Walking briskly, Damon stepped through the tall double doors and entered the dining hall, taking in the room with a blank expression.
The morning meal had already been served as thirty children sat divided around three long tables under the warming glow of a crystal chandelier.
Energetic young boys and girls, aged ten to seventeen, lined the benches, hunched over their steaming plates. A few whispered behind cupped hands, trading glances and subtle grins, yet they dared not speak loudly as the attendants walked by.
These women wore sleek, fitting black suits as if they worked in an office. However, as unique individuals hired by the house matriarch, they proved to be more than meets the eye, filling several essential roles throughout the orphanage, from teaching lessons to planning meals.
And at the centre of it all was that very matriarch, Lady Morrigan. Her crimson blouse and tailored black trousers seemed to quietly match the attire of her subordinates, yet were rather striking when paired with her snow-pale skin and silky white hair.
Furthermore, although her slender frame was lacking compared to some of the athletic figures working around her, she had a presence none could match. That alone was undeniable. Her eyes were golden in colour and held a deadly calm that seemed to perceive the smallest detail with the watchfulness of a hawk.
"You're late again," said Lady Morrigan, raising a butter knife in her hand. "That's the third time this week. This happens again, and you will be cleaning all the rooms on your floor."
"Yes, Mother," Damon muttered
Noticing Vincent waving at him, he lowered his gaze and made his way to the middle table, where kids around his age sat.
"Good morning, Damon," A raspy voice sounded.
As he slipped into an empty seat beside Fin, whose blue eyes were buried in the pages of a leather-bound book, he saw a black-haired youth tilt his head towards him.
"Morning, brother," Damon replied, nodding toward Henry. He then set his sights on Fin as the sound of pages turning furthered his displeasure.
Compared to the others, he and Fin did spend quite a lot of time together, but Damon often found himself put off by Fin's appearance and his clinginess. He looked rather fragile with his pale skin, chestnut hair, and pink-framed glasses.
"Morning, Damon. You overslept again, didn't you?" smiled Fin,
"You could've woken me," Damon muttered. "That book was in my room."
"I know." Fin turned the page with deliberate grace. "But then how would you learn?"
Damon let out a long sigh and sank into his seat. Across from them, Vincent leaned forward, smug, of course. The devil always looked smug.
Damon ignored him, deciding to focus on his meal. His eyes dropped to the food, and he was left speechless.
It wasn't breakfast. It was a banquet.
Beef brisket. Medium rare steak, glistening in its juices. Devilled eggs, perfectly halved. Smoked sausages. Mashed potatoes with creamy sauce. Peas. A small fruit salad. It was decadent, too decadent.
'This isn't right. Not for a Tuesday.'
Confused, Damon glanced down the table to glean an answer, yet no one else looked surprised. Then it suddenly clicked.
'So training does start today.'
He picked up his fork, cut into a sausage, and took a bite. The flavour bloomed instantly juicy, rich, layered with herbs. For a moment, his guard slipped, and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he realized he was smiling.
That's when Vincent spoke.
"Glad to see you're enjoying yourself, dear brother," he said with that ever-present smirk. "Be sure to eat plenty."
Immediately, the fork froze halfway to Damon's mouth, and his eyes narrowed. Vincent's tone was too casual for the mood he was in after leaving his room earlier.
He looked down at the steaming food again. It was seemingly perfect, yet now he had a suspicion that something had been altered.
'No. He wouldn't… Not in front of Mother Morrigan. Not with the attendants watching.'
But Vincent was still watching him with a deepened smile. And that alone was enough to make Damon's stomach twist.
He needed an out.
Turning to his left, he spotted his round-faced brother Josh chewing a slice of meat. He was the perfect scapegoat. The curly-haired glutton was always hungry, no matter how much he ate; however, Damon was honestly clueless about where Josh was putting all those calories in his short frame.
"Hey, Josh," He called out, flashing his most innocent smile. "You want some extra?"
Hearing those words, Josh blinked, surprised. "Wait, seriously? Can I have it?"
"Of course. We're brothers, aren't we?"
Josh beamed. "Thanks, Damon!"
