The holographic screen shut down and disappeared, leaving behind an awkward silence.
Lyra continued running her fingers through Kallen's hair, though by now, she had long finished washing it. She wasn't tending to it anymore—she was simply caressing it, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands as if trying to hold onto something fleeting.
Her expression was uneasy. She wasn't even trying to hide it. Or maybe she was, but poorly.
"What's wrong, Mom?"
Lyra hesitated. The answer sat on the edge of her lips, yet she struggled to let it out. Finally, she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry."
Kallen opened his eyes, frowning. "Hmmm? What for?"
"I..." She started, but the words never came. Instead, she shook her head. "Don't worry about it."
Her fingers resumed their soft movements, gliding through his hair in a comforting rhythm.
Kallen studied her for a long moment before closing his eyes again. Whatever she was hiding, she wasn't ready to say it. And right now, the sensation of her hands working through his hair was too pleasant to disturb—like being wrapped in soft clouds.
Eventually, she rinsed his hair and let him go.
"What are you up to now?" she asked.
"Not much. Train, perhaps—" He paused mid-sentence, caught himself, then coughed playfully. "I mean... I'll go have a good rest."
Lyra gave him a sharp look. "Good! I thought for a second I heard you say training after all this beautiful work I did on your hair. You want to mess it up with sweating? Somebody's asking to be hung by his ears on the line."
Kallen gulped dramatically. "I'd go rest! Who mentioned training? Must be a lunatic… Yes, only a lunatic would say that." He nodded wisely, stroking his chin like an old sage.
Lyra chuckled. "Good. Alright, go off. I need to rest too. I'll see you tomorrow, baby."
Kallen's face crumpled at the word baby, his expression filled with exaggerated injustice. But he said nothing and turned to leave.
"Make sure you take a bath!" she yelled after him.
"What?!" He almost tripped on his own feet. Turning back, he shouted, "I always take a bath!"
But Lyra was already running off like a little girl, giggling as she disappeared into her small cottage.
Kallen shook his head in exasperation. As he reached the rock exit behind the waterfall of the sacred grove, he paused and looked back. His lips curled into a bright, genuine smile—one that lingered for just a second before he turned and left.
---
A few moments later, Lyra stepped out of the cottage again, staring up at the vast sky.
The playfulness from earlier was gone. In its place was a look of helplessness, sadness, and uncertainty.
"I hope you know what you're doing, Luiz. I really hope you're doing the right thing." She exhaled, long and heavy.
Then, in a quiet murmur, she added, "If fate plays any games… if it twists things in a way that puts you both on opposite sides… Kallen…"
She swallowed hard, her voice barely audible.
"Kallen would kill you."
Her hands clenched at her sides.
"I wish you could know how much I fear that."
A lone tear traced a path down her cheek.
With that, she turned and walked back inside.
----
Under a breathtaking dusk sky, the twin moons of Ares cast their overlapping shadows across the land, painting the world in a graceful, otherworldly wonder. Their soft glow bathed the Crimson Manor in a serene luminescence, accentuating its grandeur against the night.
Light footsteps echoed softly through the vast hallways; graceful, deliberate, yet utterly weightless.
Kallen moved through the corridors at a leisurely pace, absorbing the beauty of the night. The crisp scent of the evening air lingered faintly, carrying the essence of distant blooms. Moonlight filtered through the grand windows, casting shifting patterns along the polished floors. And yet, for all its beauty, his mind was surprisingly empty, weightless, just like his steps.
Before long, he arrived before a massive double door. Without hesitation, without so much as a knock, he pushed it open.
The chamber inside was dimly lit, its silence profound.
And then two piercing eyes met his. One a deep, commanding purple. The other a smoldering crimson.
Like torches in the dark, Luiz's gaze burned through the shadowed space, unblinking and unreadable.
Seated upon an elevated throne-like chair, his posture was almost lazy, yet his presence was anything but. In his hands, a set of documents rested; papers he had likely been reviewing before Kallen's arrival.
Unmoved, Kallen stepped inside, meeting his father's gaze head-on.
Luiz didn't immediately acknowledge Kallen's presence. Instead, he continued scanning the documents in his hands, his fingers flipping through the pages with practiced ease. The silence stretched between them, heavy and unbroken, save for the faint rustling of paper.
Kallen, for his part, wasn't in a hurry either. He simply stood there, his posture relaxed yet sharp, his eyes calm yet observant.
The dim glow of the chamber cast shadows that danced across the floor, accentuating the contrast between the father and son... the Patriarch and his heir.
Finally, Luiz closed the file with an almost deliberate slowness and set it aside. He leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow on the armrest of his elevated seat, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the polished surface.
His dual-colored eyes bore into Kallen's, unreadable and piercing.
"You're late."
Kallen blinked once, then tilted his head slightly. "You never gave a specific time."
Luiz smirked faintly. "Fair enough."
He gestured toward a chair beside his. "Sit."
Kallen remained still for a second, then moved forward without a word. He lowered himself onto the chair, maintaining a composed demeanor.
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The silence wasn't uncomfortable, it was just… there, like an unspoken rule between them.
Finally, Luiz exhaled through his nose and leaned back.
"Tomorrow, your bloodline will be activated." His voice was measured, calm. "From that moment on, you won't just be my son. You'll be the young Patriarch in both title and authority."
Kallen listened, his expression unchanging.
"You already understand what that means, don't you?" Luiz asked.
"It means power." Kallen answered plainly.
Luiz chuckled, but there was no warmth in it. "It means responsibility, Kallen. It means your words will carry weight, and your actions will have consequences." His eyes sharpened. "It also means that from tomorrow onward, you will no longer be afforded the luxury of mistakes."
Kallen met his father's gaze evenly. "I've not made any. I don't plan on making any either"
Luiz smirked, his fingers ceasing their rhythmic tapping. "Confident, are we?"
Kallen shrugged.
Luiz studied him for a long moment before nodding. "Good."
There was a pause, then his voice took on a quieter, more pointed edge.
"Do you resent me, Kallen?"
Kallen didn't answer immediately. He could feel the weight of his father's gaze pressing on him, but he didn't flinch.
"Why ask a question when you already know the answer?"
Luiz's smirk deepened, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Because I want to hear you say it."
Kallen exhaled slowly, his fingers interlacing.
"Resentment is a waste of energy." He finally said. "And I don't waste energy."
Luiz let out a quiet chuckle. "You take after me more than you realize."
Silence settled between them once again, but this time, it was laced with something heavier. Something unspoken yet understood.
After a while, Luiz spoke again, his voice low but firm.
"Tomorrow marks the beginning of your real path, Kallen. Be ready."
Kallen's crimson eyes gleamed under the dim light.
"I always am." He stood up and began to leave.
As he reached the door and pulled it open...
"Don't disappoint me, Kallen." Luiz's voice drifted from behind, laced with both laziness and finality.
Kallen paused for a moment. Then, without a word, he stepped through and closed the door behind him.