Location :- The Alstavo Residence
The dining room of the Alstavo Residence was dimly lit by antique chandeliers, their golden light flickering softly on the long mahogany table. Fiona Larkin sat near the middle, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the rim of her glass. Silver cutlery gleamed beside polished black plates. The quiet was heavy, almost ceremonial.
She waited alone, thoughts wandering.
In front of her was a photograph—one that had never left her mind. A baby shower at this very mansion nineteen years ago. In it, a young man with the same eyes and the same sharp jawline held her as an infant. He looked exactly as he did now.
"He should've changed by now," she whispered inwardly. "But he hasn't aged a day..."
Just then, footsteps echoed down the hall.
Lydia entered first—elegant, youthful, her long black hair falling over her shoulders like a woman in her twenties, not a mother to a 3000-year-old being. Courage followed, ever the bright presence, and finally Karma, walking with that smooth, calculating grace, hands tucked in his coat pockets, eyes observing everything and revealing nothing.
They each took their seats. Lydia at the head of the table, Courage across from Fiona, and Karma—right beside her.
The silence was deafening until Lydia gently cleared her throat.
"I believe some proper introductions are overdue," she said, folding her hands over her lap. "Fiona, this is my son—Keon."
Karma barely turned his head. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"I know her," he said simply, looking at Fiona with a curious softness.
Something fluttered in Fiona's chest. His smile—it was real. Disarming.
Why does that smile feel like it belongs to me?
She looked down, then back up quickly, trying to steady her voice. "So… are you a mage too? Maybe you could teach me a trick or two."
Karma leaned back slightly, eyes still locked on hers.
"I'd love to use magic," he said coolly, "but I abhor the source." His gaze drifted toward his mother.
Fiona blinked, confused for a moment, then followed his eyes to Lydia.
"Oh," she said softly. Her lips parted as sadness crept into her expression.
Karma saw it. And for the first time in a while, he softened.
"But," he added, "I don't like the well… yet I still need water."
Fiona's eyes lit up, the sadness pushed aside by a small, genuine laugh.
"You shouldn't hate your mother," she said playfully. "She gave you that handsome face, you know."
Courage chuckled, shaking his head. "She's not wrong."
Even Lydia laughed gently, her smile returning—until Karma responded.
"Even diamonds," he said, voice cool and effortless, "are dug out of dirt."
The laughter died instantly.
Lydia's smile faded. Her back straightened. "Excuse me," she said, and stood from the table, walking out of the room without looking back.
Courage sighed, frustrated. "Really, brother?"
But Karma was already rising to his feet, the wine glass untouched.
He left through the side door.
"I should go talk to him," Courage muttered, already pushing back his chair.
Fiona placed her hand gently on his arm. "No… let me."
He looked at her for a second, then gave in with a shrug. "Alright."
As she left the room after Karma, Courage exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. Still hungry. Still aching.
He turned to one of the nearby maids, a young woman who had just stepped in to refill the water jug. She froze under his gaze.
"Don't scream," he said calmly.
Her body stiffened as his eyes glowed faintly red. She was caught in (Coercion), the ability of an Incursio to dominate human minds by simply skin contact.
He walked over slowly, took her hand, and leaned down to her neck.
Fangs slipped from his gums—subtle, swift—and he bit gently, drinking just enough.
The girl remained still, silent, unaware.
He pulled back, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and whispered, "Thank you."
Then he looked toward the door where Karma and Fiona had vanished and muttered, "I hope she knows what she's doing."
Outside_-----
Fiona stood beside him quietly, arms folded as she watched the immortal man who had remained unchanged for centuries… yet now looked completely broken.
"Do you really hate your mother?" she asked softly.
Karma sat on the stone bench in the moonlit courtyard, elbows on his knees, his gaze fixed on the ground. His face—usually unreadable—held a tired, almost haunted expression.
"Your question…" he said without looking up, his voice low and sharp, "makes you think I don't."
"I don't think you do," Fiona replied with a small, amused chuckle. "I think you're just very good at pretending."
At that, Karma slowly raised his eyes to meet hers. There was something unreadable in them—bitterness, maybe. Or guilt.
"What did she do to you that makes you hate her so much?" she asked, her voice lower now, firmer—more serious.
He exhaled through his nose. "She gave me damage only a mother can do."
Fiona took a small step closer, curiosity and concern mixing in her expression. "What did she do?"
Karma leaned back slightly, hands clasped together. He looked off into the distance for a moment before speaking.
"I killed her," he said. "Three thousand years ago. And still… I think I took it easy on her."
Fiona's breath caught. She froze.
"You see," he continued, calmly—too calmly, "my mother was a very sweet person. Kind. Loving. Protective of her children. So imagine my confusion when everything about her shifted overnight."
He let the silence build before continuing.
"One day, when I turned ten, a man named Elijah came to our house. Every time he visited, she would hide me. I used to wonder why. I don't know what they talked about, but after that day, she wasn't the same."
He looked down, almost ashamed to say the next words.
"She pushed me down the stairs. Laughed when she heard Luna—my best friend—was dead. And when Courage cried, she would beat me mercilessly for it. Not him. Me."
Fiona was frozen in place, listening intently, her heart racing.
"But when I turned nineteen," Karma said, "everything changed again. My father and Lydia reawakened my Incursio bloodline… and upgraded it. I didn't understand what they were doing then, but now I do."
He paused, his jaw clenched.
"Where was your father in all this?" Fiona asked quietly.