Damon passed the plate over, resisting the urge to pat him on the head for his noble sacrifice. He leaned back with satisfaction, shooting Vincent a look of silent triumph.
However, Vincent's smile did not falter.
In fact… it deepened.
'Why are you still smiling…?' Damon wondered.
Just as he contemplated confronting Vincent, Lady Morrigan rose from her seat, placing her cup down with a quiet click."Finish your meals, children. Those scheduled for training will follow Vincent to the sensory chamber for affinity testing. The rest of you, don't forget your language and botany classes."
A collective groan immediately rolled across the room like thunder.
"Vincent, do remember to educate all your siblings on the affinities before starting."With a nod to her attendants, Morrigan turned and walked out, Castiel and Jacob trailing after her as the hall settled into a restless quiet.
Then Damon felt it.
A firm and heavy hand gripped his shoulder.
He turned slowly. Vincent stood behind him, dirty blond hair falling slightly into his sharp green eyes. He was smiling like a boy about to commit arson.
"Have mercy," Damon said quickly, voice tight.
"Mercy?" Vincent chuckled darkly. "You're not that lucky."
'I really hate this guy.'
***
Elsewhere…
Flip—
A black-gloved hand turned the page of a report. The movement was practiced, elegant, unhurried.
"You're letting Vincent get away with it again?" Rosa's voice cut through the stillness. She stood by the tall window, glasses catching the morning light. "He used a pain enhancer from my med kit. I'm almost certain he laced Damon's food."
"He didn't go overboard," Morrigan replied, eyes still on her file. "He never does."
Rosa sighed. "He's completed five missions already. Technically perfect, but his clients loathe him."
"I'd be happy to discipline him, if needed," Diana added. The red-haired second attendant stood with her arms folded, her tone flat and unreadable.
"That won't be necessary," Morrigan said. She reached for a different file and handed it to them. "Something more important needs your attention."
Rosa scanned the top page, and her brows furrowed. "Koinonia. Multiple child abductions. All from single-father homes. All vanish between school dismissal and parental return. No sign of forced entry."
"The pattern is escalating," Morrigan said. "And from what I've gathered, no one's doing anything about it."
Diana's eyes didn't move from the report, but her jaw tightened. The paper trembled faintly in her hand. She did not need to read further. After all, she remembered Koinonia's capital all too well.
How could she ever forget the screams?
Since that day, the memory of flames and her father's body limp in her arms was forever etched upon her mind and body.
With a sharp breath, she clenched her fist, and the file turned to ash.
"Hot..!" A wave of heat immediately rippled through the air, causing Jacob, who stood by the door, to flinch while Castiel merely stood silently by his side.
"Use deadly force if necessary," Morrigan said, unfazed. "But keep the collateral to a minimum. It's almost July, and we don't need the churches sniffing around before the summer festival."
"Why aren't they involved already?" Rosa asked. "Surely this threatens the festival's security."
Morrigan allowed herself a faint smile. "That's exactly why I'm sending Castiel. And I suspect our 'guest' in the holding room knows more than he's letting on."
Rosa and Diana exchanged curious glances and said in unison,
"It will be done." They then departed through another corridor
****
Damon jolted awake, heart racing. He gasped, slowly catching his breath as he began to look around.
'Where the hell…?'
Shockingly, he was now standing on grass, surrounded by trees and soft sunlight. A bamboo fountain tapped rhythmically nearby, echoing through a sprawling, pristine garden. The sounds of birds chirping overhead reached his ears, and the air carried a scent like honey and lavender.
It was beautiful and almost surreal.
He took a few steps forward, still dizzy. His fingers brushed against a low-hanging pink blossom.
Then a voice drifted in, quiet and calm. "Beautiful, isn't it?"
Immediately, Damon turned and saw a pale old woman.
She sat beneath a wisteria tree, sipping tea from a porcelain cup. Her hair was pale and long with thin bangs, complementing her face and stern eyes. They were black in colour and resembled bottomless wells that studied him without judgment.
Damon stepped back instinctively.
"Who… who are you?"
"Relax, child. I'm not going to bite," the woman replied, completely still.