After finishing the last of the thousand draws, Vladislav and Mary descended the slope together, their steps light but steady as the hill gave way to the familiar path that led to the family mansion. The air was cooler now, touched by the faint whispers of the evening breeze, and above them the skies had already darkened into a velvet canopy. Stars were only just beginning to pierce through the blanket of night. It was, by all accounts, the perfect hour for dinner.
The mansion's windows glowed warmly in the distance, and Vladislav felt the comfort of home drawing him forward.
He went to wash up first, dusting off the residue of the day's work, and as he was returning from his room, he caught sight of a familiar figure walking alone down the corridor. It was Athelstan—broad-shouldered, walking leisurely, his posture relaxed yet solitary.
Vladislav smirked. A mischievous thought sparked in his mind, and he slipped into the shadows.
For the past two weeks, Lady Umbra had been training him in the art of silence: how to erase one's presence and vanish into darkness as though one were nothing more than a shade. The lessons were brutal at first, but they paid off. His stealth had sharpened like a blade honed to perfection. He could walk without stirring a sound, breathe without drawing suspicion, move with the weightless patience of a hunter.
Now, seeing his chance, he thought gleefully: Hehe, this is going to be very funny.
Carefully, he advanced. The long hall stretched quietly around them, lit only by dim chandeliers that threw pale circles onto the floor. Athelstan walked unaware, never once glancing behind him, his footsteps steady.
Vladislav crept closer and closer still, until he was but a breath away. His grin widened. Suddenly, he lunged, grabbing Athelstan's shoulders and shouting:
"BOO!"
The effect was immediate. Athelstan jolted violently and let out a scream so shrill it echoed down the corridor. The sound wasn't human — it was closer to a pig squealing at slaughter.
"Ahhhh! Flash bang!" Athelstan howled, his voice cracking.
Vladislav doubled over with laughter, barely able to breathe. But before he could even finish mocking, he froze.
"Flash wha—"
He didn't have the chance to finish the sentence. Athelstan whipped his hand around, palm glowing. A blinding flash of light burst forth, flooding the entire hall in searing brilliance.
"Ughhh, my eyes, you bastard!" Vladislav shouted, clutching his face as pain stabbed through his vision.
The flash sputtered and faded. Athelstan, panting, pressed a hand against his chest.
"Fuck, you almost gave me a heart attack, big bro!"
"And you almost turned me blind!" Vladislav countered, still blinking furiously, though a laugh escaped him as he remembered the high-pitched squeal Athelstan had just produced.
Athelstan frowned, his lips twitching. "You deserved it. And why the hell are you laughing?"
"Pfft—didn't you hear yourself just now? You shrieked like a pig! Hahahaha!" Vladislav held his stomach, staggering from the laughter. "And your face—oh gods, your face looked like you'd just seen a real ghost!"
Athelstan clicked his tongue and crossed his arms, glaring. Yet despite himself, a faint smile tugged at his lips.
"…I will miss this," he muttered under his breath.
"What was that?" Vladislav asked, still chuckling.
"Nothing. Let's just go eat dinner."
Athelstan draped an arm around Vladislav's shoulders, and Vladislav mirrored the gesture. The two brothers walked side by side, laughter still bubbling between them, until they entered the dining room.
*******
The entire family was already gathered. The long dining table glittered with silverware, platters of steaming food spread across its length.
"We're eating beef tonight? Let's gooo!" Athelstan's eyes sparkled like a child's, and an actual line of drool slipped from the corner of his mouth as he stared at the roast laid before them.
Their mother giggled at the sight. Vladislav, meanwhile, could only sympathise as his own stomach rumbled. Can't blame him. The food looks delicious.
Athelstan wasted no time. He dug in as though he hadn't eaten in weeks.
"Chill," Asa teased, her voice lilting with amusement. "The food won't run away."
The remark drew laughter from everyone at the table.
Athelstan only glanced at her, cheeks stuffed full. "Wut can I duoh, the fud's just that gud!"
Vladislav shook his head, smiling, and smacked his brother lightly on the back of the head. "Don't talk with your mouth full. You'll choke to death before you enjoy your meal."
Athelstan glared, pointing his knife menacingly while chewing. "Duh ya wanna dye?"
Feigning fear, Vladislav raised both hands in surrender. "Forgive me, O Gluttonous King." He bowed dramatically, head almost touching the table.
Athelstan swallowed noisily. "Tsk. I'm not gluttonous! I just… appreciate food more than the rest of you."
