The best punishment for someone like him was boredom and time—and so, after what seemed like a painful stretch of eternity, when time passed so long that I could barely remember what I even looked like or why I was stuck here in the first place…

Or when I had even woken up and came upon the situation I was in…I heard something.

It was so silent that one could barely hear it, but it seemed like I had been expecting it.

That soft click.

The coffin that trapped me finally unlocked itself.

Something hammered within my chest as if it also sought to remove itself from its confines, but then I was finally able to free myself.

It may have years of what seemed to have been nonstop torture of deafening silence before I pushed open the coffin’s lid and saw the destruction that lay before me.

Broken pillars, fallen down structures and the ruins of a place that might have been a citadel, a fortress to others and what... was supposed to be a home that might have welcomed me.

Everything was destroyed.

When I finally looked around to discern what actually transpired, a sudden brightness suddenly started to burn me and it came from a wall that was broken down, direct sunlight burned my skin as if seeking to purge and melt me—until a domain of darkness overwhelmed my surroundings and my eyes finally landed on two individuals standing in between the destruction.

They were so silent that if not for the darkness, I would have not been alerted of their presence.

"You poor thing."

A woman garbed with a beautiful blue dress looked at me with what might have been pity.

Or what may have passed for it.

Were they the ones who were responsible for all of this?

She didn’t look like she was dressed for destruction, her dress was a beautiful blue gown and she held in her hand a parasol which wasn’t exactly a weapon of choice that you often had in your arsenal.

Her hair was golden, skin fair and yet her eyes were blood red and betrayed whatever conception I may have had for her. She was no human, only a reflection of it–no, even greater than them if the gut wrenching stomach was any indicator.

The same applied for the man right next to her, dressed in a dark suit that matched with his shadows. His dark hair with blood red eyes sent shivers down my spine and yet I fought back the urge to show weakness.

I knew they were not normal, but they were like me.

Kindred spirit.

"What happened?" Words finally left my parched lips and I found my throat unbelievably dry… a thirst within me that needed to be filled.

"Tell him, Harold." The woman turned to the man with shadows that stretched so far—yes, he truly was the one responsible for the shadows that protected and shielded us from the sun.

"The Blackwell House has fallen." The man spoke, quietly and a far cry different from the more animated woman.

"What?" I looked at them, not understanding. My mind had blanked and the miniscule of self-awareness I had vanished.

Unfortunately, I failed to shield my features.

"Do you remember who you are? I think you've been stuck there for two centuries, boy." The woman strolled up to me in what may have been a motherly way, her voice soothing to hear.

If not for the fact that there was a look of sardonic amusement in her eyes.

"..." I stayed silent as if I wasn't able to reach out to any information—until finally, finally the name arrived on my lips. "My name is Cassius Blackwell. Son of the Lord—"

"The late Lord Carnelius and the rest of your family." The woman interrupted me as she stopped and gave me a mirthful smile. "We were actually about to remove everything, but then we saw your coffin. Amidst everything, it had survived."

It didn't seem to be possible—I should have been annoyed with her or felt a blow to my stomach to hear of the news, but as I looked all around me and took in the damage, the destruction and everything that befell this place. It seemed so surreal.

"I lost everything."

"Yes, yes you did. Everyone died and you somehow survived—with what I assume was supposed to be your coffin prison."

I frowned and glared at them. "That much I can assess—now who are the two of you?"

"It seems like the time in the coffin must have really caused a problem with your mind." The woman smiled and spoke in a far more prickly tone. "Or perhaps you are an uneducated brat and if that was the case—then I'm not surprised that your father has left you here in the coffin. You are standing in front of two Vampire Lords, behave yourself, whelp."

All of a sudden, my body felt an intense searing heat—the blood within me boiled, akin to hot water pouring all over my skin except it was from the inside. The intensity scorched within me, an infernal rage that attempted to make me succumb to it.

I curled over, my body reacting to its own and I grimaced, the scorching sensation didn't stop—it was an attack straight into my body and a name escaped my lips.

"R-Reinhart!"

"Good. But not good enough," the woman said. "Even if you've forgotten everything—how dare you forget all of the Vampire Houses?"

"Aster." The man spoke and the woman sighed.

"You're lucky that Harold here is much kinder than me. I was about to suggest letting you die in the sun—the less competition, the better after all. Show more respect."

When the pain eased away from my body, I looked up and glowered at the two but bit back from making a scathing remark. If I wanted to survive, I needed to reel back in my emotions.

Fortunately, it seemed so easy to pull them back.

For they felt only like a shadow, a remnant of what might have been.

"Apologies—I'm still trying to understand the situation. You've mentioned that I was stuck here for two centuries?"

"Our estimates. And you do seem to not be lying, the ring on your finger reveals that you are indeed a son of the Blackwell and not a coward who abandoned his Master." Reinhart smiled and then turned to her companion.

It was clear that I had no bearing on them.

"But enough of this, since we found him still alive—what if we make him our puppet Lord? We will essentially be controlling three houses—a fallen one and completely diminished once, but as long as we make him transform others into Vampires then we can build more power—"

It was clear to me that the power differences were different, that these two could end me if they wanted to simply because I was young and they were far more experienced... but if I didn't say anything, I was simply going to be reduced to what they wanted.

"Excuse me," I said. "Fallen House or not, without any other survivors except for me—that means that I am a Lord like the two of you, am I not correct?"

"How adorable—"

"Attacking another Lord would be pathetic," I said as I looked down and saw the ring on my finger. Blood red, but it seemed to have saved me. "I can see that we're Vampires, but is there no such thing as respect between even those of our same kind? How do we expect to protect each other when you also plan each other's demise?"

"Oh, I feel a stirring in my chest." the woman placed a hand on her large bosom. "Almost, just a tiny bit—but that's your Charm isn't it? You got a little bit of spirit and bite, huh?"

"It would be troublesome to have a puppet Lord who does not wish to bow his head," Harold said.

"Then we break off his fangs," The woman said.

"If you break my fangs, I'll be useless," I said, not entirely sure of what I was saying, but I spoke all the same. "I won't be able to turn another person into a Vampire—besides, better a known enemy with you than a dull blade. If the two of you do not think you can handle me, a mere two hundred old Vampire... then I pity the Vampire Houses that you're in charge of."

"I'm not quite sure if his lack of memory has made him so bold or whether he was always this belligerent, Harold. What do you think?"

"..."

"Yes, I also don't particularly pay attention to the late Carnelius' complaints either." The lady sighed aloud then eyed me. "But it seems that you've at least remembered one useful thing. You cannot sway us with words of flattery, an attempt to follow rules—use those for the Fey, but a challenge to my ability to control a barely adult Vampire who is the whelp of a fallen Vampire House? I'll take it."

I resisted the urge to sigh in relief–I couldn’t do that, not with them.

The lady smiled and then turned to the other man. "Or do you have any other suggestions, Harold?"

He shrugged. "He'll have some use."

"Then it's settled then, brat," she said. "The Blackwell House has fallen and as the sole member—the fate of your family is up to you."

As she said those words, the ring on my finger flashed and something appeared in my vision. It was both strange and familiar, as if it was embedded in my mind.

[Do You Accept Your Fate?]

What other option did I have? If I refused, I might be rendered into a mindless puppet.

"I accept," I smirked. "Do not underestimate me, for the Blackwell—"

The lady approached me and flicked my forehead. "We’re the last people who’ll want to hear some arrogant and frivolous words, whelp."