Luciel’s POV

Darkness shrouds the space around me, its shadows so deep that I can no better work out the path ahead than I can the outline of my own fingers. Still, I keep my chin tilted, my gaze skyward and searching as I wait for the first hint of light to reveal itself.

When I stood here one thousand years ago, I’d been beyond nervous to carry through this tradition for the first time. One thousand years before that, I had not even been here. I’d been in the Hall beneath, struggling not to talk when we were supposed to be reverently silent.

The first millennium celebration in comparison to both had been a simple affair, and not in the way Maeve promised this one would be when she knew good and well our people no longer abided by the word ‘simple’. It was elementary.

We were not so many then, no more than two hundred or so. Still relatively young, and with what little we had, we spent the year leading up to the momentous date preparing to celebrate.

In the end, it had been better than any of us dared to envision. What was supposed to be one night stretched over into four, and under the watchful light of the auroras, we tested the real strength of the castle’s foundations with how we’d cavorted.

There was music and cheer, laughter and dance, and joy. I remembered the joy the most of all. It was the type that sank into your veins and made itself all you would ever need to survive. Even after it ended, that joy lingered within each of us for years to come.

I search for that feeling now as I stare at the layers of ice above.

“Do you remember the first?”

Maeve tenses at my back, ever conscious of maintaining traditions. We were technically not supposed to be speaking at this junction, but the only people who had ever scolded us lie with the ice now.

Eventually, curiosity gets the best of her. “I remember having to fish you out of the ocean after you tried to drink half of our blood reserves.”

I chuckle, the sound breaching the darkness enough to likely reach the vampires waiting nearby. “I thought bloodrushes were just a myth,” I admit in a quieter whisper as the memories unfurl themselves. “I felt so insane by the end of it that I wholeheartedly thought I was an ant.”

This time, Maeve laughs too, without any restraints. “Kihlali was livid.”

“She made me spend a month imprisoned within the ice without a shred of clothing,” I recall with a fondness I never thought I would muster for what had been the worst punishment I’d endured at the time. Worst soon came. “Sadistic woman.”

Maeve hums, relishing the memories of kinder times with equal fondness. In such an era, Maeve was not the isekela of our clan. I was not yet Pylen, and nowhere near the position. Our only responsibility rested in enjoying the celebrations for what they were with…

My smile withers, and somehow, I feel Maeve’s do the same. The darkness consumes the briefly won joy, and neither of us tries to find it again as the first hint of blue slithers through the ice above. Nature’s signal, and perhaps one from the Gods as well to leave the past where it belonged.

We descend from the castle’s highest tower, navigating the darkness without a moment’s hesitation, until we come upon the arched doorway that lends into the single path that juts out from the castle on its lonesome.

Maeve stays behind while I step onto the narrow ice that allows for a single line of steps and nothing else. There is only memory and faith to guide me as I walk its length through the pitch, but those are more than enough, and I do not slow until I stand at the perimeter of the ledge above my people.

I can not see a single one of them. With all our inner lights blown and the night just starting to rouse the skies above, we have only the darkness. But I feel them, just as I am sure that they feel me.

“Four thousand years,” I breathe, my voice the only sound that carries with everyone holding so still. “Our founders ventured here four thousand years ago, and carved out a life for each of us, richer than any we had known before. They brought with them our traditions and cultures, and here we are nurtured by them.

“We celebrate them. The ones who created a place for us in a world that would not have us. We celebrate each other, and all we’ve learned from our friends, family, and neighbours alike. And, we celebrate those to come, who will one day stand where we stand, as we are, and celebrate us for all we will do for them.”

My mind strays to my earliest days when I had been led through the tunnels spoken about only in legend at my coast. They were grander than every whispered story had portrayed them to be, and I had tripped over my feet at least thrice while I’d struggled to take them all in.

