The next day, the sun shone brightly over the high, jagged peaks surrounding the Crimson Castle. A firm knock sounded on John's heavy oak door. Standing there was Zeno, dressed in travel leathers and busy securing a long, sheathed sword to his back.
"Listen, John, I'm afraid your training has to wait a bit," he said, his voice curt and focused. "I will be going on a mission for the Clan. It is important and requires my immediate attention. If I come back and all is well, then we will begin your training immediately. Is that okay?"
John, still feeling the quiet pang of loneliness from the previous night, shrugged and gave a casual answer. "Yes, is cool, Uncle Zeno."
Zeno nodded, satisfied, and turned to leave, his long coat swirling behind him.
Only a few minutes later, the door swung open again and Carmilla stepped in, already looking cheerful and energetic. She wore dark, fitted training clothes that suggested she was about to head out for a workout. She was staring at him for a few seconds before she finally spoke.
"Hello, John! Are you feeling better today?" she asked, concern soft in her black eyes.
"Yo, Carmilla, how you doin'?" John replied, immediately sitting up.
"I am doing well, John, thank you for asking."
Then Zeno poked his head back into the room. "Carmilla, please introduce John to Thomas and Richard today. He needs to meet the rest of the family while I'm gone."
"Yes, Father." Carmilla gave Zeno a sharp, dutiful nod. "Come on, John, follow me."
John followed Carmilla out of the living quarters and down a wide, spiraling stone staircase that eventually opened into the castle's massive outdoor courtyard. The area was paved with worn stone and contained several elaborate training setups: heavy wooden dummies, archery targets, and sword racks.
Near the center, two boys were engaged in a sparring match with impressive speed and precision. They stopped abruptly as John and Carmilla arrived.
The older of the two, the taller one, was Richard. He was twenty-one, with blond hair and a slim, muscular build, clearly more mature than the others. The younger one was Thomas, who was the same age as Carmilla, fifteen years old, and also had blond hair.
"Hey, Carmilla, did you also come to train? And who is the kid?" Richard asked, wiping sweat from his brow.
Before Carmilla could start a formal introduction, John stepped forward, his inherent, friendly directness kicking in. "Yo, I am John."
Carmilla quickly stepped in. "John is our new family member, and he will be staying with us, so please be nice."
Thomas looked genuinely confused. "What do you mean, new family member, Carmilla?"
"John is your cousin," Carmilla explained. "He is the child of Aunt Angeline, who is your father's youngest and only sister. You wouldn't know because you were not here when they arrived."
Thomas and Richard immediately approached John. They both extended their hands to greet him with a firm handshake. John felt a surprising surge of happiness inside. On Earth, he had no family besides his mother and father. Meeting these cousins, these strange, powerful people, felt comforting.
After the greeting, Richard, ever the enthusiast, asked John, "John, do you want to train with us? We're just working on basic grappling and striking."
John replied honestly, "I have no training in hand-to-hand combat, but I can throw a punch."
Carmilla quickly interjected, worry clear in her voice. "John, you do not have to fight. You just arrived."
But John waved his hands dismissively. "It's cool. I have to fight one way or another, right?" He then turned his attention to Carmilla. "By the way, Carmilla, can you fight? I mean, you are a vampire."
Then, like an epiphany, a thought struck him about the sunlit courtyard. "Wait, how are you guys in the sun? Shouldn't you burn or something like that?"
Richard and Thomas exchanged looks, then burst out laughing. Carmilla shook her head and smiled. "No, silly. We of the Crimson Clan do not have those weaknesses. Our bloodline is different."
Richard stepped forward, his eyes serious. "We do not die from the sun, but we could die from the Hellflame."
"What is the Hellflame?" John asked, his confusion deepening as he grasped the unique rules of this world.
"Everybody is different, John," Richard explained. "Some are born with the ability to control some of the elements, like fire or ice. We of the Crimson Clan control the Hellflame. Only a select few people of our bloodline ever manifest the ability to wield it. My father, Markus, for example, has never manifested his Hellflame, even after all these years, but my uncle Zeno has. The ability usually manifests when a vampire is eighteen; some get it later, but others may never get to wield it. Thomas, however, has not manifested his yet, and that is normal because he is obviously not eighteen or older. But here is the key: our bloodline grants us the resistance to the sun's rays automatically. We can walk in the sun even if we can't wield the Hellflame power."
