Returning to Kars

After ending their embrace, Kilian pulled Eleonora toward Nargoz’s Chamber of Relics where the Tear of Kalarac awaited. Only the blood of Nargoz’s royals could open the gate, so Kilian kept a cup full of Oliver’s blood and poured it on the handle.

In loud, grating sounds, the door opened wide and the two dove in. Ancient swords, dusty grimoires and blood-red armors with werebat-shaped helmets stood strapped against stone poles, or floating above pedestals. Kilian ignored them all to locate the only thing worth his greed: a sanguine stone shaped like a ruby teardrop that despite the room’s darkness, shone like a blazing sun: the Tear of Kalarac.

Like a Philosopher’s Stone, the Tear granted its owner outstanding Transmutation abilities, as well as mysterious, eldritch powers able to leave Archons and Exarchs witless. But beyond that, it enabled the owner to create a flawless, upgradable version of their bodies and store it in the tear’s internal world.

There was only one problem. The Tear devoured more lifeforce than non-Chiropterans possessed. This wasn’t a magic-level, but a species issue. Chiropterans were immortal and possessed endless lifeforce. And as using the Tear of Kalarac required 700 years of lifespan, even at the Exarch-level, humans could only live for 500 years. Naturally, they dared not touch it.

But while Kilian was no immortal, Klaus’ experiments showed that even without magic, he could live for over 1,000 years. Striding toward the Tear, Kilian clenched his hand around it and yanked it off the pedestal.

The surrounding scenery changed, and he landed in an unfamiliar world where an endless blood sea covered the sky and earth. Closing his eyes, Kilian stretched his senses throughout the blood world, and as his mind spread to fill the realm, Kilian felt as if in this place, he possessed omnipresence.

The rush didn’t last over three seconds, and regaining his senses, Kilian integrated his soul with the Tear, channeling the seemingly endless power that briefly gave him the misconception that he’d achieved godhood. In the meantime, the Tear devoured the 700 years of lifespan Kilian owed it—sealing their unwritten covenant.

Using his mind as a quill, Kilian waved blood mist to condense an inert shape that looked 100% like his. Sanguine flames embroiled the construct, making it solidify and grow from a cloudy figure to an entity of flesh and blood. Exiting the Tear’s world, Kilian turned toward Eleonora, unaware that if anything went wrong, she stood ready to pull him out.

“Look,” He said, and switching her attention back to the Tear, Eleonora was mildly disturbed by the appearance of a mini Kilian corpse in the jewel. Her eyebrows creased, and she spun to face him.

“Why are you doing this? Your body is exceptional and far from its true limits. The second body is useless unless you reached your limits or fear an impending death…” Eleonora’s eyebrows arched up, and her voice trailed off.

“Exceptional? How do you know? Did you taste it in my sleep?” Kilian jested, making Eleonora’s eyes narrow at him.

“I’m confused. Tasted what?”

“Oh my god you’re so innocent. I almost feel bad for you having to marry me,” Kilian said and cleared his throat.

“More seriously, I do fear an impending death. In fact, so long as I remain in Klaus’ grasp, I feel like I can die at any moment. It’s just a matter of time,” he pursued, making Eleonora realize that the situation between Kars’ duke and junior duke was nowhere near as peaceful as most imagined.

“Why don’t you stay with me?” She asked, but Kilian immediately shook his head.

“With the Tear, I can shroud Nargoz from the empire, but I cannot escape Klaus’ palm—yet. He rigged my body so that he can teleport me back to his side whenever he pleases. In fact, he probably knew that I’d claim the Tear. Perhaps it even delights him.

Be that as it may, it is not the time. I will leave Nargoz in three days. I don’t know when I will return. Months, years? I can’t say for sure. But when I do, I will teach you the tango and rob your innocence.” As Eleonora pondered what “tango” was, Kilian aimed his right hand at her, unleashing waves of scarlet fog that flooded her body, and left a star-shaped mark on her chest.

“Should the Arcadian Empire attempt another assault, use the Tear to shroud and seal Nargoz. I’m also giving you a license to use it to strengthen my second body and build me an invincible regiment. Should I perish, and for one reason or another not rematerialize here, as long as the mark stands you will know that I am fine. In due time, I will return,” Kilian said. But little did he know that very soon, his casually spoken words would become a reality.

Across the following three days, Kilian only did one thing: learn more about Eleonora. From how Oliver murdered her mother out of fear that she might plot to make her queen, to how she suffered her Fehl Mutation and became the monster girl she now was. Her plans, her hopes, her aspirations, she told him everything. But the longer they spoke, the more Kilian realized that Eleonora wasn’t talking about the princess of Nargoz. Between the lines, she painted the stark picture of a lofty, lonely entity trapped in the chains of her duties.

At the end of the third day, the royal palace hosted a small wedding between the Junior Duke of Kars and the Grand Princess of Nargoz, after which Eleonora received her crown and Kilian returned to Kars.

The news that Kars’ Junior Duke broke his betrothal to Rulweil and married the new Queen of Nargoz spread like wildfire. But while many high nobility scions wished to use the opportunity to console Anke, she was nowhere to be seen. The Grand Duke of Rulweil also made no comments.

…

After his aircraft landed in Kars, Kilian headed straight toward Klaus’ study where, as usual, the duke awaited.

“I heard you had a great deal of fun,” Klaus said as soon as Kilian passed the door.

“I even got a wife,” Kilian replied and bowed like a vassal to his liege.

“I asked you to get me trade deals and an alliance. You changed the monarch. Well, I’d say you’ve learned all I had to teach you on secular matters. Tomorrow morning, we will handle your Dra Root Ceremony and start your Arcane training.” Klaus said and returned his attention to the book on his table. Although most aristocrats only read spell tomes or grimoires, Klaus was one of the few that still enjoyed a good fiction book.

“I always wanted to ask. Why did you kill the 8,000 northern tribesmen? I know that you wanted to seize absolute judiciary power in Orloth without civil war, but with your skills, you could have found another way. Why that one?” Kilian finally released the voice caterwauling in the back of his mind.

“Because of you. I had to kill Viktor, Alina and all members of your tribe to make sure that you’d live in agony, and hate me more than you loathed destiny or your own powerlessness. Since that tribe was already doomed to slaughter, I reckoned that just cleaning the surroundings and using the massacre to spread terror throughout Orloth, was the most pertinent choice,” Klaus replied without taking his eyes off his book page.

“I see,” Kilian said, spun and left. But though his face showed no change, the hatred locked inside him never burned brighter. Rage seethed in his heart, pounding like a battering ram against his chest. And perhaps it was in that instant that his fate was sealed.