It had already been enough. The Amaris Clan and all the hope it filled me with was more than enough, but then the woman who would be our guide to our new life, Kihlali, introduced me to the additional three who had made the tumultuous journey to find them. The three that would soon become my closest friends.

“This clan has always been special, and I am forever grateful that it is this clan that found me, as I had found you,” I say as I shutter the memories with a gentle hand. “Four millennia,” I reiterate, leaving the words to hang over us all as we pay a moment to acknowledge the magnificence of such a number, and all we’d endured in that time. “We will claim four thousand more.”

Rounding the satchel from my shoulder, I uncork the tight phial and kneel to pour a trickle of water upon the ledge to add to the remnants of those who had walked this very path.

The moment I stand, the drums begin.

It is only a pair at first, played by one set of skilled hands. They set a fast but triumphant tune that fills the entire castle before another joins in. The melody rouses like a waking beast, welcoming the bells as metal taps against ice, adding to the symphony.

Together, they play their song that steadily grows louder and louder, cueing more to join in until the entire castle carries the scripture the founders are sure to hear. That is when the heaviest drums begin.

Sure hands fall upon aged hide, their battering emitting a slugged echo from the rest before the eyes of those playing the deep-toned drums begin to glow.

Piercing orange light forces the shadows back, bringing the first hints of life to our grandest hall as our mages coalesce their magic. It penetrates my veins the same way it does our foundations, rippling in glowing veins that appear like cracks in the ice as they rush towards the overarching dome that obscures us beneath sheets of ice and snow.

Steady hands had been shaving those layers down for weeks, diligently creating the paths that gathered magic travels through now. They breach the surface in slivers to clear away any freshly fallen snow. Light instantly pours in through the delicate paths, travelling back down through the ice to share the glow of the Auroras above.

The glow of the night sky invades the castle in hues of blues, purple, and greens that bounce off the ice and swim on the walls. Every vampire below comes into view, along with their shining, fanged smiles.

There is no more that should be said, no more left to be done but celebrate, and as cheers rise high, we do just that.

──────────✧──────────

Swirling the blood in my glass, I watch with mild amusement as our youngest work together to hoist one of our largest melding pots and hold it taunt for the open-mouthed vamp lying below in wait.

They are a trio, and the first set of vampires to arrive at our shores this century. They had shaken violently when first being brought before me, not from the cold, but from their spasming muscles that had had to endure the swim without blood. They’d been no better as they’d made their way through every trial, but not one of them had ever complained or shown anything but reverence as they waited to learn whether or not they’d be welcomed into the clan.

It had taken weeks for them to dare a smile, even after we had allotted them a place in our halls, but now here they were, chasing a bloodrush that would surely let me stick them all into the ice for a month or two.

“Shouldn’t you stop them?”

I look up as Altain dips his head before sinking into the space beside me, his thick navy robes cascading over the short flight of stairs I’ve chosen as my perch.

I shrug as I watch the newborn struggle to swallow the blood that rushes into his mouth without pause. “We are celebrating,” I remind before I pay a pointed glance to the pitcher of mulled wine held firm in his hand. “And I do not think you are in a position to cast judgments.”

“This is to last me the length of the celebration,” he dismisses as he takes a measured sip. “I am pacing myself.”

I hum, sharing his smile as I swirl my blood absently. “How long do you think this one will last?”

“If we’ve lost Maeve already, I would guess at least a set of weeks,” he replies, and I am quick to follow his gaze to where a cohort is trying their best to coax Maeve into dancing.

She hasn’t, but her axe is resting against the wall, and that is as blatant an acquiescence to the inevitable as any other.

“You will want to see that,” I tell him quietly. “She will not do it again in your lifetime. So do not miss it.”

“I will not,” Atlain replies with a hushed chuckle.

He continues his observation of the rest of our clan while I make mine of him. No signs of strain show themselves, but sometimes magic takes its toll in quieter places.

“How did you all manage— with the spell?” I eventually ask, making it explicit.

