Rylan's POV:
The sterile smell of antiseptic hit me before the sliding doors even opened.
The clinic's fluorescent lights buzzed, casting a pallid glow over cracked linoleum. I stood at the reception, my black coat collar up.
"Mr. Varkesh?" A thin voice called.
Dr. Mirian, mid‑forties, her hair tied in a tired knot, gestured me into her magnificent office. Files were neatly stacked, a single picture of a smiling girl in a pink hoodie sat on her desk.
She didn't waste time. "Rylan, it's about your sister."
I arched a brow. "Daisy?"
"I'm sorry. The tests came back. Daisy has stage 4 acute lymphoblastic leukemia. She's… four months, maybe less. The chemo isn't working."
Her eyes flickered to my face, scanning it as if she was trying to read my thoughts.
I exhaled deeply.
Ever since that night that we felt that immense pressure, Daisy had been in the hospital.
And now here I was, trying to digest the news that she had stage 4 cancer.
"Mr. Varkesh," Dr. Mirian called, leaning towards me. "You know what you are. If you… y'know... bite her, she could become like you. Immortality and stuff, pain turned to nothing."
My throat tightened.
The thought of sinking fangs into Daisy's fragile wrist, turning her laughter into a cold, endless night, made my stomach churn.
I stepped back, shaking my head.
"No. No way I'd let her suffer that. I'd rather watch her die with her humanity intact."
I turned, the door slamming behind me.
"I can't… I just can't."
I muttered to the empty hallway.
^ ^ ^
Moonlight filtered through broken panes, casting jagged shadows on concrete.
A figure draped in a black cloak tossed a glossy envelope onto a rusted metal table.
The seal bore a familiar sigil, a bat with twin crescents.
"Rylan Varkesh," the voice rasped. "The contract. Kill him. No hesitation."
My hand trembled as I broke the seal. A single photograph stared back at me.
It was Kael, his familiar grin now twisted in a grainy snapshot. A red circle marked his chest.
My heart pounded.
Kael?
Why Kael?
The world tilted.
Vampires didn't usually give me contracts to kill humans, unless the reward was beyond gold.
The parchment beneath the photo read:
Target: Kael Thorne. Possesses Twin Fragments. Immediate extermination required. Failure incurs death of all you hold dear.
I slammed the paper onto the table, my eyes flaring with pure anger. The whisper of the night wind sounded like a warning.
Ain't no way they'd expect me to murder my best friend.
No fucking way.
By the time I looked up, the man was gone.
"Rylan?" A soft voice called from the shadows.
A silhouette stepped forward.
Leisa stood there,her deadly eyes glowing with mischief.
"You've got the picture. You know what that means."
My mind raced, thoughts of Daisy's dying breath colliding with Kael's trusting smile. I clenched my fists tightly as my fangs came out.
"Why?" I growled. "Why Kael?"
Leisa tilted her head, smile widening.
"Because, Rylan, he's a threat. A threat to everything existing in Gargaloth," she said slowly, trying so hard to suppress her anger.
"You already know what to do."
After saying that, she left.
The warehouse door slammed shut. Darkness swallowed the light.
Kael... whyyyyyy??
° ° °
Kael's POV:
I looked around my surroundings, trying to process what's going on.
And then I remembered!
I was in that place I found myself the first time I touched the blue box that old woman gave me.
I noticed I wasn't alone. I saw a figure move.
Oh yeah, it was the silhouette from earlier, the keeper of the blue box.
But the man just stood there, unfazed, like this was another casual Tuesday, while blue flames emanated from his body. His wings were no longer in sight.
He turned to me slowly. His eyes weren't human. Too calm. Too old. Too… knowing.
"Kael," he said, like he'd known me forever.
My mouth was dry.
The last time I checked, he barely did a proper introduction.
"Who the hell are you?" I asked again.
He looked around, exhaled once, then lowered his head. The blue flames dissolved into thin air, vanishing like they were never real.
"I'm the Keeper of the Blue Box just as you've heard," he said. "And you… you're holding a power you don't understand."
"No shit," I snapped, louder than I intended.
"I just got attacked, nicely sliced in two parts, and then my body came back together like I was some vampire ninja or something. So yeah, I don't understand ANYTHING!"