He paused, his voice turning grave. "But what I mean by could die by the Hellflame is, when a vampire cannot control his fire ability, the Hellflame can rage out of control and kill the user. Did nobody tell you this?"
"John is not from this planet, so he does not know anything," Carmilla interjected quickly, sensing John's vulnerability. "However, Father is going to train him."
"You do not have to train if you do not want to, John," Thomas offered, seeing the bruises on John's heart.
"Nah, I'll throw some hands," John insisted. He had to prove his worth, if only to himself.
Thomas and John stood opposite each other in the center of the courtyard. Thomas looked eager but controlled; John looked determined. Richard, adopting the role of referee, screamed: "FIGHT!"
John immediately raised his arms in a rudimentary fighting stance. He had watched a few boxing matches on TV and had some experience in schoolyard scuffles, but this was different. He was fighting a vampire. "Let's see what this new body is made of," John thought, focusing on the powerful, dense feeling in his limbs.
Thomas moved first, a quick jab aimed at John's head. John managed to block it, the impact jarring but not breaking his guard. Then John threw his own punch, slow and telegraphed. Thomas, with barely a flicker of movement, countered him perfectly with an overhand punch to John's jaw.
John collapsed instantly, falling hard onto his back. He was dizzy and looked confused. "How did you do that? I didn't even see it!"
"Do you have enough?" Thomas asked, stepping back and waiting patiently.
"No, we're just getting started." John struggled back to his feet, fueled by pure stubbornness. Carmilla looked nervous as she watched the brutal, one-sided battle unfold.
Meanwhile, high atop the castle ramparts, hidden from view, Anna and Lord Leonidas watched the youths training in the courtyard. Anna, her expression soft, turned to her mate.
"What do you think, honey? How does our daughter's child fare?" Anna asked, leaning her hand on the parapet.
Lord Leonidas, his expression unreadable, replied dismissively: "The boy is weak. He fights like a common human."
Anna smiled gently. "It's because he is still new. But do you think he has the potential to become strong?"
"No," Leonidas repeated, the word absolute. He then turned and walked away, his deeply hued formal robe sweeping over the stone.
Anna watched John below, who was now dodging two punches for every punch he threw. Her smile widened. "He will prove you wrong, Leo. I believe in my daughter's child."
John and Thomas fought each other for thirty-seven minutes. It was a savage, one-sided battle with Thomas easily in the lead, but John refused to quit. John was covered in sweat and bruises, his lip was split, and his nose was bleeding.
"Let's end this, John," Thomas said, his own breathing hardly labored.
"No, let's keep going," John replied, stubbornly wiping the blood from his mouth with the back of his hand.
Thomas respected the resilience. "Listen, if you can land one hit on me, I'll give you the win, but I'll try to knock you out with the next blow. Is that okay, John?"
John, utterly out of breath, gasped for air. "Let's go."
Thomas moved with surprising speed, a blur heading straight for John's head. It was the perfect knockout blow. But as Thomas closed the distance, something within John clicked. His left eye began to glow red, a vibrant, supernatural crimson that briefly flared with internal light. In that instant, Thomas's movement seemed to slow down, stretching out the time between them. John saw the punch coming and felt every nerve in his body snap into perfect alignment.
John, with an instinctive, snake-like move, dodged by ducking under the blow. Thomas was completely off-balance, his own momentum carrying him forward.
"How is this possible?!" Thomas gasped, his punch whistling through empty air.
John grinned, the crimson glow in his left eye fading slightly. "My turn."
Staying low, John drove upward with the density of his new muscles, launching a furious, desperate uppercut that caught Thomas square under the jaw.
The connection was like a thunderclap. Thomas was lifted off his feet and blown back several feet, skidding across the stone pavement. He was dizzy for a few seconds but quickly recovered his footing, looking up, wide-eyed, seeing John standing over him.
John held his bruised hands high above his head. "I win!" he declared, before his legs gave out. He collapsed immediately onto the ground, utterly exhausted, a bloody but triumphant smile etched on his face.