Astra's pulse thudded beneath his skin as the bishop's smile curved toward him, refined and unreadable. The weight of the man's presence pressed down on the room like a second ceiling—unseen, but undeniable. Astra steadied his grip on the champagne flute, the crystal rim cool against his fingertips. He raised it with idle grace, masking the unease coiling in his chest.
The bishop didn't speak. He didn't need to. A mere flick of his eyes toward the door was enough.
Astra stepped forward. Measured. Smooth. Collected. Just another noble following a bishop into a side discussion—at least, that's most should believe.
They moved down a quiet, dimly lit corridor. The heavy hush of the tapestries lining the walls soaked up the sound of their footfalls. Every inch of fabric shimmered faintly, reflecting patterns too intricate to name, their threads dyed in deep shadow and age-old secrets.
Around Lord Alistair, the darkness seemed alive. The shadows curled and slithered at his heels like obedient hounds, responding to his presence with reverence. Astra's own shadows remained still. Passive. Unwilling to draw attention. He could feel their silence.
Don't let him subjugate you. He reminded himself of that, quietly and with steel. He was not a pawn, not another tool. He had survived too much to become disposable. If he showed weakness here—too much deference, too much fear—he'd be seen as exactly what they wanted him to be: a weapon to wield, a name to exploit, a throne to inherit and discard. To make allies, one needed strength. Leverage. The power to give—and the spine to refuse.
The chamber they entered was darkly beautiful: high-backed chairs of lacquered obsidian, deep violet drapes like velvet nightfall, and a table carved from black ash wood. As the door closed behind them with a soft click, the bishop raised a hand.
The shadows obeyed instantly, weaving into the cracks of the room and forming a barrier—a ward of silence and secrecy. The temperature dropped. The air thickened. Astra felt each breath stretch tighter in his chest.
The Bishop turned. His gaze landed like frost.
"Prince Astra Noctis of Night," he said, each syllable sculpted with precise formality. "I am Lord Alistair Tenebrous, Bishop of Shadow. We received your call for aid."
Astra offered a polite nod, his voice calm and cool. "Lord Tenebrous. A pleasure."
"The Council of Shadows was... intrigued," Alistair continued. "A child of Nights lost lineage, bearing godhood. Rare blood, rarer fate. Umbra and Night's lines do not often converge." His smile thinned "In a way, you are kin to me."
Astra matched the gesture with a shallow dip of the head. "Then perhaps this is a long-awaited reunion.
Alistair's eyes twitched at the corner, amused but wary.
"I imagine your Council has questions," Astra said. "As do I. So—how shall we speak of terms?"
Alistair blinked—just once, and slowly. It was subtle, but telling.
"What do you mean, Prince?" he asked at last. "You requested sanctuary. We answered. You will receive protection from the enemies of your house and be integrated into ours. That is the will of the Angel of Shadows."
"Yeah be integrated and used, also so they can take over the Church of Night and even possibly use me for gods knows what, I will never trust them, Good thing I already "control" the church or I would have been in a much worse situation." Astra scoffed inwardly, he had of course been right.
The air seemed to grow heavier with those words. Astra held his composure.
Astra felt it then—the air, sharp and close. The words were spoken plainly, but the subtext was iron.
He offered a slow smile, deliberate and quiet.
"That is their will," Astra said. "Not mine."
The words struck like flint. The silence that followed was absolute.
Alistair's smile faded just a fraction, his eyes narrowing in quiet assessment. Around them. The shadows stirred faintly behind him, deepening, rippling with mood.
Alistair's smile returned, colder now. "Oh? And what is your will, my prince?"
Astra did not hesitate. "To rise. In strength, in power, in name. Not for the sake of the dead, or even for my fallen house—but for the one who will stand in their place."
Of course that had been a lie, made of half the truth the best kind of lie Astra laughed inwardly. He of course had lied. He cared not for duty or even riches, he had been given a key, no two keys and a path to power and influence, fame and glory, why would he enslave himself to a house that could not give a damn about him, especially when he could potentially control a church of an olden god and even command his own house.