He didn't flinch. He didn't even blink.
Instead, he stepped closer, slow enough to show he wasn't hostile, firm enough to show he didn't care if I ran.
"That was just a tip of the iceberg," he said in a cold voice that made my brain shiver.
"The Voidborne pact haven't even come to fetch you, not to talk about the vampires who'd want your head at the moment."
I froze.
"The what?"
"The Voidborne pact."
His jaw tightened as he said it.
"A clan so old and so dangerous that they'd do anything they deem necessary to survive."
"I know about vampires, but I haven't heard anything about The Voidborne Pact." I said with a certain unease.
"They're so dangerous that there's no history about them. They erased everything. Names, history, bloodlines... gone. Not forgotten. Deleted."
My skin crawled.
He continued, voice steady, factual, like he was explaining weather patterns.
"They were assassins born from the void. They didn't fight for kingdoms or gods. They fought for themselves. For hunger. For sport. Their entire existence became a threat so massive that even the Archives wrote them out."
I swallowed hard.
"And they're back?"
"They never left. They simply don't want to be known."
He pointed to my right hand, which was glowing softly. For a second, it felt like the whole room leaned toward it.
"The power you wield, it belongs to them. It doesn't grant you any power," he said.
"It awakens your sins, weakness and desires, and later uses it against you."
I looked down at my hands. I noticed my left hand was glowing seriously with red sparks coming out my skin. It seems to be reacting to the blue power around me.
"What power?" I asked, still staring at my left arm.
He took a moment before answering, like he was choosing his words carefully.
"You have something in you that both demons and the vampires fear. And trust me, Kael…it's bad news."
A cold rush went through my spine.
"And what exactly is in me?" I pressed.
"You see... we Voidbornes were made from the void, mixed with the sins of demons and vampires. As you can see, I don't have an actual body," he said, floating around like a paper plane.
"Demons and vampires are allergic to us, Voidbornes, which is why your left hand is reacting violently because this place is a void. A void I created from your mind."
I scratched my brain in confusion.
"Three fragments of power were removed from the first descendant of each race. Demons, Voidbornes & vampires. And now you're fused with two fragments," he said.
"A dominant power lies in you. Inherited. Unclaimed. Old as the first war. You're not chosen. You're not blessed."
He looked me dead in the eyes.
"You're built for something the demons want to prevent, the vampires want to erase, and the Voidbornes want to use since we can't kill one of our own."
My breath stuttered.
"Why me? Why not someone stronger? Someone who actually has power?"
His answer was simple:
"Because power isn't the same thing as potential."
I blinked.
"That sounds like a fortune cookie."
"It's the truth," he said. "And the truth is messy. You're human, Kael. That's your weakness. And also your advantage."
I didn't understand, and the frustration bubbled in my chest.
He seemed to notice.
"You want this to be simple. Good versus evil. You get power. You go avenge your sister."
I clenched my fists.
"But it's not simple," he said. "The Voidborne power you wield is meant to destroy it's host. Since you seek revenge against the demon King, you'll need to use it, whereas bringing yourself to your doom."
My entire world tilted sideways.
"You're.. you're kidding right?"
"I'm not," he said quietly.
"I'm giving you the truth you deserve. You want vengeance? Then you take control of what's inside you, which is literally impossible."
"And you?" I asked.
"Why are you helping me?"
For the first time, something changed in his expression, it was a flicker of emotion. Not kindness. Not pity. More like… history.
He stepped back.
"Because I owe my brother a debt."
I stared.
"Your… brother?" He nodded once.
"My name is Vyrion Lokh. Cursed keeper of the Voidborne fragment. First Warden of the Archives. And the brother of Vrythlok Lokh."
My stomach dropped.
"Vrythlok?"
"The King of the Voidborne Pact."
"You're his brother?"
"Yes," he answered.
"Which is why you need to understand something clearly."
His voice dropped to something cold. Heavy. "If you want revenge… if you want to survive… if you want to face Arla…" he pointed at my right hand.
"Open up your soul to it. Claim what's yours. Start the path. But you can choose not to because…"
His eyes hardened.