Atlain does not wither beneath my stare. Instead, he straightens with pride. “Many were nervous, but we managed. Our ancestors guided us, as yours did you.”

I smile, pleased. The mages of our clan were as interwoven with us as our traditions, but they did not cheat time and age the way we did. They lived and died without trying to match our timeline, and so none of the ones present today had performed the age-old spell that allowed the auroras this deep without risking our exposure.

I stare up at the beauty, appreciating the waves of light that ripple over our walls, bathing us in the rays we were soon to feel in the open. It was only the first day, but I was sure all present were eager to rise to enjoy it fully.

“Are you joining us when we go above?” I ask as I bring my cup to my lips.

“Of course. We are better equipped to hide our presence when we are close to everyone,” Atlain answers before frowning slightly. “Unless there is a reason we should not.”

I shake my head. If asked, Atlain and the other our mages would remain underground while the rest of the clan surfaced, but that was not a punishment I would dole out for my own selfish pursuits.

If they sought to of their own volition— well, that would have offered an excuse for me to do the same, but it seemed the Gods would stand for nothing less than my complete engagement with no barriers between them and me.

Withholding a sigh, I set my glass down and push to my feet. “Would you keep an eye on them?” I ask with a nod towards the trio already switching places for another round. “And on her?”

Atlain nods without asking any questions, and I smile, forever grateful for his never-ending discretion as I slip away without allowing Maeve to notice.

Escaping the Eastern Wing, I walk quietly through the halls overrun with excitement. Laughter pours out of each room I pass, as the rest of the clan portrays equal measures of jubilation, enough so that few even notice my presence or are burdened by acknowledging it. Perhaps that is why, without their watchful gazes, I see their contentment.

It is not as ghostly a rendition as mine. It is real and whole and…

I stop midstep.

There is a pair. A couple. Nestled together, they lean over one of the upper bannisters, engrossed in a hushed conversation. They wear radiant smiles that shine brighter than their golden accessories for the millennia. Not too far to their right, a group of guardsmen chatter amongst themselves, sharing memories that leave them curled over, and desperately clutching their stomachs. Below them, two of our elders croon together, engraving the night into the ice for the ones to come to reminisce.

I stare, unmoving, unable to take another step as I realise with sudden clarity that the clan had recovered.

I thought they had not. Not in their hearts. That theirs were no better mended than mine, and that they were all just trying to get on since losing Arraya. But no. They were restored, and if not, on the cusp of being so.

The suffering I felt was none other than my own. I was the only one who had not moved on.

My feet persist reflexively, and all through the castle, proof of the apparent truth showcases itself. Somehow, the realisation does not destroy me. It does not even hurt.

I thought surfacing would be difficult. After so long spent beneath the ice, denying Maeve’s numerous attempts to get me to rise, I started to imagine that it was something I could not do rather than would not do.

It turns out to be no hardship at all as I break out of one of the tunnels’ hidden entrances and find myself above ground.

Terra Australis. Antarktikos. Iqhwa-elide. Antarctica.

The land of eternal winter has not changed since the last time I surfaced to see her from the outside. Blackened mountains rise from the snow to the east while sheets of ice stretch out for as far as my eyes can see. It is quiet but not still.

The winds are alive here, sweeping across the surface to lift crystals of ice that sparkle under the enlivened night sky. They lash against my skin, spurring me forward, and I am not so forgotten as to ignore their call.

The surrounding ocean crashes in the distance, a dutiful song I realise I have missed immensely. I once would not start my day without hearing its tune. How cruel time was.

Resuming my trek, I tilt my head back and follow the path the Gods set for me in the sky. Green streaks stretch across the heavens, echoes of their footsteps, and I wonder absently if she sits beside them now.

“Everyone has made peace with it,” I tell her, in case she does, “with losing you. Would you think me wicked for being relieved that they have?”

