Part 4 — The New Blood Ascendant
The enormous doors of the Council Chamber opened once more.
Two Fallen guards stepped aside as a tall figure entered the throne room, his polished black boots moving steadily across the crimson carpet.
Azrion Kael'tharyn.
The eldest son of Vireth Kael'tharyn.
And until recently, the second-in-command of his father's military forces.
Azrion stood slightly over six feet tall, his athletic frame concealed beneath a magnificent suit of black armor. Intricate silver patterns decorated the breastplate and pauldrons, while dark crimson markings followed the edges of the metal.
A long black cloak hung from his shoulders, its interior lined with deep red fabric that moved gently behind him as he walked.
His pale features were sharp and remarkably composed. Long black hair fell neatly past his shoulders, framing a face that carried an unmistakable resemblance to his father.
But where Vireth had often displayed his arrogance openly, Azrion revealed very little.
His crimson eyes remained fixed upon the seven elevated thrones.
A sheathed longsword rested against his left hip, its black hilt decorated with silver engravings.
He crossed the enormous chamber without hesitation, passing beneath the towering gothic arches and the watchful gazes of the armed guards stationed along the walls.
At the foot of the broad staircase, Azrion stopped.
He lowered himself onto one knee and bowed his head.
"High Council. Azrion Kael'tharyn, reporting as summoned."
For several moments, the seven rulers regarded him in silence.
The older Council member spoke first.
"You have been informed of your father's death."
"Yes, Councilor."
"And of the loss of Kharos Vale?"
"I have received the preliminary reports."
The silver-haired female studied him from her throne.
"Your father was Level Forty-Five. He commanded considerable military strength and held one of the highest titles among our Lords."
Azrion remained kneeling.
"He did."
"Yet he died after consuming the blood of a Level Ten human cadet."
"That is what the reports indicate."
The scarred Council member leaned forward slightly.
"Do you question their accuracy?"
"No, Councilor. The recordings are sufficient."
"Then what is your assessment of his death?"
Azrion raised his gaze toward the seven thrones.
"My father believed the anomaly's blood would grant him greater strength. He obtained it and consumed it without first determining its properties."
He paused briefly.
"The decision cost him his life."
The older Council member watched him carefully.
"Do you consider his death a failure?"
"Yes."
"Explain."
"His objective was to secure the anomaly's blood for further examination. Instead, he consumed it himself. Whatever strength he expected to gain became irrelevant the moment he lost control of the outcome."
The chamber remained quiet.
Azrion continued.
"He possessed the authority to command an army and the strength to defeat most opponents he encountered. Neither prevented his death."
The scarred Council member rested one hand against his throne.
"And what lesson have you taken from this?"
"Power without judgment is insufficient."
The older Council member regarded him for another moment.
"Stand."
Azrion rose smoothly to his feet.
A holographic display appeared above the chamber floor, presenting his military record.
Name: Azrion Kael'tharyn.
Level: 35.
Rank: Second-in-Command.
His service history extended across numerous campaigns, including planetary occupations, military engagements, and operations conducted under his father's authority.
The silver-haired female examined the information.
"Your record demonstrates discipline. Your campaigns have achieved their objectives with acceptable losses, and your subordinates have maintained consistent performance."
"Thank you, Councilor."
"Your current level, however, is insufficient for the responsibilities we intend to assign."
"I understand."
The older Council member looked toward the others.
"Vireth's death has left his title, armies, and territories without their former commander. His successor must possess the strength to enforce our authority and the judgment to avoid repeating his mistakes."
The scarred male spoke.
"Azrion Kael'tharyn has demonstrated the latter. We will provide him with the former."
The remaining Council members gave their assent.
The older male turned toward Azrion.
"The Council has reached its decision. You will succeed your father as Blood Ascendant."
Azrion lowered his head.
"I accept the responsibility."
"Your appointment carries conditions," the silver-haired female continued. "You will assume command of the forces formerly assigned to Vireth, maintain the territories under his administration, and answer directly to this Council."
"I understand."
"Your father's strength proved insufficient," the older male said. "We will not appoint a successor who begins his command at an even greater disadvantage."
He raised one hand.
At the side of the throne room, a concealed doorway opened.
Two ceremonial attendants emerged, dressed in long black robes decorated with silver embroidery.
Between them, they carried a large rectangular tray fashioned from polished obsidian.
Resting upon it was an ornate chalice.