It was stupid and naive but what else could he do? Die or be enslaved? what choice did he have?
Astra smiled darkly.
Why not see how far he could rise? how far he perhaps will fall. Shadow must think im some desperate idiot, but they are still cautious and smart, as expected, they must have tried to find me and couldnt, after all for them to break through the godhoods effects the cloak of shadows they'd need a person or artifact of equal levels, and it seems they do not have such a thing. So they need me. Astra was no genius but he had been given too many hints and had seen too much of the political state of the realm to realize that shadow needed him more then ever. Of course if he was wrong it would be terribly embarrassing and would lower his status to unreal levels but he believed he was right.
Shadow believed him cornered. Weak. A lost heir clinging to old names. But Astra had seen through the veil. He'd walked too far in the dark to fear it anymore.
They needed him.
The signs were all there—subtle, yes, but not hidden. If they had the means to find him through his second godhood's veil, they would have. But they hadn't. And now, here they were, offering alliance in velvet words, wearing smiles carved from strategy.
Dawn. Dusk. Dune. And Shadow. The four powers that jostled for control in Sahara. Three were royal. One was not. And yet House Shadow stood among them like a golden serpent in a court of lions, hawks and owls—unrecognized, but no less deadly. War was coming. Astra could feel it in the politics, in the air, in the tension between houses that no longer pretended to be allies. Shadow needed support. And Astra… was a symbol. A wedge. A spark and most importantly a way to annex a whole Church.
He looked Alistair in the eyes, steady.
"I will not be integrated Umbras banner as an adopted, not in reality. . I will retain Sovereignty of Night as is my right and duty. The line of Noctis still breathes, and it will not be erased. I understand Shadow had tried and failed multiple times to divine my location. Ever wonder why?, I am not so simple oh lord Bishop, So let us stop this farce." Astra replied coldly trying his hardest not to shake as he spoke in such a tone to a Demi god.
For a heartbeat, silence reigned. The shadows curled. Coiled. Testing.
"That will be noted," Alistair finally said. His voice was harder now. "Then what is it you demand oh Prince?"
Astra stepped forward, as if claiming space with words before weapons.
"One. Asylum and protection and training, as promised. Two. Sovereignty and full rights as heir to Noctis and godbearer of Night. Three. An equal alliance between our powers—me, my assets, and House Shadow."
Astra did not mention the Cloak of Shadows, he was wary of the angels, who knew what could happen had they learned he bore a godhood from their dead goddess. perhaps nothing, or perhaps a fate worse than death. Either way Astra was not willing to find out.
Alistair scoffed. "You ask much. I hear only the voice of a prince clinging to 'me, me, me.' Why should we the great House Shadow indulge such bold demands, when it is you who stand in need?"
Astra chuckled softly, the sound smooth as silk and twice as dangerous. " True, yet you need me, you need me to get to the Church of Night. You need me to garnish support for your upcoming war and you need me to gain an advantage over Dawn and Dusk."
That changed the atmosphere.
He continued smiling, as he spoke with confidence, "I doubt Shadow hadn't expected me to be in contact with the Church of Night, and I am here to tell you I am not only in contact but am already In charge of the Church to a certain degree and had even gotten support on certain matters regarding this, and I know just how badly Shadow needs support right now.
"I Astra Noctis swear this upon my own godhood."
By doing this Astra essentially signed a contract proving he was not lying, if he were he would have faced backlash or harsh punishments perhaps even death. After all he is using his godhoods high levels!
Alistair's brows lifted ever so slightly. Alistair was inwardly shocked. He had underestimated this rank one. That alone was a victory for Astra.
"If that is the case then it changes things, The Council of Shadows had expected such a possibility but believed it to be nigh impossible, Hmm. If thats the case then our terms have changed."
