Two small figures stood at the edge of the clearing, each holding a dim oil lamp. The light barely reached the ground, leaving the surrounding forest dark. The lamps highlighted Azule as he performed the ritual dance.
Azule moved through the steps of the ritual exactly as he had been trained. Each movement had meaning, representing oaths, loyalty and the connection between the Asear Tribe and the God of Mount Greyeg. The dance was meant to honor the god and secure the tribe's protection and guidance.
Tonight was the seventh night of the journey toward the walled capital of Xerzuala. Even far from Mount Greyeg, the ritual remained the same.
Azule had been trained for this his entire life. As the future leader of the tribe, he had been taught to perform the ritual as part of his duties. Every step, arm movement and turn was learned through years of repetition of an obligation to the god and to the tribe's traditions. The dance itself lasted hours, a continuous series of steps and gestures that symbolized the tribe's loyalty and the weight of Azule's role as heir.
His younger siblings watched from the edge of the clearing. They had been curious since childhood, and they always followed his nightly ritual. The two troublemakers had followed him every night, slipping out of their bedrolls to trail along behind him like silent ghosts, lamps wobbling in their hands. They had followed him since they were old enough to walk, sneaking after him to every dusk ritual until Azule simply stopped trying to forbid it.
He lowered into the final stance, palm pressed flat to the earth. The flame in the nearest lamp flickered, bending toward him as if pulled by an unseen tide.
His siblings whispered to each other, too loudly to actually count as whispering.
"Do you think he ever gets tired?"
"No. He's Azule. He's supposed to do this forever."
Azule rose and wiped a sheen of sweat from his brow and glanced toward the distant silhouette of the capital walls.
Only seven nights behind them.
Only countless more responsibilities ahead.
Azule straightened and stepped back from the final position. The movement that closed the ritual left the clearing quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of leaves. He gestured toward the twins.
"Back to the carriages," he said. His voice was serious without warmth or softness, carrying authority more than affection of an older brother. Frida and Arida nodded and began walking, lamps held steadily, following the trail back through the trees. Azule waited until they were a few steps ahead, then followed behind.
The twins walked close enough to touch, shoulders brushing, but kept a space between themselves and Azule. The Asears were taught that emotions could interfere with service to the gods. They learned to remove desire, fear and attachment, but not to the point of ignoring each other. Still, there was a care in the way they walked together, a small connection between them despite the control demanded by their upbringing.
"Will you keep dancing after you get married?" Frida asked, her voice soft, careful.
Azule did not answer immediately. He kept his gaze on the dim glow of the carriages ahead. He knew about the queen's plan and the deal. He knew the marriage was meant to secure their tribe's alliance. His future would no longer belong entirely to the tribe, to the God or even to his family. Parts of it would belong to someone else.
"Maybe," he said finally. "Some rituals never end."
Arida looked down at her lamp, frowning slightly. They had known this day was coming, but knowing had done nothing to lessen the quiet ache of it. Azule, their brother, their protector, would be taken to the capital. He would live there and the nightly rituals would continue without them watching.
Frida slowed her steps, glancing back at Azule. "Will you be coming back every night?" she asked.
Azule kept walking, matching his pace to theirs. "I will return when duty allows," he said.
The answer was neither promise nor refusal. It was the closest he could come to reassurance.
"Will you remember us?" Arida's lamp wavered. She reached for his sleeve, not to stop him but only to touch.
Azule paused a fraction of a second, enough that they noticed. He did not turn his head, but his hand moved to rest briefly over hers before he let it go.
"Always," he said simply.
"What if they make you stay in the capital forever?"
"Then I will do what is required," he replied. He did not dwell on what might happen and yet the statement was enough to show the twins that he understood the question.
"Will someone replace you to dance?" Arida tugged gently at his sleeve again.
"Maybe."
Frida's eyes were wide. She did not speak, but her shoulders pressed lightly against him as they walked. Arida's fingers lingered on his sleeve for another step or two before falling back to her side. Both of them clung quietly, holding on not to stop him, but to hold a small piece of the brother who would soon be taken.
They washed their feet first before finally deciding to sleep. By midday, the high walls of Levav rose into view. The twins crowded the carriage window the moment they realized the road had shifted from forest to smooth paved streets.