The vessel was black, its surface engraved with intricate crimson patterns. Silver ornamentation encircled its stem, while a series of small gemstones had been set around its rim.
Within the chalice rested a dark red liquid.
Human blood.
The attendants approached the staircase and stopped before Azrion.
One lowered the tray slightly, presenting the chalice.
The silver-haired Council member spoke.
"The blood contained within this vessel was taken from a Level Fifty human warrior."
Azrion examined the chalice.
The older male continued.
"It has been preserved for an appointment of considerable importance. Its potency has been verified, and its properties have been examined."
The scarred Council member regarded Azrion.
"Your father held the title of Blood Ascendant at Level Forty-Five."
His voice remained quiet.
"You will surpass him before leaving this chamber."
Azrion extended his hand and lifted the chalice from the tray.
The dark liquid moved gently within the vessel.
He examined it for a moment, then raised it toward the seven thrones.
"I accept the strength entrusted to me by the High Council. I will use it in service of Fallen civilization."
He brought the chalice to his lips.
And drank.
The blood passed down his throat.
For several seconds, Azrion remained perfectly still.
Then a faint crimson glow appeared beneath the exposed skin of his neck.
The light spread slowly, following the veins beneath his pale complexion before disappearing beneath the collar of his armor.
His fingers tightened around the chalice.
A sudden surge of energy moved through his body, powerful enough to make the dark fabric of his cloak shift against his shoulders.
Azrion drew a measured breath.
His muscles contracted as the energy spread through them, strengthening the flesh and bone beneath his armor.
The sensation intensified.
His crimson eyes brightened.
A thin aura of dark red energy gathered around his body, causing the air immediately surrounding him to ripple.
Yet Azrion did not cry out.
He remained standing before the seven thrones, his expression controlled despite the immense power coursing through him.
Above the chamber floor, the holographic display changed.
Level: 35.
The number flickered.
Level: 38.
Another surge passed through his body.
Level: 42.
Azrion lowered the empty chalice as the energy continued to gather around him.
Level: 46.
The polished floor beneath his boots vibrated faintly.
One of the attendants instinctively stepped backward, but the seven Council members remained motionless.
They watched the transformation with quiet attention.
Azrion's eyes narrowed as the final surge of energy passed through his body.
The crimson aura expanded briefly, then contracted sharply, disappearing beneath his skin.
The chamber fell still.
Above him, the holographic display settled upon its final reading.
Level: 50.
Azrion released a slow breath.
His posture remained unchanged, but the power within him was unmistakably different.
His senses had sharpened. He could distinguish the individual movements of the guards stationed along the chamber walls and hear the faint hum of the holographic equipment suspended overhead.
Even the weight of his armor felt diminished.
The attendants retrieved the empty chalice and withdrew.
The older Council member examined the final reading.
"Level Fifty."
The scarred male regarded Azrion.
"Five levels above your father."
Azrion lowered his head.
"The Council's investment will not be wasted."
The silver-haired female studied him for several moments.
"See that it is not."
The older Council member rose from his throne.
The other six followed, standing together upon the elevated platform.
Their black and crimson garments fell around them as they looked down upon the newly empowered commander.
"Azrion Kael'tharyn," the older male announced, his voice carrying throughout the chamber. "By the authority of the Seven-Member High Council, you are hereby appointed Blood Ascendant."
Azrion lowered himself onto one knee.
"You will command the armies and territories entrusted to your predecessor. You will uphold the authority of this Council, maintain the strength of Fallen civilization, and answer for the results of your command."
"I understand."
"Your father's title is now yours."
A brief silence followed.
Then the older Council member spoke once more.
"Rise, Blood Ascendant."
Azrion stood.
For the first time, he faced the seven thrones not as his father's second-in-command, but as the ruler who had inherited his position.
Level Fifty.
Stronger than Vireth Kael'tharyn had ever been.
And unlike his father, Azrion had no intention of allowing ambition to cloud his judgment.
The seven Council members returned to their seats.
The ceremony was complete.
But Azrion had not been summoned merely to receive a title.
The silver-haired female regarded him from her throne.
"Blood Ascendant, there is another matter requiring your attention."
Azrion inclined his head.
"I am listening, Councilor."
A holographic image appeared between them.
A young human cadet with blond hair and blue-gray eyes.
David Wyn.
The older Council member studied Azrion's expression.
"Your first assignment concerns the anomaly responsible for your father's death."