A pause. Then, with a tone wrapped in diplomacy:
"Shadow asks of you to be integrated under our ranks officially, Unofficially, your sovereignty remains intact. The Church stays yours—but aligns with us. In exchange, you gain a seat in our council. You will be expected to support our schemes—unless they conflict directly with your own interests. A generous compromise, I think."
Astra smiled.
So they had planned for this. For all of it. From his weakness to his potential. Even this outcome was on their map. But that was fine.
He would play the game—for now.
"I accept," Astra said.
And Bishop Alistair smiled.
[Contract set]
[Alliance, Shadow and Night.]
"Let's talk soon," the bishop said, his voice taking on an almost amused tone as he turned to leave. "But be careful, Astra. This place is full of eyes. You never know who's watching."
The shadows seemed to follow the bishop as he melted back into the crowd, leaving Astra standing alone in the room.
For a brief moment, Astra allowed himself a deep breath, his pulse still racing. He hadn't anticipated this kind of encounter, let alone so early into the night. But one thing was certain: his journey was far from over, and the eyes of the powerful were now fixed on him. but for once he had allies.
He had played his cards carefully so far, but the game was growing more dangerous with every passing second.
Astra made sure not to mention the Angel of Steel as the Dwarven Angel had already done more than enough, plus he wasn't sure what the politics of the situation was so what right did he have to announce it
Taking a moment to collect himself, Astra knew one thing—he couldn't afford to make any missteps. Not now, and certainly not in the heart of House Dune's territory
Astra returned to the ball with a newfound sense of calm, the shadows of the previous conversation still lingering but now tempered with a quiet confidence.
The lavish hall stretched before him, the gentle hum of chatter filling the air as the party continued around him. The opulent decor and lively atmosphere had lost some of its overwhelming charm, and Astra finally began to settle into the crowd.
The pressure of his earlier encounter with the bishop still pressed against his chest, but now, surrounded by high-ranking nobles and others of stature, Astra realized that the eyes on him weren't all filled with suspicion or challenge. Some of them were filled with curiosity... and others, with something far more interested.
As he stood by the grand marble pillars, enjoying a drink and trying to blend in, a group of young women approached, their eyes locked onto him the moment they saw him standing alone.
They were all dressed in fine gowns—elegant but not nearly as grand as those worn by the highest of House Dune. Still, they carried an air of entitlement, their postures straight and their smiles sharp.
"Well, well, isn't this the mysterious young noble we've been hearing so much about?" one of them said, her voice sweet and coy.
Astra raised an eyebrow, the practiced charm flickering across his face like a mask. He was no stranger to attention, but something about these women felt different—more eager, more... desperate.
"House Shadow," another one chimed in, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. "Tell us, what is it like? The city of Penumbra, in the Umbral Plains, I hear it's as mysterious as it is beautiful."
Astra hesitated for only a split second. He'd never been to Penumbra himself, but he wasn't about to let that stop him. He gave them a charming smile, the silver-tongued noble persona slipping into place effortlessly.
"Penumbra? Oh, I'd rather not talk about it," Astra said smoothly, glancing down at his drink before meeting their eyes again.
"A city in the shadows, after all, it's not the kind of place to reveal too much about. But," he added with a playful twinkle in his eye, "I can say this—it's far less interesting than the company I'm in tonight."
He motioned lightly to them, his smile widening just enough to leave them flustered. The subtle way he drew attention to their beauty left them momentarily speechless, a slight blush creeping into their cheeks as they all exchanged glances.
"Ah, you flatter us," one of the women giggled, clearly taken aback. "But you're just as elusive as they say, Astra. Why not share more about yourself?"
Astra leaned in just slightly, his posture confident and his words flowing easily. "There's not much to say, really."
But, I can tell you that the world is full of much more interesting things than my home. And certainly," he said with a sly smile, "much more interesting than I."
The women chuckled, one of them even nudging another in an almost mischievous way. They were clearly enjoying the playful banter, but Astra could sense something else—a hunger beneath their words. It wasn't just about him; it was about status, about aligning with a rising noble.
