Something Familiar

Part I: Hunson - The Talk

A knock on the door and whispers in the hall produce a low growl from under the coarse blankets within the large and dimly lit room. Silence. Another, slightly more urgent knock followed by the sound of a man clearing his throat and speaking closely to the door.

"Excuse me young prince, your father requests an audience with you in his study at once." A raspy voice that seemed to sliver through the crack in the door and fill the room croaked. The prince shivered. The voice spoke once more, "By the state of the king's demeanor, a wise man would quicken his pace." A threat leered in the air as another moment of silence passed before the heavy footsteps moved away from the door and somewhere down the dark halls.

The figure hiding under the blanket risks punishment by remaining still for a few more seconds before he groans and throws the blankets from his body and jumps out of bed in a burst of movement. He glances in the mirror absentmindedly to pin his shoulder length dark hair up into a ponytail in hopes that he can avoid another lecture from the king on the importance of "presenting oneself with a respectable appearance". He rolls his sharp red irises as he leaves his room and walks down the hall, carefully measuring his steps and resisting the urge to quicken his pace. When he arrives at the towering solid onyx doors, he straightens the collar of the shirt he didn't bother changing out of from the day before while sliding a tongue over his glimmering fangs. Breathe in, breath out. He raises a hand to the heavy blood red knockers before the doors lurch open silently and a deep rumbling voice echoes out and down the hall where the young prince wished he could return.

"Show yourself, young Abadeer."

Straightening his posture and trying his best to walk with expressionless purpose, the prince keeps his eyes to the ground and continues to count his steps until he has reached the number that has by now been ingrained into his memory which would position him precisely in front of the desk of the king. 

He bows deeply with one hand behind his back, "You called, my king?"

"Meet my eyes, Hunson." The king spoke with a strength that inspired loyalty in his people, and a complicated mix of reluctant adoration and fear from his only son.

Hunson straightened and raised his eyes to meet his father's intense stare. The king was not a large man, in fact he appeared to be quite normal if one wasn't familiar with the traits of the demonic royal bloodline. His short cropped hair was combed and gelled down carefully and his well tailored black suit was neat as usual, his crimson tie lay flat against his stiff white shirt. He cleared his throat as he straightened the cuffs of his jacket. "Do you know why I've called you here?" His voice was filled with power which moved like thick lava, flowing through the room and filling Hunson's lungs until his cheeks burned. 

The young man, suddenly feeling like a child in the presence of his authoritarian father, resists the urge to break eye contact. "No sir." 

"You are nearly ten centuries old, almost fully grown as far as the royal bloodline is concerned. It is time for you to show the people that you are to be a powerful and chaotic ruler, just as our forefathers. With rumors of a new vampire kingdom emerging among the human world it is important to show our demonic residents that life in the Nightosphere shall remain as it always has over these last trillion years. In an effort to create an alliance with these new and seemingly powerful beings, I have arranged for you to marry the vampire princess, Valdis Wolfram. " The king stands and reaches under his shirt collar to pull out a glowing purple amulet attached to a twinkling gold chain that hung around his neck. "Being powerful does not come without its price. We Abadeer can only produce one child every generation as payment for remaining on the throne. Our family has always ruled the chaos of this realm and I shall not stand for your childish ways risking the end of our bloodline. Your outburst last night was unacceptable and such emotional spectacles are in no way befitting of a future king." The king let the amulet rest familiarly against his chest, "This amulet is the weight one must bear as an Abadeer. You will have to learn to carry it in addition to what you are already expected to handle. And though I have given you countless opportunities over these thousands of years, you have yet to convince me that you are in any way prepared to carry the name of this family."