Ashteron Vael'Abyss sat quietly as he took his seat at the dining table—his posture straight, his expression calm. The obsidian chair was slightly large for him, but he had grown used to that. The cold surface didn't bother him.
At a signal from Zareth, the imperial butler, the servants moved. The maids in shadow-dyed uniforms stepped into motion, placing food and drink with practiced grace. No words passed between them. There was no need. Every action was part of a pattern long perfected.
Dishes lined the table—roasted shadowbeast, sliced netherfruit, glimmering crystal roots. The goblets held crimson nectar that pulsed faintly with energy. Ash watched in silence, letting his senses extend. He could feel it—traces of mana and elemental force still lingering in the food. The meat held embers of Netherfire. The fruits shimmered with voidlight. Even the drink carried a low resonance, like a sleeping heartbeat.
When Emperor Vael lifted his hand, all movement stopped.
A moment later, everyone began to eat.
There was no chatter, no clatter. Only measured bites, composed gestures. Even in silence, the imperial family moved with a kind of unspoken rhythm—trained, noble, and exact.
When the meal was finished, the maids returned, clearing the table swiftly and efficiently. Only the goblets remained, untouched. Once the space was clean, the children stood, one by one, in order of age.
Lyseria Solari'el, Firstborn Daughter
"Resonant weapon training with the Twin Blades of Eclipse is progressing well. Precision strikes, elemental balance, and domain pre-refinement are my focus. I will reach Tier Three before my tenth year."
She returned to her seat without pause.
Kaelreth Vael'Draykarth, Eldest Son of Valessara
"The Great Infernal Halberd is responding properly. Burst drills are clean, power surges under control. I've started wide-strike training. Progress is steady."
He stepped back.
Saryne Vael'Draykarth, Twin to Kaelreth
"Flame Whip Blade alignment is complete. My focus remains on seamless chaining—burn control, strike flow, and sustained execution."
She sat again.
Malrik Vael'Umbrosyn, Son of Nyrelle
"Void Dagger and Shadow Threads fully attuned. Silent strikes consistent. Binding refinement ongoing through shadowflow conditioning."
Ashteron Vael'Abyss, Youngest Son
Ash stood, his voice even and clear.
"Resonance harmonization is complete. I can perceive layered flows in living matter and objects. Progression remains on track for Tier Three."
He sat once more. There was no praise, only acknowledgment—a quiet nod from the Emperor.
Then, the Wives Stepped Forward
Each wife approached in order, as tradition required.
Elaenora Veyl Seraphyx, First Wife
"The nobles are active in preparation for the solstice. Abyssal Archive shifts have been recorded. Vault Eight may begin awakening."
Valessara Dray'Karth, Second Wife
"New ore veins found in the Fire Realm. Regional tensions rising, but contained. Resource flow remains stable."
Nyrelle Umbrosyn, Third Wife
"Rogue cult activity neutralized near the Nocthys Verge. Surveillance lines are unbroken. No residual threats detected."
Then, finally, Emperor Vael Drakthar lifted his head, gaze sweeping across his progeny and consorts like a tide of will.
"Lyseria," he said, voice smooth as black glass. "You will enter the Abyssal Simulation Vault. Begin domain proto-manifestation. Ten cycles, no extensions. Command your realm—or it will consume you."
Lyseria bowed her head. "It shall be done, Father."
"Kaelreth. Saryne. You will report to the Crimson Vanguard. No guards. No aides. Field campaign through the Flamegate—three-day trial. Return forged, or do not return."
Both twins bowed in unison. "We understand."
"Malrik," the Emperor continued. "Begin preparation for the Dream Crossing. Once your training is complete, you will enter the Abyssal Mirror—alone. No tether. No rescue. You must emerge stronger… or vanish."
Malrik's voice was calm. "It will be done."
"Ashteron," the Emperor said at last, turning toward him. "You are Tier Two now. You will receive your resonant weapon. Zareth will escort you to Kaerzul in the Forge. Return in seven days. After that, begin internal mastery under Lady Selenthis. Shape the power within—or be broken by it."
Ash bowed. "Yes, Father."
"Elaenora," Vael continued, eyes on his first wife. "Grant Lyseria full access to the Domain Constructs. She is not merely to manifest. She is to stabilize."
Elaenora inclined her head. "She will be prepared."
"Valessara," he said next. "Coordinate the Flamegate dispatch. Ensure the twins' trial reflects real warfare. No interference. Let the world burn against them."
Valessara nodded. "It will be done."
"Nyrelle," he finished, "initiate the Mirror Seals. The echo must be untamed when Malrik enters. Do not protect him."
Nyrelle bowed, her voice like mist. "Understood."
There was a long pause.
Then Emperor Vael gave a single nod.
"This audience is closed. Carry your orders as blood, not burden. Leave."
One by one, they bowed and dispersed into the dark marble halls of the palace.
Zareth approached Ash without delay.
"This way, young master."
They walked through cold stone corridors, echoes trailing behind them.
"The forge is maintained by Master Kaerzul—smith of the Abyss. He has shaped the arms of emperors and the fangs of conquest for over three centuries. A resonant weapon is not mere metal. It is the echo of your essence, hammered into form."
The corridor opened into the Forge Wing. The scent of molten ore and ash greeted them.
The forge burned with controlled abyssal flame. Blacksmiths moved like shadows—silent, focused. Blades, armor, weapons—all carried abyssal sigils pulsing with resonance.
Zareth approached a towering figure with burn-scarred arms and molten eyes.
"The Emperor has sent his son for his first forging."
Kaerzul looked Ash over.
"So this is the flame the Emperor casts into the future," he said, voice deep as stone.
He circled Ash slowly.
"You carry sleeping power—and hunger beneath it. Good. A weak will shatters steel. Tempered spirit makes it sing."
He leaned in close.
"I will forge a weapon that answers your blood. One that remembers you when it strikes."
He stepped back.
"Return in seven days. What I give you will not break—and it will not forgive."
Ash bowed.
As they left, Zareth's voice resumed.
"Now, your instructor awaits."
They crossed into a quiet wing of the palace.
"Her name is Lady Selenthis. Once of the Sixth Legion. Now she commands discipline—not on the field, but in the body."
They reached a tall black door inscribed with a faintly glowing arcane seal. Zareth opened it.
A tall woman stood inside. Silver hair. Dark robes. Eyes like frost.
"Ashteron," she said. "I am Selenthis. Today, we begin training."
She pointed to a glowing circle drawn on the floor.
"Your energy is raw, unshaped. We begin with containment. Then, discipline. Strength is not power—it is how you wield it."
Ash stepped forward.
And the lesson began.