"So, tell us, Astra," the same woman from earlier continued, leaning closer. "What brought you to House Dune's ball tonight? I thought House Shadow preferred to stay hidden in the well shadows."
"No way she just did that" Astra thought as his smile deepened as he lowered his voice. "I think the shadows have a way of pulling you in, no matter how much you try to avoid them," he said, his gaze slipping briefly to the far side of the hall where the bishop had left moments ago.
"But what matters now... is this party. And the fine company I'm keeping tonight." He turned his focus back to the women, subtly drawing their attention back to the present moment. "Perhaps, we should focus on this. After all, who wants to talk about shadows when we have such lovely faces around?"
The women, already entranced, giggled, the tension between them evaporating. Astra could practically feel the air grow lighter, as if his words had distracted them from whatever underlying intentions they may have had.
The rest of the conversation played out in a similar fashion. They asked him questions, some about House Shadow, others about himself, but Astra skillfully deflected them, turning every question into a compliment or a playful remark that kept them all flustered.
They fawned over him, complimenting his looks and his air of mystery, even offering their own flirtations in return.
Astra's charm was almost effortless, and with each passing moment, he felt his confidence rise. He wasn't just another pretty face in the crowd—he was Astra Noctis of House Night, and in this world of endless games, he would play his part to perfection. but for now he was hiding in the shadows.
As the women continued to dote on him, Astra couldn't help but reflect on the subtle power he was wielding.
This wasn't just about beauty or status; it was about controlling the narrative, about stepping into a world where perception was everything, and he was shaping it with every word, every gesture, every glance.
For now, the ball seemed a bit more like his stage. And he was playing the part.
Astra felt the unmistakable weight of Princess Seraphine's glare, sharp as a blade, cutting through the pleasant chatter around him.
He excused himself from the women with practiced ease, offering them a quick smile and a promise to continue their conversation later. As he made his way across the room, he couldn't help but feel Princess Seraphine's gaze on the back of his neck, heavy and almost predatory.
She didn't make a move to approach him directly, but her eyes flicked to the side, a clear motion for him to follow.
Astra's heart beat a little faster—not from fear, but from a growing sense of intrigue. There was something in Seraphine's eyes, something he couldn't quite place, that made him wonder just how much she knew and how much she was willing to reveal.
He followed her through the labyrinth of the grand hall, past the gathering nobles, until they finally reached the garden.
The night air was cool, carrying the faint scent of blooming flowers mixed with the faintest hint of warm sand. The garden was bathed in twilight's ethereal glow, the soft light flickering off fountains and pools of water that reflected the stars above.
Seraphine paused as she entered the garden, a knowing smile curving her lips. She stood there for a moment, savoring the ambiance of the garden, before turning her gaze back to Astra.
"So, you disappear with that Bishop," she began, her voice soft but teasing, "then, just as quickly, you're off talking to those women. My oh my Astra, it seems you're quite the player."
Astra raised an eyebrow, but didn't speak right away. Instead, he took in the tranquility of the garden, his eyes following the delicate flow of a nearby fountain. There was something about Seraphine's presence here that seemed to shift the air, changing the mood entirely.
He finally spoke, his voice calm but direct. "Who cares about company like them?" he said with a slight shrug. "It's so obvious what they desire. You, however, are different. I really can't seem to get a read on you, which is strange. I'm usually able to read and see through people's intentions pretty easily."
Seraphine's smile widened at his words, her eyes glinting with amusement, but there was a hidden sharpness behind them. She stepped closer, almost as if closing the distance between them was a deliberate act.
"You're a curious one, Astra," she murmured, her voice now carrying a deeper edge. "Most people try to hide their true desires. But you, you're all mystery and ambiguity, even in a world built on masks and facades. You're different from everyone else here."
The subtle tension between them was palpable, but Astra maintained his calm demeanor. He couldn't deny the pull Seraphine had on him, but he wasn't about to be caught off guard again. He took a step forward, his violet eyes locking with her Sapphire eyes, his voice quieter now, more serious.
