A QUEST OF DEATH : Dawning Darkness

01 | The Heir (edited)

In the opulent halls of the Crepusculem, a symphony of preparations unfolded. As dusk settled upon the grand estate, golden lanterns were lit, casting a warm and enchanting glow upon the scene. The air hummed with anticipation, vibrant with the whispers of eager guests and the rustling of silk.

The Main Gallery's sewing house-facing the moonlit lake that echoed with soft laughter-was alive with quiet artistry. Skilled maidens worked their magic on bolts of luxurious fabric, transforming them into breathtaking pieces of craftsmanship. Every stitch, every seam, was a testament to their mastery, their nimble fingers gliding across the delicate cloth like dancers moving through a perfectly choreographed routine.

From their hands, golden-threaded creatures emerged, symbolising the powerful realms they represented. Delicate blossoms followed, celebrating the season of livelihood. A vibrant symphony of colours-ranging from the regal crimson of imperial authority to the tranquil shades of moonlit gardens-wove an ethereal glow into the robe, turning it into something almost alive.

Under the moonlit sky, just outside the Mage's Quarters, a majestic portico began to take shape. Male servants, their muscles flexing with exertion, meticulously arranged pillars and draped exquisite silk fabrics. Their brows glistened with sweat, as they toiled to erect the structure.

The little ones of those who tended the sanctum, adorned in vibrant attire, flitted about like colourful butterflies, tiny hands adorned with delicate flower bouquets, busily arranging stunning floral displays around the Main Gallery.

The sweet fragrance of night-blooming flowers intertwined with the aroma of delicacies being prepared, wafted through the air, enticing the senses. It was just the night before the Ritual Ceremony, yet the atmosphere was as merry as the festival itself.

All the chambers in Sanctum buzzed with a harmonious blend of pleasant chatters and melodies, as musicians fine-tuned their instruments, lending honey-like pieces to the dark veil of approaching night.

Amidst the bustling activity, a young man with a discerning eye navigated the labyrinthine corridors, his presence gone quite unnoticed. He moved like a shadow, stealing glimpses into the unfolding tableau, keenly observing each detail. A quite grin danced upon his lips, hinting at a secret plan brewing beneath his dashing exterior. His long fingers fidgeted with a crumpled piece of paper that had mysteriously found its way into his possession.

In a lone corner of a corridor, a little away from the hustle and bustle of the night he found his target. It was one of the many maidens assigned to his chamber, his favourite among all. The Heir would notice her even from afar.

Immersed in her work, the young lass had no clue of her predator, busy arranging some essentials for the upcoming banquet. Her nimble hands moved with grace, and her eyes stayed focused.

With a playful glint in his eyes, the young Heir crouched behind a nearby pillar; the gigantic structure easily covered his slender frame. Rolling the paper he had been playing with he aimed at the oblivious maid before launching it towards her.

The alarming paper ball lightly brushed against the girl's shoulder before landing on the wooden floor behind her. Startled, she perked up, eyes wide, searching the surroundings. Finding no one, she crouched down to pick up the paper ball and uncrumpled it.

Seizing the moment, the young Heir approached her, crouching by her side and whispering in her ear. "You seem very busy today, aren't you?"

The maid almost lost her balance, taken aback by the ghostly whisper but the quick reflexes of her master saved her from an unceremonious landing on the floor. Just as their eyes met a smile blossomed on her face, recognizing her one true lover.

"You startled me, My Lord," she whined playfully pushing him away.

He chuckled, easily catching her fist in his palm. "Oh? Did I now?"

Rising to his feet, he helped her up. "I've been searching for you all day. Where have you been?"

"I've been occupied with the preparations, My Lord," she replied, her voice sweet like honey in his ears. "Tomorrow is the day My Lord bestows his charms upon us all. What good am I if I can't even do this much for you?"

The younger Heir's smile softened. "You're so good to me all the time, Sea."

He plucked a single blossom from a nearby vase and slipped it gently behind her left ear. His hand lingered against her cheek, warm against the cool night air. She looked up at him, eyes sparkling with amusement and something softer she tried to hide.

"What brings you here, my lord? Shouldn't you be preparing for tomorrow's ceremony? I heard those chants are long-and a nightmare to memorise."

"I'm not one for formalities, you know that," he sighed, his thumb absentmindedly caressing her rosy cheek, gaze fixed entirely on her. "Besides, I've gone through all three volumes of Noctilumina like... fifty times. I'm bored."

She leaned into his touch, placing her hand over the one cupping her cheek, pressing a small kiss to his palm. "They say you're a genius, and clearly they're not lying." Her eyes met his. "So-what's on your mind, my lord? The rehearsal won't begin for a couple of hours."

The mischievous glint returned to his eyes. He leaned in a little, voice low and playful. "Care to spend some time together?"

"Tonight?" she blinked, surprised. "It's the rehearsal night of your Ritual Ceremony. We shouldn't-"

"Shh." He pressed a finger gently to her lips. "It's still early evening, Sea. We've got plenty of time before rehearsal."

Her cheeks warmed under his gaze, the subtle blush only encouraged by the mischievous spark in his expression.

With a teasing smile, he stepped even closer.
"We'll be back before midnight."

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Hours later the younger Heir was back st venturing in the ceremony grounds.

He still had half an hour before the rehearsal. His loose shirt was rumpled in a way that made the reason obvious, and a faint blue mark peeked from beneath his collar. There was still a trace of her taste on his lips. He touched his mouth, a quiet, satisfied smile forming. He really did adore that girl.

Slowly, he ventured deeper into the heart of the preparations, guided by the soft moonlight spilling through arched windows, exploring hidden chambers and corridors pulsing with quiet life. His feet instinctively led him to the familiar terrace, tucked away and perched high above the shimmering world below. From there, a gentle descent brought him to his study-a sanctuary where solace awaited, a heaven where imagination thrived.

The scent of aged parchment mingled with the sharp tang of ink, filling the air with an intoxicating nostalgia. A lone candle drifted across the room, caught in the night breeze, flickering like the fragile hope that had kept the young Heir going.

Seated alone on the terrace, the moon cast a silvery glow across his chiseled features. The weight of his impending escape pressed upon him, a heavy burden tinged with both excitement and apprehension.

A familiar hiss echoed faintly within the recesses of his mind. And so came the impending sense that he was not alone in his space.

A/N: This story is being edited. If you read Luna Sanctum anywhere and then see Crepusculem instead just know it's the same place.