The weather in Umbravale was bright this afternoon, prompting Lord Xavian to invite everyone to enjoy the sunlight in the backyard. Knights practiced swordplay while servants lounged and chatted. This was the Nyxshade couple's desired homecoming celebration.
After Lord Xavian returned from a brief swordfight with their family's best knights, Kieran said to him, "You owe me a lot of explanations, Father."
Arlo, sitting leisurely with Lady Chandie, simply sipped his lemonade. Silent and observant, he pondered what Kieran's upbringing in this family was truly like. Surely it wasn't as flawless as depicted in paintings or recounted by the servants. There must be untold stories, not all of them pleasant.
"About what?" replied Lord Xavian as he joined them, taking his glass of lemonade and sipping it. With every movement, there was a dense magical aura that moved with him, indicating that the power he possessed far surpassed Kieran's.
However, unlike Kieran, Arlo felt no fear towards the man at all. He knew that the man could control every aspect of his power, while Kieran could not.
"About Morana," Kieran finally answered. "Elios said you were friends with her."
"Oh, about that," Lord Xavian exchanged a smile with his wife. "As you know, Elios's father and General Griffin, was your mother's childhood friend, Kieran. As for Morana... she is the niece of my old friend Rowan. Does that explanation suffice?"
Kieran shook his head. "You, Rowan, Morana, even I are revenants," he muttered. "We were created to live eternally and return from death. But why are there those who can kill you and Rowan?"
Lord Xavian clenched his fist, though it relaxed as he noticed Arlo observing. "We are wizards blessed by the gods to be their invincible army," he explained. "If someone can kill us, it must be connected to those gods."
"Perhaps you're right."
"No, I don't know either," muttered Xavian. "But what I do know for sure is to enjoy every second of this life."
Kieran chuckled softly. "You're lying," he muttered. "You're thinking about Rowan."
"Who is this Rowan we're talking about?" protested Arlo.
"Of course, I'm worried about him!" said Xavian, offended. "I'm not afraid of something out there threatening our immortality, my son. But I worry about those who want to kill us. Questioning their true intentions."
Arlo raised both hands. "I think I'll head to my room," he grumbled as he stood. "Your conversation is too heavy for me."
"Yeah, but you'll be a revenant one day too," Xavian muttered. "My grandson who can't handle heavy conversations."
"Excuse me?" Arlo turned back. "I thought magical powers were passed down genetically."
"If that were the case, they wouldn't call it a curse," Xavian smiled. "You've grown up around many revenants, Arlo. I bet next year, on your seventeenth birthday, you'll inherit those magical powers."
Arlo moistened his lips, unsure how to process the information. Becoming a revenant meant eternal life and the blessed ability to absorb power from slain enemies or fallen comrades. But carrying that power also meant a life of loneliness and threat.
Finally, he responded, "I don't know, maybe it's better than not having magical powers at all."
He quickly left the pavilion area and headed straight towards the Manor. Some servants greeted him, to which he replied with a brief smile. However, as his eyes caught something odd about one of the servants, Arlo halted in his tracks.
The female servant was very young, cradling a small baby snugly in her arms. But it wasn't the baby that startled Arlo. It was the figure of a man standing nearby.
The man wore tattered clothes touched by the essence of dead souls. His pale body showed no sign of life. His eyes glowed red, and his lips curled into a sinister smile as he looked at the baby.
"Is there a problem, Young Master?" the servant asked gently and cheerfully.
Arlo continued to stare at the man, then turned back to the servant. He forced a thin smile. "No, I'm just surprised by, uh, how beautiful your baby is," he said.
The servant immediately beamed. "Yeah, her name is Moly," she explained. "Do you like babies, Young Master?"
"Of course!" Arlo immediately crouched down and extended his pinky finger towards the baby girl. She gripped his finger tightly, while the shadowless man approached them.
"Cursed baby," the man muttered with bitterness.
Arlo smiled. It seemed he could now see a creature that shouldn't exist in the world of the living.
"I never thought you were the type of boy who enjoys hiding away in libraries and devouring a few books," muttered Lord Xavian as he entered the library.Arlo didn't look up from the thick Umbravale population data book he was reading, a book as thick as a bowl that had been unsettling him since earlier."Oh, so you're spying on my people," remarked Xavian. He sat in the nearest chair, crossing his legs. "If you're looking for the address of the girl you fancy at school, you should be reading the latest volume. Not that one.""If only it were that simple," Arlo grumbled inwardly. "No. I'm, uh, learning to become a good Nyxshade," he lied. "Since I'm destined to be the future Duke, who knows, right?""To become a good Nyxshade doesn't necessarily mean you'll make a good Duke," Xavian lamented. "Just tell me the name of the maid you're trying to find out about. I might know her family."Arlo set down his book. He was now gaping. "How did you know I was trying to find out about a maid?"
