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Chapter 1 - Chapter 1:Blood Rite

All is fair in...

I groaned as I slowly opened my eyes. I was so not a morning person.

They were a reminder that my day was just beginning and that there

was a ninety percent chance for them to turn out as bad as the last one,

if not worse. I sigh as I sit up. I finally gather my bearings and realize it's

Sunday. I fucking hated Sundays! Looks like my day would be worse than

the last one. I scream into my pillow before eventually finding the

energy to go about my morning rouƟ ne. I Ɵe my hair in a loose braid

and adorn my newest pair of leather boots. I admire them for a good

minute before moving to the window. I just stare outside trying to

orient my emoƟ ons. For what awaited me today evening was a shit

show. It's sƟ ll preƩ y early in the morning. Unsurprisingly, most of the

city is awake and bustling about. I watch as the vendors hurry to set up

their businesses; bakeries, my favorite bouƟ que, where the modiste

was just turning the open sign. I loved staring out my window. There

was always something to see. I loved watching the vendors duƟ fully set

up shop, the occasional brawls between two drunkards on the streets

also made for quality entertainment. Once or twice, you'd get a glimpse

of a pick-pocket or the occasional peƩ y thief who miraculously oŌ en

got away unnoƟ ced as far as my observaƟ ons were concerned. Veralis,

the capital of my great kingdom. It was always alive. I revel in the

freedom of the townsfolk as they go about their day. Freedom that I

craved so much I was willing to kill for it. And I was going to do just that

in a few days or so. AŌ er the blood rite, I'd get my freedom. Or

something close to it. But you get what you get no? I have waited

almost an enƟ re century now. Sixty-nine years to be exact. My paƟ ence

has a right to be depleted at this point. I hear the footsteps before the

knock. I knew who it was just by the slight lag of feet when they get to the tenth step. I turn around just in Ɵme to find Malia standing there all

prim and proper, like all the servants here.

"Will you ever knock?"

I honestly got Ɵred of telling her to do so. She never did!

"Good morning milady", she curtsies. I acknowledge her with a nod not

wanƟ ng to start a conversaƟ on with her. The maids here honestly

creeped me out. Malia had to be the most normal one but she was sƟ ll

kind of creepy. They were all too roboƟ c for my taste. Malia makes

quick work of cleaning up my already spotless room. I take my satchel

and sprint to the training grounds. Somehow, I knew I was sƟ ll going to

be 'late' even if I got there thirty minutes earlier. Nothing a hateful

instructor couldn't accomplish. I liked running though. It helped me

clear my mind. I take the longer route through the alleyways of the city.

I felt like I was already losing my mind for the day. As a tradiƟ on, all

imperial bloods had to aƩ end a weekly dinner at the Veralian castle.

Availability and punctuality are highly 'suggested'. At least to those who

haven't completed the blood rite like yours truly. The dinner is

supposed to be a symbol of unity and allegiance of all imperial bloods

and the crown. At least that's what the messenger said as he delivered

the invitaƟ on leƩ er. I knew it was definitely a far cry from that. I calm

down enough before sprinƟ ng faster to the training grounds on the

other side of the city. I try not to think of the nine dukes and their

insufferable offspring and what awaited me today. I wrap the scarf more

securely around my neck as I try to ignore the biƟ ng morning cold. This

makes me all the gloomier as certain memories re-surface. Immortals

like me aren't supposed to feel the cold. But I did. And somehow

despite everything else about me, that fact made me a patheƟ c loser in

front of everyone's eyes. Well, that and my empathic abiliƟ es. I kind of

liked being an empath but who cared right? I was eight when I discovered I was an empath. My biological parents were obviously over

the moon. It meant I was an imperial blood. The only class of nobles

that were 'blessed'. At first, I was as happy as them because I thought

they were proud of me. Only to find out that they were only happy that

I would be their cash cow. A chance at a grander life. One they clearly

craved and cared more for than their own daughter. I was basically sold.

