Sirius drew his Sig—a dark rod adorned with a lone, whisper-thin feather, bound by a slender string, a sigil of his own forging—and fixed it steadily on his uncle. Then, slow and deliberate, he began his march forward, each step heavy with silent fury.
"Calm yourself, Sirius. We are family, are we not? Do not act in haste," Alms pleaded, retreating step by trembling step, eyes darting desperately for any escape. Yet his words were swallowed by the storm roiling in Sirius's chest, unheard and unheeded.
With every measured step Sirius took, the very earth beneath quaked in response. The worn roof above ripped free in a violent gust, swept into the raging tempest that seemed to awaken from his rage. The clouds overhead twisted into swirling shadows, like dark brush strokes on an angry sky—an ominous, living canvas.
Lightning jagged from the clods it was under Sirius's control, an unrelenting spear of raw power that struck Alms, hurling him violently to the cold, unforgiving floor. The Seal Sirius wove was no mere seal; it was a curse, wrought from the deepest recesses of his will—a bending of nature's laws to his iron command. Alms's flesh bubbled and blistered, split open as if carved by unseen blades, agonizing and unrelenting.
"Stop! Have mercy!" he wailed, writhing beneath the merciless curse.
"Sirius, Enlarge!," he whispered—words like cold steel in the dark. Alms's form grotesquely ballooned, his shirt tearing as buttons exploded outward, scattering like fallen stars across the trembling room.
Raising his Sig high into the storm-torn sky, Sirius summoned forth a monstrous visage, born from the swirling clouds—a nightmarish face, twisted and malevolent, alive with crackling lightning that poured from its cavernous maw. With a terrible roar, the face consumed Alms, swallowing him whole along with a quarter of the battered house. Lightning arced again, tearing through him as his screams echoed through the halls, driving his children to desperate tears of terror.
Sirius's gaze then turned to his cousins, huddled like frightened rats beneath the hearth, their wide eyes shimmering with pure, raw fear.
"I will not kill you this time," his voice cut cold as the edge of winter's blade. "But you shall bear witness to this day—each night, your dreams will be haunted by what has transpired. Should you ever fall, come seek me. Challenge me. Duel me. I welcome it, Certare usque."
Their faces convulsed and twisted, morphing into pig-like masks of guilt and dread.
"This shall be the punishment of a face that matches your soul."
Sirius stepped out into the crumbled ruin, eyes locked upon the monstrous face lingering in the sky. It spat his cousins down, broken and shattered. Slowly, the clouds dissolved—smoke caught on a fleeting breeze—yielding the sun's golden return.
From the wreckage, dark smoke curled and coiled about Sirius like a living cloak. With a wave of his Sig, he vanished, reappearing before the towering golden gates of the Walfier mansion.
The gates stood majestic, gleaming fiercely in the sunlight—a mirror to the burning sky. Statues of sphinxes flanked each side: lion bodies crowned with human heads, eternal guardians and heralds of fortune and forgotten power.
Three vigilant guards held their posts: two young men, alert and taut with readiness, and a woman whose sharp eyes missed nothing.
Sirius paused briefly, memories of tender days with his mother flooding his mind—a bittersweet ache. Without uttering a word, he raised his Sig. The gates shrieked in defiance, tearing free from their ancient hinges, revealing a yawning maw for him to enter.
"Who goes there? Identify yourself!" barked a guard, brown hair tousled, Sig held high in challenge.
Arcane wards flared and hissed around Sirius, but with a simple downward sweep of his hand, he shattered their magic. His gaze met theirs—silent, unyielding, dark as the void.
Before the guard could react, a black fog erupted from Sirius, sweeping over one with deadly swiftness, felling him in an instant. The remaining two guards retreated; the woman flung a flare skyward—a blazing sphinx sigil—signaling the alarm.
Sirius smiled darkly as the black smoke thickened, swirling like a cloak caught in a storm's breath. His eyes, once vibrant blue, faded to an eerie, trance-like green.
"Pervolito." His feet lifted from the ground, and he floated effortlessly toward the mansion's shadowed heart.
"Facio la Raven." From his cloak, shadows peeled away, transforming into a swirling swarm of ravens whose cries wove a haunting symphony above the burning halls.
"Ignes." Black flames rained like fire-tipped arrows, turning all they touched to ash. Screams echoed and twisted through the mansion's crumbling bones.
A few brave souls dared to stand, but Sirius's Sig pointed, and the ravens descended—ghostlike and ethereal. Passing through flesh as if it were smoke, they left only dust in their wake.
"Who are you? What do you want?" a man in silver robes demanded—Sirius's father.
Sirius halted, his cold gaze piercing the aging man.
"I AM VENGEANCE," he declared, his voice a dark bell tolling finality. Fear gripped all who heard.
Seals flew like stars in a darkened sky, but the ravens formed an impenetrable shield, intercepting every strike.
"Oh, even my own father seeks to kill me," Sirius murmured with bitter sarcasm.
Aliana burst forth, hair wild and face pale with terror.
"What are you doing here?" she gasped, knowing but refusing to believe.
"Where is Alms?" she demanded.
A twisted smile curled Sirius's lips. "Dead."
"And now, you will join him." He leveled his Sig.
The ravens surged forward; Aliana's scream was cut short as she turned instantly to ash.
Screams erupted as others fled, but death's shadow was relentless. One by one, the Walfier bloodline fell, their ancestral home crumbling to ruin.
"Ronin, we warned you," whispered an elder as he vanished to dust. "Your devil son will be our undoing. You should have taken his gift sooner."
Sirius descended, locking eyes with his father.
"To think Mother trusted you to save us," he said, pressing his Sig to Ronin's brow.
"I didn't know until it was too late," Ronin stammered.
"No matter. You married her for her gift, then stole it. When I showed promise, you cast us out and tried to kill us to cover your crimes," Sirius's voice cut like winter's ice.
Ronin remained silent, defeated.
"I'll enlighten you," Sirius whispered softly. "My mother's gift passes not at birth, but at death. What you took were scraps—her true power lives in me." He raised his Sig, dark and resolute.
"Kill me, but know this: the world will hunt you. After this, you will have nowhere to hide."
Ronin smiled bitterly. "Let them come. It will save me the trouble of finding you."
"Since childhood, I've wondered why lands are divided, why the rich feast while children starve, why nobles stand idle. I will remake this world. Farewell, Father. It's a shame you won't see the one I build."
The ravens swarmed, ending Ronin's breath. Then vanished, like smoke fading on a wind.
From that day forth, whispers spread of Sirius—the dark flame of Soth, the shadow that devours kingdoms.