"He wasn't there," Karma replied, bitter. "Shannon was always running from Elijah. Always leaving Lydia to raise us. And me? I thought Courage's father was mine. I didn't even know the truth back then. I was just a tool to them. A weapon in the making."
The silence that followed was crushing. Fiona's chest ached just after hearing it. And she could see, in that moment, behind all the sharp wit and cold glares—he was still that boy, pushed down a staircase, abandoned, used.
Her instincts took over.
Without a word, Fiona opened her arms slightly, offering him a hug.
Karma tilted his head at her. "I don't do hugs," he said flatly, eyes narrowing.
"I know," she smiled sweetly, stepping forward anyway.
"Don't even think about it."
"Oh, I'm not thinking about it," she said.
"Fiona—"
She suddenly pointed over his shoulder. "Wait—what's that?!"
Karma turned slightly to glance—half curious, half irritated—and just then she threw her arms around him, catching him completely off guard in a firm, warm hug.
He stood stiffly for a second, his entire body unsure how to respond. His arms hung at his sides, stunned.
"You tricked me," he muttered.
"You're welcome," she whispered, holding tighter.
And for the first time in a very long time… he didn't pull away. They sat in the garden behind the Alstavo Residence. The moon hung heavy and full in the sky, bathing everything in cold silver. Karma leaned back against the stone bench, the sharp angles of his face catching the light just right—too perfect, too still. Fiona sat beside him, her arms still warm from the hug she forced on him moments earlier.
She broke the silence, softly. "I have one more question."
Karma's head tilted just slightly, his eyes still trained on the stars. "You're quite fond of questions tonight."
"I want to understand something," she said. "I heard stories… about how the Incursio population exploded almost overnight… back then. When the Mages tried to wipe you out."
Karma didn't respond immediately. He reached down, picked up a black stone from the ground, and rolled it between his fingers.
"You want to know how I turned humans into Incursio?" he finally said.
She nodded. "Yes."
He looked at her now. The yellow in his eyes glowing faintly.
"You turned humans into Incursio," she said slowly, "with your blood… You made them like you."
Karma didn't look at her at first. His gaze was cast far into the distance, like he was staring through centuries.
"When we faced extinction," he began, voice calm, deliberate, "I offered a solution."
Fiona's brows furrowed.
"We had no armies. No allies. The Mages wanted their land back—the land they stole generations before. Land my people bled for under the tyrannical rule of King Oberon—my great-grandfather, Fiona."
She froze. "What…?"
"Yes," Karma turned to her now, his eyes sharp. "Lydia, your precious mentor, was born into royalty. A princess of the Arcanum. The very bloodline that colonized my kind. And yet you wonder why I did what I did?"
"I didn't know," Fiona said quietly, stunned. "She never told me…"
"Of course not," Karma snapped. "Because history written by victors always forgets its victims."
"But that still doesn't justify it," Fiona said, pushing back. "You turned innocent people into immortal weapons."
"I turned them into survivors," Karma growled. "The Mages gave them no choice—burn or kneel. I gave them another way. I gave them power."
"You infected them with your blood."
"I saved them from being forgotten."
Fiona shook her head. "You just wanted revenge."
Karma's jaw tightened, but his voice dropped lower—almost too soft to hear.
"My father… Shannon Alstavo… was killed by Elijah—my own grandfather. Lydia's father. He used the Demon Slayer on. My father in the name of revenge for his best friend who my father killed when they tried to tame him for their own selfish benefits ."
Fiona stared at him, horrified.
"I was a child," Karma continued. "A child born of two worlds—one that rejected me, and one that hunted me. And when they came for us again, when they returned to erase everything we had left…" He took a step forward. "I offered them a solution. And they took it willingly."
Fiona's voice cracked. "But… how could you—"
"You don't see the bad in this," Karma cut her off, "because you're a Mage. You were born on the side that wears crowns and calls itself order."
That struck deep. Fiona staggered slightly, her mind racing.
She had spent her life learning Mage history, believing the Incursio were ancient mistakes—flawed relics of a darker time. But now…
Everything felt rewritten and Karma stood before her, not asking for forgiveness
—only understanding.
Silence fell between them.
Not peace. Not anger.
Just truth. Heavy and hard to hold.
They stood in silence for a moment more, the moonlight bathing the garden in silver.
Then Fiona, trying to break the tension, nudged him gently. "I want to go to school tomorrow."
Karma raised an eyebrow. "School?"
"Yes," she said firmly, folding her arms. "I can't just sit around this mansion all day while curses and centuries-old grudges circle over my head."
Karma chuckled. "You realize it won't be anything like before, right? You've been marked by this world now."
Fiona grinned. "Then come with me. Just for a day. As... my guardian."
Karma blinked. "Me? In a room full of hormone-charged teenagers? Sounds like torture."
She laughed. "I'll keep them off your back."
Karma smirked faintly, voice dry. "Oh, I doubt that. You're forgetting... I look exactly like the picture from your baby shower."
Fiona's face went red. "You remember that?"
He nodded slowly, amused. "You were tiny. I held you in one arm while your brother cried like the world was ending."
Fiona looked away, flustered. "Well... that version of you didn't look like a villain with perfect hair and a grudge against the world."
Karma tilted his head with a grin. "And yet, here we are."
"Tomorrow," she said firmly. "One day. Come with me."
Karma paused. "Fine. But if anyone annoys me... I won't be responsible for what happens."
Fiona smiled. "Deal."