One morning, a week before my ninth birthday an unfamiliar woman

came to get me from my parent's estate. To collect me to be precise. I

didn't even get to say goodbye. My parents were too eager to get rid of

me to get their reward. If for a moment I thought I was special, that

feeling quickly fizzled out as soon as I spent ten minutes inside the

duke's office. A maid had come in and poured us hot tea. I was too

afraid of being in an unfamiliar place to even pay aƩ enƟ on to whatever

the duke was saying. My hands were shaking as I grabbed the teacup.

Of course, the tea ended up spilling over and burning my hand. As

young as I was, even I could recognize the sneer that immediately

plastered itself on the duke's face when he noƟ ced my wince and the

fact that my porcelain-like hand was not healing like it's supposed to.

"An empathic half-breed!" The words sƟ ll haunt me. He spat them with

so much venom that I recoiled in my seat. I rarely saw the duke from

then on but when I did, it from far from a pleasant encounter. The Duke

of Xanthe was a man of few words but whenever he spoke, biƩ erness

and hate seemed to coat his every word that they suffocated you. At

least that was my experience. Even as I registered for the blood rite at

only ten, his contempt shone in his eyes every Ɵme he laid eyes on me.

He even tried returning me to my biological parents but they wouldn't

take me back for some reason. Somehow, they managed to convince

the nefarious Duke of Xanthe to raise me as his own. And no third party

even knows the truth. Granted I doubt anyone really cared who the hell

I was. I never saw my family again aŌ er that. I stupidly tried looking for them but I reached a dead end. My former home seemed to have been

abandoned. I eventually gave up deciding I had enough self-respect to

realize my parents didn't even want me. I cut my trip down memory

lane as I finally reached the fields of the training grounds. There were

only five people. They were doing their daily laps and I somehow

admired their resilience because we usually spent at least six hours a

day training hard. Scratch that. There were six people. How in hell did I

miss him? I can see the evil smirk even from across the fields. I join the

rest doing their laps and try to ignore the evil watching me, lurking

under the shade of the willows across the fields.

"You're late, cadet."

I nearly topple over face-first at the sound of the voice. I look back and

I find it difficult to mask the horror on my face when I see Jas, our O so

lovely instructor, running behind me. He seems to enjoy the horror on

my face. I already feel my anger taking root. I do my best to will it back

in.

"Last I checked training starts at 6:30. It's currently 5. I'm not late…Sir"

"Tsk. Tsk. Poor Gloria. You know if you find me here, you're already late.

You run five more rounds today for tardiness" I nearly crush my teeth

with how hard I'm grinding my them. My name is Lyriana. You know

that you prick! I feel the retort on the Ɵp of my tongue but I will myself

to keep my mouth shut. I force myself to keep running before I actually

lash out. That would probably get me into more trouble.

"Mhhhm. She's mute now. You get stable duty too. Make sure you leave

that horseshit aƫ tude where it belongs while you're at it! Understood

cadet?"

That prick!

"Yes sir", I basically spit out. What was that cadet?" he leans in as if he genuinely didn't hear what I

just said.

"I said yes sir!" I am officially seething! I could probably set ice on fire!

"Great. NOW MOVE IT, CADET! FIFTEEN LAPS. NOW!"

I grind my teeth so hard I think three of my molars broke. I run so much

that I feel like dying if I could. AŌ er three hours I finally get my tenminute break before the sparring and weaponry session. I set myself on

the benches under a wispy willow where I leŌ my satchel. I drink my

water and bask in the comfortable shade and quiet. Most people opt to

not sit near me. I didn't parƟ cularly mind. I came to appreciate the bliss

that comes with the silence. I already feel my leg muscles cramping up. I

close my eyes and recline back on the bench. I slowly breathe in and out

trying to meditate. A face pops up I my mind and I frown. How I wished

to punch that face in. I curse the day I ever met Jas Vareno! He

somehow came to be the bane of my existence. Speak of the devil…

"Are you sleeping during training cadet?"

The first thing that comes to mind when I hear said voice is Fuck off!

"It's recess sir", I reply as I slowly open my eyes. I look up to see the tall

frame standing before me. Copper hair in a military cut, defined

cheekbone, aquiline nose, deathly pale skin and rep lips. Women would

honestly be jealous of his eyelashes too. Sadly, his handsomeness was

dead on me. It maybe had something to do with our mutual hatred for each other.

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