It is a foolish question to ask because she would not. Arraya would be as overjoyed as I was to know that the clan we found, came to love and shape to be even greater than we had found it, had uncovered a way to continue onwards without her.

In truth, Arraya would be honoured to have been mourned for a year, and distraught to know it carried on for far longer.

I stop in the snow, shortening the path for the others to chase, and slowly sink, letting myself sit. It is unceasingly gentle and comforting, and I soon lie in it so that my view of the night sky is full and unencumbered.

“If they have, it is only a matter of time before I do,” I whisper, speaking the harrowing truth now that there is none present to hear. “And if I do, then how terrible a lover am I?”

The very worst, I would call it by my own standards. To even think for a moment that I could ever cease to love her as I did was blasphemy, but I had always had little faith in the Gods.

Still, I did not want it to happen, could not allow myself to approach a day where I did not mourn the absence of her as faithfully as I had from the day I lost her. I would sooner bury myself in the ice beside my predecessors and allow the clan to continue without me. But the skies shift anxiously the moment the thought enters my mind, the green strokes of the Gods’ hands on this world moving beneath the backdrop of blues that sit with stars scattered between.

I did not need a mage to interpret the message. It was as loud as each I’d heard whenever I considered escaping the loss of her.

“I am to be here,” I sigh to her and the Gods alike. “So you say, but what for? After all this time, I would love to know. The clan is fine, Maeve will be fine too, so why?” The words grit out from me as proof of my annoyance.

Patience had been a taught virtue to me, which is exactly why it was the quickest to slip from my grasp when tested. And it is tested now as the skies remain still, the Gods decidedly uninvolved.

I sigh, not bothering to mutter my hatred of them. They’d heard it enough times already.

“Perhaps this is to be a season of change,” I muse, chuckling softly at the absurdity of such a concept. “If it is, make the change known before I take my leave, will of the Gods or not.”

I can almost hear Arraya’s scolding, right beside that of Maeve’s. How dare I disrespect the Gods our kind had chosen to follow after our makers were slain to cope with our existence. Such rude thoughts would see me battered between the pair of them, and all the while I would laugh through it, and so would Nkosi.

I slide an arm over my face, so that neither the Gods, nor Arraya, could see the evidence of my misery as it fills my eyes. And him, too.

I wonder… if I had known that this would be who I was, made to carry this pain, would I have made the journey across the seas? Would I have remained on my family’s shores and faced life there as a vampire or stopped halfway through and let myself sink into the ocean?

If I knew I would lose two of them when I made it here, would I have run the day Kihlani introduced me to the others?

Yes. Yes, I would.

“I can not suffer more,” I whisper to them all. “I can not withstand much more. If this is a time for change, then bring it forth. I invite it.”

The Gods paint the skies in a flourish of blue that disappears as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me to wonder if that was a sign of a prayer answered, or yet another, denied.

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Well, don’t say you didn’t ask for it when a cute omega shows up on your doorstep!!!!!!!!!!

Thoughts?????

Thoughts on another look into Luciel??? Into the clan???? Into his past and sadness????

I am STRUGGLING not to share it all straight out and not sprinkle in more, this even feels like too much but I really want yall/us to figure out his past more with Peter and just want to give enough before they actually meet to explain his behaviour a bit.

ALSO, they are going to meet soon, don’t worry! Like within the next 2/3 chapters most likely. I also think the next 2 chapters are going to be in Peter’s POV but we’ll see.

All in all I hope you enjoyed and weren’t too lost with new concepts, settings and characters! I hope with Peter’s POV it’ll clear up outstanding stuff

Also, how cool that they have witches and have had them for generations! Love that

Next update will take a little longer cause I’ll be working on extras next week, but any updates will be on my page/insta – @tippy446_ – and sneak peeks on Patreon and my website – patreon.com/tippy + tippysuniverse.com

But that’s all for now! Please remember to vote and comment!!!!

Until next time,
Byeeeeee Humanssssssssss