Chapter 1 #2
I threw my head back and let out a maniacal laugh as the room crumbled around me.
The sound bounced off the splintering walls like thunder.
Mathias’ life work, his precious sanctuary of false peace, would soon be nothing but ash at my feet.
I was destroying his legacy—one demolished shelf, one broken relic at a time.
My chest tightened, not with grief, but with cold, calculating hatred.
I thought of my daughters—their sweet laughter, their warmth—and how their lives had been torn away. I thought of Zara, her final scream still echoing in the chambers of my mind.
For that, Mathias would pay.
Tears streaked down my face, hot and blinding, as I stood amid the ruin. But I knew the truth—no destruction, fire, or war hammer could bring back what was taken from me.
Still, I would raze it all.
Then, a hand touched my shoulder.
I turned, ready to strike—but stopped.
It was Amir.
His face was grim, but in his eyes, I saw understanding, brotherhood, and his own rage. We had met when I arrived in London, and in the years since, we had become something closer than blood. We were born of darkness, bent beneath secrets too terrible to speak aloud.
Without him, I might’ve drowned in it.
I could’ve sworn a smile crossed his lips.
“What are you doing?” he asked calmly.
I gripped the war hammer tighter, my gaze sweeping the shattered remains of the office.
“Remodeling,” I said. “I hate this room.”
His eyebrow lifted, but he said nothing as I continued.
“Mathias is gone. Nowhere to be found. So, I’m taking over the school. I’ll destroy every trace of him, starting here. And when I teach, it won’t be about denying darkness—it’ll be about unleashing it.”
My eyes flicked to the cluttered shelves that still stood, sagging under the weight of Mathias’ beloved books. The paintings on the floor—vivid, colorful depictions of students frozen in moments of false enlightenment—sickened me. Proud poses, warrior stances, eyes full of hope.
When I trained students, there would be no paintings. No light. Only power. Only truth.
“No artist would dare to capture what we’ll become,” I said coldly.
“There will be time enough,” Amir replied, his voice low, steady, unshaken. “But first—we talk.”
He turned and led me down the stairs, the war hammer in my hands.
We descended into the formal sitting room, which once served tea, wine, and all the genteel trappings of diplomacy to visiting dignitaries.
When I was master here, they could drink flaming blood for all I cared.
Amir sauntered to the sideboard and returned with a silver flagon and two gold tumblers. Moonlight streamed through the stained-glass windows, casting fractured colors across the stone floor and splashing across our skin like war paint.
The oak table between us gleamed with a polished sheen, its surface etched with emblems of valor—swords, shields, and a delicately carved kite shield at the center—all symbols of courage and generations of warriors who had once called this place home.
It reeked of righteousness.
Too noble. Too pure.
It didn’t belong in my world.
The chairs, however, were ancient and weathered, their cracked backs whispering of secrets and time. The arms were smooth from use, the wood pale and dry like desert bone. Those could stay.
But the table?
That would burn.
Amir poured the whiskey with a steady hand and passed me one of the tumblers.
We drank.
Then I spoke.
“I’m doing it,” I said. “I’m taking over the school.”
Amir’s eyes settled on mine, unreadable. “A bold plan, my friend. How can I help?”
I leaned forward, the fire in my chest barely restrained. “You’ll be my right hand. My second. You’ll shape the students. Mold them into masters of darkness. No more of this self-denial. No more shame. We build something real. Are you ready for that?”
His gaze narrowed slightly. “While it would be an honor to serve beside you, Balthazar…” He paused. Calculating. “I think your actions are reckless. Emotional. You’re charging ahead with a heart full of vengeance and a war hammer in your grip. Maybe it’s time to consider… alternatives.”
“Not a chance!” I growled, the words boiling out of me. “I’m going to take everything from him—his school, his legacy. I’ll take his child and kill it. Then, and only then, will he understand what it’s like to lose everything. Just like I did.”
Amir’s voice dropped, low and quiet—but edged like a blade. “You’ve been repeating the same thing for years now—how Mathias ruined your life, how he stole your children. And now you’re tearing his school apart, piece by piece, like a madman swinging in a thunderstorm.”
He leaned back in his chair, the whiskey untouched in his hand.
“Perhaps,” he said, “you’d do him more mercy by burning it to the ground.”
“I want this school,” I snapped. “I will take it. And I will be better than him. Stronger. I will make this place mine.”
