daeron whispered, closing his eyes and focusing his thoughts. He didn’t call out with his voice but with the bloodborne resonance that only those of Regane and Aurelion could hear. Vampiric energy pulsed from his body, wave after wave pushing past the veil of the physical world, reaching for anyone carrying Aurelion’s blood. But… something felt off.
A tall figure, cloaked in black, appeared in the courtyard outside the library, bathed in moonlight. The old door creaked open, and a familiar scent filled the air followed by a voice soaked in venom.
“You really should’ve learned to filter who can hear your call, Daeron.”
Daeron turned, eyes narrowing as he recognized the figure: Gabriel. His gaze was cold, his lips curled into a faint smirk, and his eyes glinted with that subtle red unmistakable hunger not yet sated.
“So… it’s you,” Daeron said calmly, though the air itself seemed to tighten with the arrival of an old enemy.
Gabriel stepped inside, the sound of his boots tapping against the granite floor echoing like a grim melody. His smile was thin, sarcastic like the world was nothing more than a little game he enjoyed far too much.
“A soul-call. Romantic. Archaic. So very Regane,” he mused, walking slowly toward the open archway. “Too bad I’m the one who answered. Disappointed?”
Daeron walked out to meet him, his stance firm, eyes sharp with the wisdom of an old soul. “Gabriel,” he greeted calmly, “What are you doing here?”
Gabriel gave a short laugh. “A funny question, considering you summoned me. Or were you hoping your dear nephew would show up? Sorry to break it to you, but Lucien’s too busy pretending to be a hero. I came because I wanted to, not because you called.”
“I called him because something important needs to be discussed. Something that could decide the fate of this world.” Daeron’s voice was steady. “If you have even a shred of sense left, you’ll stop playing games before everything falls apart.”
Gabriel stepped closer, his footsteps sharp against the stone floor each one cutting through the air with intent.
“It’s interesting, seeing you so flustered. What’s wrong, Daeron? Worried your little secret might leak before the timing’s right?”
“This isn’t just about secrets,” Daeron said. “It’s about Elara. The pureblood. Do you have any idea what will happen if every faction finds out who she really is?”
Gabriel’s grin remained, but something in his eyes hardened.
“Oh, I know exactly what will happen,” he said, voice low. “That’s why I’m hunting her.”
Daeron inhaled sharply.
“If Elara’s blood falls into the wrong hands, it’s not just the vampires who will vanish. The balance between humans, vampires, and every other damned creature will burn away in that ritual’s fire.”
“The balance of the world?” Gabriel echoed with a scoff. “That’s so funny… you, talking about balance and the world as if you’ve never spilled blood. If someone has to use Elara, let it be me. I’ve already lost everything because of your fake sense of righteousness.”
Daeron’s eyes hardened. “Don’t bring up the past, Gabriel.”
But Gabriel chuckled bitterly, his voice low and burning.
“Why not? Weren’t you the one who lit the match? You’re the one who wiped out my whole family, said they were ‘too weak’ to carry the Regane name.”
Daeron stayed silent. His gaze held steady, but behind it flickered a shadow from another time. Gabriel's smile grew wider, his laugh now cruel and cracked with venom.
“I remember it, Daeron,” he said. “The way you drew that Regane blade and cut them all down. Right in front of me. All in the name of your so-called ‘balance.’ All for your perfect little order. My parents, even my baby sister innocent. And you called that a sacrifice. I call it a massacre.”
“Gabriel, that happened because,”
“Because I chose the human side,” Gabriel snapped. “Because I didn’t want to live tied to blood rituals and ancient pacts that keep killing the ones we love. You punished me because I refused to become a monster. And now you show up wanting to ‘save’ the world? Save it from who? From us?”
Daeron held his breath. The night around them seemed to freeze. No wind. No birds. Just silence.
“I don’t regret the past,” Daeron said slowly. “But I’ve learned from it. You’re right, I’ve taken many lives for what I believed was right. But this time, Gabriel… if Elara’s blood ends up in the wrong hands, none of this will matter. Not your pain. Not your anger. This isn’t about revenge. This is about a world about to lose its last chance.”
“And so now you stand here,” Gabriel cut in, “pretending to be the guardian of balance. But to me, you’re just a coward, afraid that power might finally fall into the hands of someone bold enough to use it.”
“If that’s what you call bold,” Daeron shot back, “then maybe this world is too far gone to be saved.”
Gabriel looked at him, long and cold. The smile had vanished. All that remained was a flicker of rage, carefully caged behind his eyes.
“Sadly, Uncle Regane,” he said quietly, “I’ve long passed the point where hope was an option. I won’t let eternity slip through my fingers. Not for you. Not for Lucien. Not for anyone.”
“You think I’ll let you?” Daeron stepped forward. “Stop before your own rage destroys you, Gabriel.”
“I don’t need your permission, Daeron. I don’t need your forgiveness. I’ll take what should’ve been ours from the beginning. And if Lucien stands in my way, I’ll destroy him just like you destroyed my family.”
He turned to leave, footsteps silent on the stone. But just before fading into the shadows, he glanced back, his eyes glowing a deep, dangerous red.
“You can choose to stand in my path… or fall with everything else.”
And with a whisper like dead wind, Gabriel disappeared into the night, leaving Daeron alone in the courtyard, quieter, colder, and heavier than before.