Tall, and extremely white, the Caspian mansion sat nuzzled atop the hill of Peach and Main –an embodiment of everything Killian was meant to become. Once inside he quickly dressed before finding his way to the ballroom. Inside his father sat, drink in hand, repeating the spoils of his youth to his group of mindless followers. “And that is how I overtook Ballard.”
“I thought that they surrendered in the end, father?” Killian asked, as he crossed the room, and poured himself a glass of wine. His voice teasing in the way his father always despised.
“Well, yes but,”
“Just curious, father.” Killian smiled. His hand caressing the wooden frame to the back of his chair before, walking around and taking a seat. “Disperse.” He said, his hand waving off his father’s leeching friends.
The King himself was a man whom age suited him but, for an immortal, wasn’t that expected? His hair, although long and full, held the russet color of his family’s lineage, although in time its color has faded to a version more tamed than wild. His eyes, although still blue, seemed clouded with the horrors he bared witness to. Countless battles, and bloodshed. Like his son he wore the royal colors of his family name, the rich purple and raven black. Together his son and him in sight alone, were enough to strike fear into any enemy. Too many have died at the hands of a Caspian. The king lifted his free hand, at the thought of that, and studied it. His eyes shifting to his beloved son sitting next to him, as the foreboding sense of age washed over him. It was too close the time at which the throne would fall to him, the hands of his son too pure for such a daunting task.
“Father?” his son, Killian, called again. His voice shaking him of his inner ramblings. “Are you alright?”
“Fine, son.” The King said, and cleared his throat. His hand reaching out to the boys shoulder, as he riled him playfully trying to change the subject. “So, where did you go off to today? Calimer said he saw you sneaking out.”
Killian rolled his eyes, his complete disdain for Calimer rushing back, and sat back in his seat. And with a heavy sigh he said, “I went to see the girl, father.”
The king nearly spit his wine. His face quickly taking on the crimson hues of his breakfast. “You what?”
“Don’t worry, she wasn’t there.” Killian was quick to say. His voice soft as if not to rock the already sinking boat that was his father. “I just needed to see her, to put to rest all these rumors, and so that Giselle will return my letters.”
“So Giselle could, what?” The King sat up in his chair, his tone cautious as he weighs the length as to how far his son will go to spite him. “No. No, no, no. No! I will not have it.”
“But father nothing, you are already betrothed to another.” His words were final and absolute. “Rielle is your future, you will see.”
“But what if when she arrives, I feel nothing more for her than the absent sense of these stories you’ve placed in my head. What if-”
“I will not stand for this disobedience, Killian.” The king said, slamming his cup down hard against the arm of his chair, as wine and glass shattered as one. “As the Legacy is written, so shall it be. Rielle, in human form, is the sole reincarnation of our blessed mother. Her blood is what courses through all of our veins, as hers was the one whom gave life back to your ancestor, Gerald De Caspian. Can’t you see that? The only way for us to defeat Marcus and his men, is for the two of you to rebirth a new generation of our kind. A more pure and stronger version like before.”
“Father I don’t see how that will work.” Killian said, his voice heaving in discord at the idea that a mere human’s blood could hold the key. Yes, her bloodline is of the one who first gave my great, great-great grandfather life, he repeated to himself. And yes, those who drank from her ancestor had been some of the strongest our kind had ever seen but, where in all of this does it state that the two had to be together in order to rebirth this new age? It didn’t, he exclaimed aloud to himself. “We don’t have to be together, in order for this to work.”
The King laughed a whole hearted sort of laugh, and then stood up from his chair. Seeing this, a servant immediately rushed to his side, and took from his hand the jagged remains of his glass before stepping back to his corner. “You are so young, my son, to the ways of our world.” The King’s words were like a slap to his son’s face. “Gerald De Caspian went insane with the lust he held for that girl, as would any man who was lucky enough to taste the power her blood gave.” The King paused long enough, that his son had begun to worry he had forgotten himself. He watched from his chair his father, as he walked deeper towards the center of the room. His hands spread wide as if he were presenting something he had long awaited, and as he brought them down so came his gaze. His eye narrowing in on his son with a force almost too heavy to bear. “It is in our blood to love those of her bloodline. Even I, myself, can almost taste the sway of its lust from being so close. But it wasn’t in my time for her to come back to us once more, and for her to return to us now, only confirms that I am right. With her we will wipe Marcus from existence, and once again rule like the Gods we are. Like we were always meant to be.”