As Arlo hurried through the streets of the small town, the magical pattern Azathan had painted on the back of his hand began to softly shimmer with a silvery glow. It was beautiful, albeit faint.Umbravale City continued to breathe. While across town, Kieran might be exorcising the remaining dead souls, the townspeople carried on peacefully in their homes, emanating warmth.Arlo tucked his hand into his coat pocket, feeling the night breeze whispering something peculiar to him. It hinted that in the darkest corners of this small town, the ghosts were hiding from the pursuit of hell. They wandered and threatened, perhaps content that neither witches nor sensitive children could sense their presence.No, that thought was mistaken. Moving nimbly through the narrow gaps between houses, Arlo began to feel that emptiness. The complex feelings severed upon death's arrival. Feelings of being sidelined and ostracized when life mocked.That's what Arlo felt as his steps led him to the grand hou
Azathan stood calmly before him. He appeared radiant and alive amidst the crumbling house's courtyard. His wings, as black as the universe, gently flapped on his back. Meanwhile, his feet hung steadily a few inches above the ground. His bare chest was covered with shimmering greenish bubbles where Arlo had once stabbed him.Arlo quickly drew a dagger from his coat pocket, but it crumbled into dust in his hands."You've just witnessed the Life Chronicles," murmured Azathan. His deep voice was smoother than the blowing wind. "Be careful, as long as you watch it, you become more vulnerable to attack.""Why don't you attack me then?" Arlo questioned.Azathan laughed, like an old chimney wheezing smoke. "Attack you at your weakest moment? I do not need such lowly deeds," he said. "But there's a wretched spirit in this place eager to do so. Just watch."Then, as swiftly as he had appeared, Azathan vanished in a cold red mist. Leaving Arlo alone in the courtyard of Darklake House. Or at leas
The attack came faster than a blink. Arlo sighed in frustration, then drew his ornate sword from the canvas painting, trying to conceal his disappointment at its fragile and rusty texture."If anyone else heard you say that, they might think I'm the villain here," he muttered. He weighed the ornate sword for a moment before pointing it at Riley. "But fine, as a gracious guest, I'll tell you why I'm here. I saw you this evening haunting Sheila and her baby's lives. Long story short, I want you to return to hell."Riley furrowed his brow. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said. "Leave this place now if you want to leave in one piece."Arlo tilted his head, tightening his grip on the ornamental sword. "You realize I could quote you on that too, right?" he retorted. "I want you to leave this world and let Sheila live in peace."Suddenly, more swords appeared, swirling around Riley's head. Some were ornamental like Arlo's, but others were real. Arlo quickly noticed the superior
In a split second before the swords could touch his skin, Arlo raised his hand and shouted, "Wait!"Riley heard him and halted his attack, causing the swords to hover restlessly around Arlo like fireflies."I want to know why you're haunting Sheila's life! She hasn't done anything wrong to you!" Arlo exclaimed.Logan scoffed. "That's none of your concern, kid," he muttered. "You'd better head back to the Manor. We've dealt with you enough. Come on, Riley!"Surprisingly, Riley obeyed Logan, immediately releasing his swords to clatter onto the worn carpet. The twins then vanished, leaving Arlo alone in the haunted house.Arlo knelt among the swords, immensely relieved. Yet, there was one thing that left him dissatisfied. He still didn't know why Logan was haunting Sheila and harboring such intense animosity towards her baby. And he was genuinely annoyed that ghosts had telekinetic powers.After making peace with himself, Arlo walked home. Half an hour later, he arrived, embracing his br
"Oh God, save me from the strange quarrels between my son and his son," grumbled Lord Xavian as he joined the breakfast table the next morning.Arlo purposely didn't look up, just scowling at his breakfast of bread, meat, fries, and a bit of melted cheese."That's why I believe our son shouldn't have children before marriage," murmured Lady Chandie across from Arlo, enjoying her breakfast while reading the newspaper."As I've said," Lord Xavian winked at Kieran and Arlo, "Adopting a child is a brave act. But dealing with their quirks post-adolescence requires not just bravery, but gentleness.""I'm tired of hearing your advice, Father," grumbled Kieran. "Clearly useless if the child won't even speak to you from the start.""Yep," chimed in Arlo. "Clearly useless."Xavian smiled knowingly and began eating his breakfast. "So," he muttered after the first bite. "Last night, did you go to Darklake's house or Silverwood's?"Kieran's utensils clattered onto his plate. He stared sharply at h
As the sun slowly dipped below the horizon, Arlo savored his tea. He tried to blend in, sitting beneath the pavilion, engrossed in a basic magic book. His keen eyes kept watch on every servant and gardener heading home.Unbeknownst to him, Lady Chandie entered the pavilion. She placed a pair of extraordinarily lavish and beautiful swords on his table."As you requested," Lady Chandie said, a faint smile playing on her lips as she took a seat beside Arlo. "A pair of decorative swords made from ordinary iron, yet sturdy and sharp enough.""Thank you, Chandie," Arlo muttered, swiftly tucking the swords into his sword belt. "As promised, I will duel Kieran with these and reconcile with him.""Of course, Nyxshade always keeps their word," Lady Chandie replied. "Besides, it's a fitting promise. Ever since gaining the blacksmith's magical powers, I've never made toy swords. My son even started using real swords as soon as he learned to walk.""Yeah, but I'm not your son, I'm your grandson,"
Logan's youthful, alive skin contrasted sharply with the black shirt he wore today, causing him to stand for a long time in front of Sheila's house window, contemplating at lightning speed whether he should return home to change his clothes or simply muster the courage to knock on her door.But he could hear Sheila's singing inside the house, and her quick, hurried footsteps crossing room after room. Eventually, the girl exclaimed in frustration, "Gosh, Sheila! What were you thinking? Logan wouldn't care about anything you wear!"Upon hearing his name mentioned, Logan burst into laughter. Suddenly, the burden he felt on his shoulders disappeared. He promptly tapped on the tightly closed window. "Hey, Sheila! You're right, I don't care what you wear because you always look beautiful!""Logan?" The window leaf promptly opened, and Sheila gazed at him with her beautiful eyes. "Why are you late?"Logan smiled softly. "Sorry, I'm just like you," he muttered. "I stood here for five minutes