Amir took a breath. “Think about it, friend. If we burned the school to the ground, everything Mathias built—all his philosophies, teachings, and legacy—would vanish in smoke. Reduced to nothing.”
“No,” I snarled, baring my teeth. “That’s far too simple. Far too merciful.”
I felt the wicked pull tighten in my gaze as I leaned forward.
“I want to corrupt his students—mind, soul, and purpose. I want to mold them into weapons of darkness, make them serve the very evil that Mathias sought to cleanse. Let them become the rot he tried to cut away. Let them carry it. Let him watch it grow.”
Amir shook his head. “You stubborn fool. Your mind’s made up, then.”
He took another long pull from his whiskey, watching me over the rim of the tumbler.
I mirrored him, letting the burn wash down my throat like fire licking the edges of purpose. I drummed my fingers against the arm of the chair—steady beats of resolution.
“First things first,” I said. “The plan begins with Cora’s elimination.”
Amir lifted an eyebrow. “Mathias’ wife?”
“She’ll try to stop me. Interfere. So, she must be removed.”
Amir’s lips curved into a smirk. “And how do you plan to do it? How might I... assist?”
I slashed my hand through the air, cutting the thought in two. The wind stirred unnaturally, swirling through the room like a phantom.
“Leave it to me,” I said, my lips curling into a dangerous grin. “You focus on your part. I’ll handle Cora. And the child.”
A faint gasp.
My body went still.
Then, hurried footsteps retreating down the corridor.
I rose from my chair in a flash. “Did you hear that?”
Amir didn’t move. He only sipped his whiskey, calm as ever. “Sounds like someone was listening.”
“Is Cora here?” I asked, scanning the doorway. “I thought she was out on errands.”
“She arrived not long ago,” Amir said, his voice even, his eyes gleaming with something unreadable. “You should strike now while you still have the advantage.”
Then, he dragged a single finger across the table’s surface, tracing a lazy, invisible line through the symbols of valor carved into the wood.
A secretive smile tugged at his lips.
I narrowed my eyes.
What was he planning?
Why was his smile so calm?
Why did it feel like I was no longer pulling the strings?
A piercing wail cut through my thoughts.
The rage drained from me instantly, replaced by a sharp, breathless urgency.
Cora had heard everything.
I flew up the stairs, driven by instinct, fury, and the hunt.
Cora.
She radiated innocence—too bright, too clean.
Her porcelain skin practically glowed in the moonlight.
Wild, wavy hair spilled down her back, framing a face untouched by cruelty.
But it was her eyes—those piercing, crystalline blue eyes—that struck the deepest. They weren’t just beautiful. They saw. They saw me.
And something inside me wanted to destroy that.
To obliterate it.
Her purity clung to the air like a curse—unnatural, maddening. I burned to ruin it, to defile every gentle thing she was and expose the darkness buried beneath her perfect facade. The hunger to do so pulsed through me, wild and feral, drowning every thread of reason.
I reached the top of the landing, my boots pounding against the floor as I stormed toward the sleeping room.
She stood at the center of it all, the child wailing as she gently placed it into a woven basket. And in Cora’s hand, the dagger.
The child’s dagger.
Its hilt was etched with scripture from the Old World—markings no one outside the ancient dark circles could decipher. I snarled as I saw her wrapping a ruby and moonstone necklace around the child’s neck.
Zara’s necklace.
That sacred, delicate piece—the last relic of my beloved—was never meant to be hers. And yet, gods help me, the baby looked angelic with it resting against her tiny collarbone.
Anger. Regret. Pain. It all surged through me at once.
I unleashed a primal roar, the sound rumbling through the room like thunder, laced with the full force of my darkness. It shook the very walls. I knew she felt it—Cora froze, her eyes widening, breath catching in her throat.
Then, like lightning, she moved.
With trembling hands, she slashed the infant’s palm. Blood welled up as she whispered the forbidden verse, her voice determined.
“No!” I bellowed, diving forward.
But it was too late.
A pulse of blinding white energy rippled outward. The baby vanished, the necklace gleaming one final time before the light swallowed her whole.
She was gone—ripped from my grasp, sent to another time, another place far beyond my reach. Her cries faded into the ether.
Rage consumed me.
