Aurelius Von Carstein.

The Calm.

The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the school’s rooftop. Aurelius stood at the edge, staring out at the horizon, his hands resting on the cold metal railing. The breeze tousled his dark hair, and the world seemed distant, like a soft hum at the back of his mind.

He couldn’t remember the last time he felt *normal*—or if he ever truly had been. The life he now led, the easy smiles, the jokes, the innocent grins—had it always been this way? Had he always known how to wear this mask?

Aurelius glanced down at his hands, the same hands that had once been soaked in blood, the same hands that had ended the lives of everyone he had known. He could still remember the taste of that blood on his tongue—the blood that had run thick in his veins, ancient and powerful.

But that life was *gone*. Wasn't it?

A laugh, light and carefree, echoed in his memory. Was that him? A memory of a child, of someone who had once smiled without thinking, without any weight in his chest. It felt so far away now, as though it belonged to someone else.

He exhaled slowly, pushing the thoughts away, as if they were nothing more than passing clouds.

The mask he wore had become second nature. The carefree persona, the teasing charm—it was all a game. It was easier this way. If he let it slip, even for a second, what would be left of him? The boy who had watched his family burn? The boy whose name had been buried in ash?

He let out a short, quiet laugh. *Aurelius von Carstein*—it was a name that had become a hollow echo, a fading legacy that held no meaning to anyone now. And yet, it still haunted him.

He ran a hand through his hair, his fingertips brushing against his forehead. It wasn’t the first time he’d felt the weight of the past pressing down on him. It had always been there, lurking beneath the surface. The blood of his lineage—the power that flowed through his veins. It called to him, a constant reminder of what he was. But even that felt like it was slipping away, fading into the fog.

The school below bustled with the noise of students heading to their next classes. To them, he was just another teenager—one of the many faces in the crowd. But Aurelius knew better.

*How long can I keep this up?*

His thoughts turned inward again, swirling with uncertainty. He had learned to play the part—to be the charming, easy-going guy everyone loved. But at times, when he was alone, when the world went quiet, the mask seemed almost too heavy. The silence always brought back those brief flashes—visions of something long gone. His family. His home. The fire.

The flames had taken everything from him, and yet... nothing had been left behind.

Aurelius’ gaze hardened, and he clutched the railing with both hands. He could still feel the rush of power in his chest, the blood—the *ancient blood*—coursing through him. He was alive, stronger than ever. And no matter how much he masked it, how much he buried it, the power was still there. The hunger.

He could hear it, that faint whisper, calling to him. *Aurelius...*

But he couldn’t let it consume him. Not now.

With a slow breath, he pushed the door open and stepped back toward the school building. The mask would go back on, as it always did. He would slip back into his role, the one everyone expected.

*No one needs to know.*

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**End of Chapter 10.**

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