The wind never blew gently in Venom Vale.
Here, it always carried the scent of wet earth and something deeper than that—something unnamable but always making strangers who first set foot in this land instinctively clutch whatever was in their hands.
Nav had known that smell since before he could walk.
He stood on the balcony of the highest floor of Serpentis Palace, his hands resting casually on the black stone railing that was cracked in several places with age. His eyes—golden, sharp, with pupils a little too vertical for human—swept the landscape below him expressionlessly.
The dark forest that stretched to the horizon.
The silver river that cut through the valley like an old wound.
And in the distance, a thin mist that never truly cleared even in the middle of the day.
Venom Vale.
The most feared house in all of Aetheria.
"You've been standing there for two hours."
The voice came from the balcony door—laid back, slightly sleepy, like the voice of someone who had just woken up even though it was almost noon. Nav didn't turn around.
"Three hours," he corrected dryly.
Lazy footsteps followed, and a man about Nav's height with messy brown hair stood beside him. It was Soren Serpentis—his personal bodyguard, his childhood friend who had never really learned how to speak respectfully to anyone, including the First Young Master standing right next to him.
"Three hours," Soren repeated, leaning against the railing with his elbows. "What are you thinking about? Tomorrow's contract day, not the end of the world."
"For other people, both are the same."
Soren glanced at Nav briefly, then returned to his gaze with a yawn. "Are you talking about yourself or about the people who will witness your ritual?"
Nav didn't answer.
That was enough for Soren, who had known him for sixteen years.
Out there, beyond the borders of Venom Vale, guarded by more than just walls and guards, the world was preparing for Contract Week—the most anticipated annual celebration in all of Aetheria.
Every sixteen-year-old would undergo the ritual of contracting their first monster. The monster they obtained would determine everything—their strength, their life path, even their clan's standing in the eyes of the world.
All of Aetheria believed that a person's soul was reflected in the monster that chose them.
Nav stared at the horizon and wondered what his soul would reflect tomorrow.
Whatever it was, he thought coldly, the world wouldn't be ready to see it.
"There's news from the outside," Soren said suddenly, his tone slightly changed—still casual, but with a layer of seriousness beneath that only Nav could detect. "Vessa sent a report this morning. Clan Aurveil sent observers to our borders. Clan Dracen too. And several smaller clans not even worth mentioning."
"They came to watch and make sure."
"Make sure of what?"
Soren shrugged. "That Clan Serpentis' First Young Master doesn't get a contract monster too dangerous for them, I suppose."
Nav finally glanced to the side—a brief eye movement, but enough to let Soren know he was being watched intently.
"And if the opposite happens?"
Soren stared back with an unreadable expression. Then slowly, the corners of his lips lifted. "Then it'll be a very interesting day."
Nav returned his gaze to the front.
In the distance, the mists of Venom Vale moved slowly like a living, breathing creature. Nav watched them unblinkingly, something in the corner of his consciousness lingering for the past few days—a vague sensation he couldn't quite define. Like something was waiting for him. Not patiently, but with absolute certainty that the encounter was certain to happen.
Like a predator knowing its prey would inevitably come to a trap.
Or, Nav corrected himself, like something far older than any predator choosing who was worthy to meet it.
"Nav."
The voice was different this time. Deeper. Heavier. A voice that instinctively made the entire room—even an open space like this balcony—feel smaller than it should.
Nav and Soren both turned.
Corvus Serpentis stood at the balcony door in his black robes that hadn't changed color since Nav was a child. Tall, upright, with the same sharp lines as Nav's but laced with age and something heavier than mere strength—authority. Not an authority that needed to be declared. An authority that was simply present whenever Corvus entered a room.
His dark gold eyes—older than Nav's, deeper, like a bottomless pool—stared at Nav for a moment before turning to Soren.
Soren immediately straightened. Pure reflex.
"Leave us."
There was no word of please.
Soren gave a small nod and retreated into the palace without a word, the balcony door closing behind him with a soft click.
Corvus stood beside Nav now, staring in the same direction—at the vast expanse of Venom Vale stretching out below them. Neither spoke for nearly a full minute. To anyone else, this silence would have felt oppressive. But to Nav, this was his father's way of communicating—a silence filled with meaning.
"Tomorrow," Corvus said finally, "the whole world will be watching."
"Let them."
"Don't you feel the need to get ready?"
Nav stared at his father for a moment. "I've been ready for three hours."
Corvus didn't smile. He never smiled. But there was something in the corner of his eye that moved—almost imperceptibly, but Nav knew how to read it.
Good.
"Whatever comes tomorrow," Corvus said quietly, "remember that you stand here for more than just your own sake."
Nav looked back at the horizon.
"I know," he replied. "Clan Serpentis."
"Yes."
Silence returned. The wind of Venom Vale carried the scent of wet earth and something unnamed. Father and son stood side by side, two pairs of golden eyes staring out at the most feared region of Aetheria.
Nav felt that sensation again—something waiting, something great. Something that had existed long before he was born, and would remain long after everything had changed.