Two hundred lustres had passed since the end of the Void War, yet its echo still lived in stone and shadow across the Nocthe Kingdom.
Regent Vilad Eidolon, second in command to the Black Sovereign, sat unmoving upon a throne forged of black mythril, a material that absorbed light rather than reflected it, as though the metal itself recognized authority of the shadow bearer seated.
Beside the throne stood his bound, tall and pale, white hair falling straight down his back, dressed in layered royal robes whose embroidery was visible only when light struck them at certain angles, while a long ceremonial scythe rested casually in his grasp like an extension of his presence.
The bearer on the throne was looked like a black groovy shadow with no face, no body.
Bearer and bound were one existence split into function, the shadow holding authority while the face carried motion, speech, and interaction, yet neither could exist meaningfully without the other for long.
The throne room remained silent until its massive obsidian doors opened without sound, allowing a Veil Knight to enter with precise steps measured not by distance but by deference, his own bound walking behind him in perfect mirrored cadence.
The Veil Knight halted at the designated distance, his black silhouette allowed his bound to step forward and bow deeply, not to the face beside the throne but to the black presence that ruled the room.
As if responding to a silent command of Regent Vidal that had never been spoken aloud, the bound of the Veil Knight straightened and delivered the message in a calm, reverent voice meant to carry weight rather than emotion.
"My Lord, Lady Vestera Eidolon has given birth to a boy, and both the and child remain stable within the estate's inner chambers," the bound announced without hesitation or flourish.
The bearer upon the throne shifted slightly, a minimal movement that nonetheless altered the balance of the room, causing shadows along the walls to lean inward as though listening more closely.
Vilad's bound interpreted the gesture instantly, his voice emerging as a direct translation of intent rather than thought of the bearer, shaped by long discipline and instinctive alignment.
"Lord says, may this era finally bear the Child of the First Black, and may the kingdom be worthy of what follows," the bound spoke with measured solemnity.
With another slight movement of the silhouette's hand, the Regent dismissed the messenger, and the Veil Knight retreated immediately, his bound bowing once more before both figures exited in perfect synchronization with the bound behind the bearer.
Silence returned, thick and expectant, broken only by the faint hum of distant light structures embedded within the palace walls, systems designed to regulate shadow behavior across the capital.
Regent Vilad raised one arm, fingers shaped like darkness sculpted into form, and issued a command that did not require volume to carry authority.
"Bound, you will go and see the child," the order formed, neither request nor suggestion, but certainty shaped into action.
"As you wish, my lord," his bound replied, and in the same breath vanished from the throne room.
Left alone, Vilad rose from the throne without sound and moved toward the open terrace, where the sky of Nocthe spread endlessly above the palace like a vast field of suspended cocoons.
Billions of structures filled the heavens, each resembling a sealed chrysalis formed of light and condensed calamity yet to be fall on the surface, arranged side by side in patterns none had ever fully mapped or understood.
From their knowledge few cocoons represented lineage, fate, and calamity, each one corresponding to a living bloodline bound to the greater systems governing existence itself.
Vilad's gaze locked onto a distant anomaly, a cocoon burning with deep crimson intensity, visible even across half a million helen of spatial separation. His thoughts formed without sound, sharp and bitter, shaped by centuries of restrained rivalry and political awareness.
"It seems the Bloodfallen have succeeded, and the Child of the First Red has emerged within their domain," he reflected, anger tightening the intangible edges of his silhouette.
The Regent clenched his shadowed hand, darkness compressing inward like matter under extreme pressure, frustration bleeding through his otherwise disciplined control.
"Five thousand Lustre of noble lineage, and still our clan has failed to manifest the First Black," his bound would have spoken, yet this time the thought remained unvoiced, too sharp for public translation.
Then the sky shifted.
Above the Eidolon estate, one cocoon began to darken, its usual grey blue glow draining away as if swallowed, replaced by an absolute black that absorbed surrounding light.
The transformation rippled outward violently, triggering a cascade of destabilization that swept across a thousand helen in every direction, collapsing minor structures, disrupting shadow alignments, and causing normal hollow blacks to fall to their knees without understanding why.
It was a Lineage cocoon, not a calamity born for destruction, but of arrival, the world reacting instinctively to something it had been waiting for since before recorded history.
Vilad reacted instantly, leaping from the terrace and landing atop the highest tower of the estate to get a better feel with this bound not by his side to see, his silhouette anchoring itself against the surging atmospheric distortion.
From this vantage point, he felt the cocoon's final transformation, its surface cracking not outward but inward, folding light into itself as though sealing a promise. Before he could analyze further, his bound's presence returned within his mind, carrying confirmation that struck deeper than any political calculation.
"Lord, the child is Lady Vestera's," the bound communicated directly, reverence unmistakable even without sound.
Space bent subtly, and Vilad vanished from the tower, reappearing instantly within the private chambers of the estate, where soft controlled lighting maintained stability for both mother and child.
Lady Vestera Eidolon lay exhausted upon the bed, her breathing steady but shallow, while beside her rested her bound, white haired and ethereal, maintaining alignment to preserve her strength.
In her arms lay a newborn, small and silent, wrapped in dark fabric that seemed to cling naturally to his presence, still in the Unsplit state where existence had not yet divided. So, the baby has no bound until the First Divide event.
~~
A/N: The chapter could feel weird about what are bearer, bound, Black sovereign, First Divide, Cocoon sky, Void war, Lustres, Helen, Veil Knight, The First black, The First Red. It will make more sense with more chapters.
I wanted to try something new, hope you liked.
100 Power stones = 1 Extra Chapter.