"It'll only consume your soul with an insatiable bloodlust."
"I don't care." I said.
So far I get revenge, that's all I'm after.
I don't care about what it takes.
"Very good then, because once you're awake, I'll no longer be friendly towards you," he said with a menacing smile.
"I'm willing to do anything." I muttered.
He snapped his fingers and I woke up
° ° °
Arla's POV
It was freezing cold when I landed at the Dexith empire.
My legion descended as a statement. It was like a hundred warriors in polished ebony armor landing in perfect unison on the sprawling parade grounds, their wingbeats a single, thunderous clap that shook the towers of Leisa's family estate.
The grand doors of the keep were already open.
Lord Kaelen, Leisa's father, stood there, arms crossed over his broad chest. His expression was a masterpiece of dry amusement.
"A full legion, Arla?" He called out, his voice echoing across the courtyard.
"You know, for a man who can open a portal from his bathing chamber, you do have a flair for the dramatic entrance. Couldn't you just… knock?"
I chuckled, my boots touching the black marble as I dismissed my wings.
"Where's the fun in that, old friend?" I strode towards him, my gaze already sliding past his shoulder into the main hall. "A knock doesn't remind your neighbors who they're living next to."
His hall was as opulent as ever, but it wasn't empty.
Three seafolk diplomats from the eastern kingdoms stood near the roaring hearth with their scales shimmering in the firelight. They looked tense, unnerved by our sudden arrival.
"My apologies for the interruption, gentle-creatures," I said, my voice cutting through the room's tension. I didn't look at the guests, my focus entirely on Kaelen. "Vut we need to talk. Now."
Kaelen's eyes narrowed, the humor fading into something sharp and serious.
He gave a slight nod. "Of course. If you'll excuse us. This is a matter of state security."
The seafolk bowed and were swiftly guided out by silent servants.
The moment the great doors sealed, the atmosphere shifted.
The warmth of the fire seemed to retreat.
We sat in heavy chairs made of pure gold while facing the hearth. I didn't waste a second.
"Vrythlok is moving," I said, the name hanging in the air like a threat.
"He's not just gathering forces. He's actively seeking a catalyst. He means to start the war, Kaelen. A goddamn war."
Kaelen leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers.
"The Voidborne Pact has been quiet for a millennium. Why now?"
"He thinks he's found a way to win. A mortal has bonded with two of the Triple Fragments."
Kaelen's head snapped up.
"Is that even possible?"
"It shouldn't be. But it happened. Vrythlok will see the boy as either the ultimate weapon or the greatest threat. Either way, he'll make his play for him. And when he does, the bloodshed won't just be in the shadows this time. It will be at our gates."
He was silent for a long moment, staring into the flames.
"What do you need from me?"
"Your legions. Your voice in the Conclave. When the time comes, we cannot be divided. If we are, Vrythlok will pick us apart. He won't stop until our thrones are dust and his shadow is all that remains."
Kaelen let out a long, weary breath. It was the sound of peace crumbling.
"You'll have them," he said in a low and solid voice.
"Leisa's already involved, isn't she?"
I met his gaze.
"She made herself involved."
He nodded slowly, a father's worry flashing in his eyes before being replaced by a warlord's resolve.
"Then there's no turning back."
"No,"
I agreed, the weight of the coming storm settling between us.
"There isn't."
° ° °
3 AM.
Rylan stood under a flickering streetlight, the coppery taste of animal blood sharp on his tongue from his flask.
The city was a tomb at this hour, too quiet. That's when he felt it... a prickle on the back of his neck. The unmistakable weight of a gaze.
"Come out," he said, the words laced with annoyance as his voice cut through the silence.
From the deep shadows between two buildings, a figure emerged.
A smile ghosted across its lips, and two points of cool, blue light fixed on me. its eyes.
As it stepped fully into the jaundiced glow of the streetlight, Rylan's blood went cold. It was the old woman from the accident. The one who had given Kael the box.
He froze.
Her eyes... they weren't human.
They swirled with the same impossible, cosmic blue energy that had erupted from that damned box.
"I need to speak with you, Mr. Rylan Varkesh," she whispered, her voice layered with an ancient, echoing power.
* * * * *