"So, Princess" he said, his tone almost conspiratorial, "what is it that you want?"
She stood still for a moment, studying him as if weighing his question, before her smile turned a little more enigmatic.
"What I want?" she repeated softly, her gaze flicking to the moonlit flowers around them, then back to Astra. "Maybe it's not so much about what I want, Astra. Maybe it's more about what you need." Astra did note that she deflected his question
She stepped closer, her presence intoxicating as she let the silence linger.
"But then again," she said, her voice dropping into a soft whisper, "maybe I just enjoy the game."
Astra couldn't help but feel a chill run down his spine, but he kept his expression unreadable. He had no idea where this conversation was heading, but he wasn't about to back down. Instead, he leaned in slightly, matching her tone.
They were incredibly close now, their lips a mere centimeters from each other
"And what game is that?" he asked, his voice barely audible, like they were sharing a secret no one else could hear.
Seraphine's lips parted in a quiet laugh, soft but undeniably confident. She reached out and touched his arm lightly, her fingers grazing his skin in a slow, deliberate motion.
"You'll figure it out soon enough," she said cryptically, before taking a step back. "But for now, let's just enjoy the evening, Astra. After all, tonight is about more than just the game. Also, you may refer to me by my name when it's only us"
With that, she turned, walking toward the edge of the garden, leaving Astra standing in the cool night air, still uncertain of her true intentions, but more intrigued than ever.
What was it she wanted from him? And how much of this encounter had been carefully orchestrated?
The answers felt just out of reach, and yet he couldn't help but feel that the more he played along, the closer he would come to discovering the truth.
Astra stood there for a moment, stunned by the way Seraphine had handled their exchange. It was the first time in a long while that someone—especially a woman—had actually managed to hold their ground against him. Normally, his charm, his looks, and his confidence were more than enough to make most people, especially noble women, fall in line, but not Seraphine. She hadn't been swayed.
A small, almost bitter laugh escaped his lips as he leaned back against the cool stone of the garden's fountain, his mind racing. "Scary," he thought.
"Noble women are truly terrifying". He couldn't quite put his finger on why, but there was something about them—about Seraphine in particular—that made them so much more formidable than anyone else he'd ever encountered.
It wasn't just the beauty, or the charm, or even their social power. It was the way they could manipulate situations with a subtle grace, wielding their influence without ever appearing to exert force. And Seraphine... she had him on edge in a way he couldn't explain. "she's also just so damn pretty, he couldn't stop replaying how close they were, and how her sapphire eyes looked at him...
Astra sighed and lifted his gaze to the heavens, hoping the stars would give him some clarity. But instead of the familiar constellations of he saw a twinkling spectacle that wasn't quite right. The twilight glow from the garden seemed to mix with a strange shimmering haze in the sky, and as he squinted up at it, he could make out the subtle flicker of lights—small, twinkling dots that were clearly not stars.
It was the mark of House Dusk, the unmistakable sigil of their domain. A constellation of distant, shifting stars that had always been a symbol of House Dusk's influence.
The stars themselves weren't real; they were projections, a display of power and prestige, created by the magics of the house.
His hand instinctively reached for the Regal Coin at his side, feeling its weight and the connection it gave him to House Night.
He felt the familiar comfort of the coin's power and wondered—how far could this coin really take him? And how much danger was he in by being here, under the eyes of House Dusk?
He frowned, his mind racing, but a moment later, he composed himself. No need to panic. No need to show weakness. Not in a place like this, not among people like these.
"Scary indeed," Astra muttered under his breath, a wry smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He didn't know what Seraphine wanted, or what any of these houses were after, but he'd be dammed if he let them see him falter."
With a final glance at the twinkling lights above, Astra took a deep breath, straightened himself up, and made his way back into the heart of the ball, ready to continue his dance with the dangerous nobles of House Dune—and whatever other secrets this night might hold.