"Yeah, sure. Whatever helps you sleep at night."
Asa giggled again, clearly entertained, while Jian decided to add fuel to the fire. "Careful, Athelstan. Keep this up and you'll get fat."
That made Vladislav grin. "Wait, can awakeners even get fat?"
"They can," Vladimir replied in his deep, steady voice. "It's rare. But if an awakener neglects training and keeps eating high-calorie food without control, they can gain weight like anyone else."
"I see."
Vladislav turned to his brother, who was already polishing off his second plate. "Hear that? You'll end up like a balloon if you keep this up. You won't even be able to swing a sword, ahahaha!"
"Oi!" Athelstan shouted, horrified by the thought. "I'm not going to get fat!"
But deep down, the mental image unsettled him.
Meanwhile, Geneviève clasped her hands together, her smile mischievous. "Hehe… just imagine my little At with chubby cheeks. So cute!"
"Why would that be cute?!" Athelstan groaned.
"You don't understand a mother's heart, son," Geneviève said dreamily. Mary immediately chimed in, voice rising in pitch. "Kyaa~! Imagine a grown Athelstan with baby cheeks again!"
"Not you too, Grandma!" Athelstan buried his face in his hands.
The table burst into laughter, Vladislav included, though he couldn't help but glance at his grandmother in astonishment. Dad had told me that she used to beat him and the uncles into discipline… and now she's giggling like a girl?
Across the table, Vladimir, Mikhail, and Jian exchanged glances, each thinking the same thing. I can't believe our mother, who used to be strict is acting like this.
Conversation shifted after the laughter faded. Jian raised his glass. "Also, congratulations on learning your first katana technique, and for blocking Grandma's attack."
"Thank you, Uncle," Vladislav said with a small bow.
"Damn," Mikhail added, shaking his head with a smile. "Didn't think you'd manage the katana. Most of us stick to swords, except me of course—I fight with gauntlets. But congrats, kid."
"You use gauntlets?" Vladislav asked, intrigued.
"Haha, yeah. Always loved fighting with my fists. Swords bored me, though I still learned them. If you ever want hand-to-hand training, come to me. Even a swordsman should know how to fight barehanded."
Vladislav nodded thoughtfully. He's right. What if I one day encounter a situation where i can't use my swords one day? I'll need my fists. Still… one step at a time.
Jian sipped his wine. "Your uncle here is strange. He was gifted with the sword, yet he abandoned it. Using fists was harder for him, since he had no talent for it. But he trained until he excelled. Remember this: discipline matters more than talent. Without discipline, talent means nothing."
"We understand, Uncle Jian," Vladislav and Athelstan said in unison.
Dinner passed with warmth, laughter, and more teasing, until one by one the family dispersed for bed.
Everyone retired, except Vladislav. His nightly training with Umbra still awaited.
The grounds outside were silent, cloaked in shadow. Vladislav moved like a phantom, feet gliding noiselessly over stone and grass. His training bore fruit; he was not an assassin by trade, but he understood the value of stealth. In battle, sometimes silence was the deadliest weapon.
Yet stealth was only a branch of his true power. His affinity was darker, subtler: manipulation. Words laced with intent, shadows that whispered into minds, illusions of fear and control. His affinity tied itself to mysteries he had yet to uncover.
He found Umbra in her usual place, perched with legs on the counter. She wore oversized pink pajamas, an odd sight for someone so enigmatic.
"Good evening, Lady Umbra," Vladislav greeted.
"Gooood evening, little At," she yawned. "Ready for another lesson?"
"Yes, ma'am."
Two weeks of training had refined his abilities. He could now summon crude creations — chains of shadow, walls of darkness. They drained him heavily, but the progress was undeniable. He could coat his body in shadow, erasing his presence for minutes at a time, or hide objects within a veil of black.
Tonight, as always, he repeated the drills. His darkness sense extended a little further now, covering two extra meters. He could extinguish candlelight within range with a wave of his hand, plunging rooms into instant blackness.
The hours bled away in focused silence.
At last, he returned to his room, sinking cross-legged into meditation. His mana core pulsed within, lively but unripe, showing no signs of breakthrough.
"It seems I won't reach Adept rank yet," he murmured. "Uncle was right—it takes time."
He stood, yawning. "Well, I'll just keep training until my core saturates."
The clock struck midnight. With a sigh, he collapsed onto his bed, exhaustion swallowing him whole.
Sleep claimed him instantly.
Unseen in the dark, a pair of blue eyes lingered, watching him.