Serenya rushed across the sand, eyes wide with worry. She dropped to her knees beside Valen, her hands fluttering as she checked him over.
"Medic!" she shouted. One of the healers, who had been frozen in shock near Bianca, horrified at the brutality between children, snapped out of it and came running.
"I'm okay, Mom. Hehe…" Valen groaned, trying for a grin.
"You are not okay!" Serenya snapped, her voice trembling. "Did I not tell you not to go?! I tried to stop you, but you-" her words choked, "-you still went in."
Duels were sacred for outcasts. Even above life itself. She had known the moment Valen stepped into the arena that there was no pulling him back.
The medic quickly knelt at Valen's side, inspecting the damage. His arm bled heavily, but the wound wasn't fatal. A handful of cuts and bruises marred his body, painful but not devastating. With a healer's touch and a night's rest, he would recover.
Serenya's shoulders sagged in relief. Then, without warning, she pinched his ear, hard.
"Ow-ow ow ow!" Valen yelped.
"Why do you never listen to me!?" she scolded furiously. "Wait until I tell your father!"
Valen winced, lips twitching into a crooked smile. Uh, Mom… pretty sure Dad would be congratulating me right now.
"And another thing!" Serenya snapped, cheeks flushed with both anger and fear. "You have to take the wager back! You can't make your cousin go through such disgrace!"
Valen's smile faded. His face turned serious as he looked at her. "Mom… You can't interfere. Nobody can."
Serenya froze, then sighed, her hands trembling against his shoulders. She wanted to argue, but all she could do was pull her son close and try to breathe.
*
Dinner had begun.
But Serenya, Valen, and the injured girls were absent.
At the highest table, away from the chatter of common guests, the elders of the Barclays convened. The hall glittered with golden chandeliers and overflowing platters, but their corner was weighed down by silence and grim faces.
An elder finally broke it. "Most guests have arrived. And the duel's outcome… it's already being whispered through every table." His fingers drummed nervously on his cup. "Bianca's defeat will not go unnoticed. We risk losing our hold in the council."
A low murmur spread. The clan had already suffered from Serenya's desertion years ago. Her defiance had weakened their influence in the Siren Council. Bianca was meant to be their redemption, the child who would outshine Serenya's shame by crushing her son publicly.
But now? She had failed. Brutally.
Another elder spat, "Damn that boy. He's an bastard, and now he dares wound Bianca, before half the council's eyes?"
Yet another elder, older and sharper, shook his head. "Don't be blind. The boy fought well. Some of the guests are whispering admiration already. That could cut both ways."
"The Council President arrives tomorrow," one elder said with a sigh. "He has always carried a fondness for Serenya, thanks to her grandfather. That old man's sentiment is the only reason she was invited. If he sees promise in her son…" His voice trailed off, heavy with implication.
One misstep, and the entire house of cards would collapse.
The murmurs rose in uneasy waves until the patriarch finally spoke, his voice cold and absolute. "No matter what, Bianca must regain her backing. Whatever it takes."
He paused, eyes like deep water, dangerous and unforgiving. "And once the festival ends… eliminate that bastard child."
The words landed like stone. None of the elders flinched. None protested.
After what Valen had done, leaving him alive was no longer an option.
The decision was made.
And just like that, the discussion moved on- to wine shipments, guest lists, ceremonial duties and other plots. As though the order of a child's death was no more than a routine detail.
*
Morning had arrived.
The city of Miami was alive in a way Valen had never seen before. From outcasts to normies, the streets overflowed with bodies, music, and chatter. The festival had drawn them like moths to flame, after all, so many of the world's most dazzling celebrities were sirens, and this was their stage.
Hotels had been fully booked the moment the announcement dropped. While ordinary folk couldn't step into the sacred grounds of the main festival, the concerts and side-events were open, and that was more than enough to send waves of tourists crashing into the city.
From his balcony, Valen gazed at the endless lines forming below. Music thumped faintly in the distance, banners snapped in the wind, and the morning breeze carried the smell of street food, ocean spray, and perfume all mingled together.
He leaned against the railing, a serene look softening his face despite the soreness in his body.
Behind him, his mother's voice cut across the room. She was on the phone, pacing, then suddenly looked his way.
"Valen! One of my friends has arrived. Come, we should welcome them."
He groaned and pushed himself upright, his joints protesting. "Ugh… Do I really have to? I'm still half-broken from yesterday."
"You're walking, aren't you?" Serenya arched a brow. "Then you're fine."
He muttered under his breath but shuffled over. "So… who's coming?"
Serenya glanced at him casually, as though she were mentioning nothing more important than the weather.
"Oh, it's Mortica. She brought her family."
Valen froze."…Wait. What!?"
*
Valen and his mother made their way toward the lobby.
His steps were steady enough, but his face was a battlefield of emotions. One moment his eyebrows furrowed, the next he was smirking like he'd remembered a private joke. Every so often he even let out a weird little snicker.
Serenya noticed instantly, her son was acting strange, very strange.
"So," she asked lightly, "what's got you so excited?"
"Oh… um...are her children with her too?" Valen asked, trying and failing to sound casual.
"Hmm… she did say her whole family, so yes, most likely."
Damn!! I'm actually gonna meet Wednesday Addams! Valen's heart thumped, and he was basically fangirling inside. Well, what else could he do? He was about to meet the protagonist of this world, after all.
The Addams.
He'd grown up on stories of his mother's wild days in Ophelia Hall, the pranks, the rivalries, the ridiculous adventures she and Morticia had stirred up back when they were students at Nevermore. But he'd never actually met Morticia face-to-face.
From what little he remembered of the show, Morticia was elegance incarnate: poised, graceful, endlessly devoted to her family. Gomez, on the other hand, was a whirlwind of eccentricity, larger than life, hopelessly romantic, who adored his wife to the point of madness and would move heaven and earth for his family. Overwhelming, sure. But undeniably genuine.
If you could look past their... oddities, the Addams were, in their own bizarre way… a great family.
And in that great family, Wednesday Addams was the most bizarre of them all.
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A/N: I wanna hear your thoughts on this!
Originally, Valen's childhood + festival arcs were supposed to wrap up by chapter 12, and training and origins by 15. But as you can see, things are stretching out more than I expected… and at this rate, the Nevermore admission arc might take longer than planned.
So here's the question: Should I pick up the pace, or keep going at this slower, more detailed style?
And another thing- should I keep the extra arcs I planned (for more worldbuilding + lore), or scrap a few so the story moves faster?
Let me know what you guys think in the comments! It'll help me shape the story better!
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