The epitome of success, Ambrosius Sidorov had it all.
Money, though didn't need it.
Power, though it bored him.
A lavish penthouse in downtown Chicago.
And the most powerful Throne.
That is, up until the fateful night when his siblings were murdered...
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'I saw him,' Ambrosius states absent-minded, shuffling in the chair uncomfortably, to no fault of said chair.'I saw the Summoner.'
It had come as a total surprise to him that his parents had not snapped at him. At least not yet. So long as they wouldn't, he would feel comfortable. Though comfort was a relative term.
'He was wearing that awful mask.' He pauses, his face stuck between astonishment and disgust. The reality of the situation barely making itself apparent. He really had seen him.
His sibling's murderer.
After all these years he had the audacity to show his face.
To come to the light. A light which he forsook the second he took the most valuable people from Ambrosius.
'What did you feel when you saw him?' Nikolai asks, in a calm manner, much to Ambrosius' surprise. He constructed his answer in silence before speaking, careful to use the right words.
'Rage,' he let out, 'pure, vile, uninhibited rage. But even more than that," he pauses contemplating his words one last time before allowing them to escape his mouth. He knew there would be no taking them back the second they were out.
'Absolute disgust. To think that he would dare defy me after all these years. Disgrace me with his presence.'
A dead silence was all that he got from his father. He turned around to face his indifferent face, nervously hoping he had not said something out of turn.
'Good.' Nikolai answered plainly, making his way to stand next to where his son was sitting. He let the silence hang ominously in the air and allowed a smirk carved itself on his face. He looked out the window into the midday sky, blue as ever. Timeless.
'Use your emotions Ambrosius. That anger coursing inside you. Use it to exact your revenge on your brother and sister. Only then will you gain the closure you seek.'
Ambrosius pondered long and hard on what he had just heard. Even though the words were hard to swallow, it was what he had expected from his father. If anything, Nikolai had also been hurt by the death of Damien and Valentina. More so than Anastasia since he was away on an expedition deep in the Gobi desert. Far removed from civilized society, and more importantly, his children.
'That's just it papa,' Ambrosius' Russian slipped into his perfect English, a sign of vulnerable emotion. One which he corrected swiftly. 'Revenge will never be enough for me. He has to pay with more than just his life. He has to suffer. He has to understand my pain. Our pain. The suffering we have gone through.'