I lunged at Cora, my hands closing around her throat. She beat at my chest, coughing, sobbing, gasping for air beneath my tightening grip.
“You can’t hurt her now,” she rasped through the agony. “She’s far away… safe from your vicious hands.”
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
“One day, Balthazar… someone will kill you. Light always finds a way to vanquish darkness.”
“That’s where you’re wrong,” I snarled. “I shall rule the world with darkness.”
I bore down on her slender neck. Bone cracked beneath my grip like splintering ice.
Cora’s eyes met mine one last time—pleading, filled with grief. Then she closed them, accepting her fate with haunting grace.
Snap.
Her body went limp.
Then—footsteps. Thunderous. Rushing.
“Cora!” Mathias’ voice roared through the hallway, echoing off the stone like a death knell.
I turned, spinning on my heel with a savage grin, bloodlust humming in my veins.
Mathias froze in the doorway, his eyes locking first on her crumpled body… then on my bloodstained hands.
“What have you done?” he breathed, horror turning quickly to rage. “Where’s my daughter?”
I tilted my head, lips curling into a sneer. “Why don’t you ask your wife?” I gestured casually toward Cora’s still form. “Oh… looks like it might be too late for that.”
Mathias bellowed and slammed his fist into my jaw with thunderous force. My body flew back, skidding across the floor.
By the time I hit the stone, he was already cradling her, rocking her gently like she might wake again.
“Oh, my Cora… my poor, sweet Cora,” he whispered, kissing her face, hands, and the fading heat of her skin.
Then he turned to me, grief curdling into fury, eyes ablaze. “All these years, I knew you would betray me. I gave you a second chance. And still, you’re nothing but a power-hungry, egocentric bastard. I swear, I will have my revenge.”
I sat up, wiping the blood from my mouth, and snarled with amused contempt.
“And what will you do? Try to stop me? Everything you built will burn. Your school. Your students. Your sanctimonious dream. I slaughtered your beloved—and I will find your daughter. And when I do, I’ll erase the last piece of your legacy. ”
Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the hallway behind him.
I looked past Mathias—beyond his dead wife—and saw flames.
Flaming timbers crashed across the floor, embers exploding like fireworks. The fire had spread faster than I anticipated.
Damn Amir. He set it ablaze.
Mathias crawled forward and grabbed at my ankles, desperation etched into his soot-smeared face. “Why?” he rasped. “Why are you so hell-bent on destroying me?”
I yanked my leg free and snarled, “Because you destroyed me. You sent the Timehunters. You murdered my children. You killed Zara. You preach goodness while hiding behind shadows—you’re the worst of us all.”
Mathias stared up at me, eyes wild. “I did not kill your children!” he shouted. “I never sent the Timehunters!”
The inferno surged through the hall with terrifying speed. Sparks rained down like molten tears. Thick smoke poured from the ceiling, wrapping around us in choking tendrils.
Everything was burning.
Everything was collapsing.
And in the flames, two monsters faced one another—one clinging to the ruins of love, the other feeding on the bones of vengeance.
“I’m going to make you suffer!” I roared, my voice thundering through the flames. “Watch your world burn to ash, swallowed by darkness and despair. I will become the master of this realm. I shall rule everything!”
The hallway around us was ablaze, fire devouring the walls with a hungry hiss. Flames licked at the doorframe, curling inward like the fingers of hell itself. Smoke billowed, thick and choking, a storm of fire and fury closing in.
Mathias coughed violently, still clutching at my boots. “Think again,” he growled, voice ragged with pain. He clawed at my legs, trying to pull himself upright. “We’ll see who finishes last.”
With a snarl, I kicked him hard in the chest. His hands fell away, and he crumpled.
I seized both of his legs and dragged him across the stone floor, his body scraping and thrashing behind me. He cursed, fought, pleaded—but I felt nothing.
Just the roar of fire.
Just the heat of righteous vengeance.
At the threshold, I paused—just long enough to look him in the eyes.
Then, I hurled him into the inferno with one final, monstrous heave.
His scream split the air.
Flames engulfed him—his clothes, his flesh, his face.
I watched, unblinking, until the screaming stopped.
And then, I smiled.
Satisfied, I let my body blur, my form unraveling into shadow, darkness swirling around me like a living thing.
I vanished into smoke and ash.
My next stop?
Find the child.
Finish what I started.
Let the world learn what true darkness felt like.