Frida pressed her face so close her breath fogged the glass. "There are so many," she whispered.
Arida nudged her aside, equally shameless.
Vampires passed by in the streets, cloaked in dark fabrics and carrying parasols. The twins had grown up seeing only their own tribe, only the snowy cliffs and quiet rituals of Mount Greyeg. This was the first time they saw other vampires living outside the frozen slopes, laughing, bargaining, arguing, moving like they weren't afraid of anything. They weren't even able to see the vampires of the villages they passed by days before because Azule shut the curtains close tighty.
A child selling fruit stared at the carriage, fascinated by the tribal markings on the twins' wrists. Arida stared right back, awe written plainly on her face. Frida copied her, almost pressing her whole upper body through the window.
"Do not lean out," Azule reached out without looking and pulled both of them back by the scruffs of their clothes.
They nodded then went right back to staring the second he released them. Azule just sighed, staring outside the window too without a thought. Of course, a city was much lively than where they live. Not only there's less vampires, the climate and wonders of Mount Greyeg also prevents them to stay outside of their houses for so long.
The carriage rolled closer to the city gates, the high walls rising on either side. Beyond the gates, the road widened into a courtyard lined with soldiers standing at attention. The twins leaned forward, their eyes following the orderly rows of men in dark uniforms, their hands gripping the edge of the window.
Another set of gates appeared ahead, lower than the first, and the carriages passed through without pause. The horses' hooves clicked against the cobblestones, echoing off the walls. The carriages slowed as they approached the palace itself, the final set of gates opening to reveal a wide courtyard stretching before the throne hall.
Azule's parents stepped out first from the front carriage, his father helping his wife down.
Azule climbed out of the second carriage with the twins at his heels. The twins spilled out right behind him like excited forest spirits escaping captivity. Arida hopped to the ground with both feet at once, nearly tripping on her own enthusiasm. Frida immediately grabbed Azule's sleeve and yanked him around so she could point at everything in sight.
Azule grabbed their hands before they could sprint toward the nearest fountain. "Do not touch anything," Azule muttered without looking at them, though he gently pulled the two close.
They nodded.
Ahead of them, their parents reached the royal pair at the base of the palace steps. Azule nudged the twins into motion, guiding them forward.
Servants lined the walkway, bowing in perfect unison as Azule's parents approached the King and Queen. The twins' heads bobbed between them, shamelessly gawking like they were in a marketplace instead of the heart of a kingdom.
King Atticus descended the stairs, his expression softened by wry amusement. Beside him, Queen Leticia smiled warmly, her ivory hair making the twins look at each other.
"Welcome to Levav," Leticia spoke warmly and they bowed which Azule's parents returned too. "We trust the journey wasn't too taxing. We apologize that our children aren't present to greet you."
Azule stood just behind his mother, keeping the twins loosely leashed by their sleeves as they craned to stare at a guard's armor.
King Atticus sighed. "Celebration brings out their enthusiasm."
Frida piped up before Azule could clamp a hand over her mouth. "Celebration?"
Leticia smiled, patient as a saint. "Tonight is the third red full moon. Theres festivals across every province and cities."
Arida's eyes went wide. "All your kids are at that festival?"
Atticus let out a dry, tired laugh. "All thirteen of them."
Frida leaned toward her twin and whispered loudly, "Thirteen princes and princesses. Do they eat like goats? How do they even feed them all?"
Azule's fingers snapped to her shoulder with the speed of someone who had years of practice. A firm squeeze of silent threat. Frida froze mid-breath, muttering nothing but regret.
The King pretended not to hear.
His father, Heron cleared his throat, a subtle signal for his children to behave or be disowned on the spot. "We are grateful for your welcome. The Asears are honored to stand before you and honored by the alliance that awaits our families."
"We are equally honored. Your tribe has long protected Mount Greyeg. Xerzuala owes much to your vigilance."
Azule's mother, Sareth, stepped forward beside Heron with a softer smile. "We thank you for receiving us despite the festivities. The roads were kind to us; the gods favored this journey."
"Then they bless this union as well." Leticia's expression warmed. "You will meet my children hopefully soon though, I suspect some may be harder to keep track of than others."
A twitch at the edge of Atticus's mouth made it very clear which one she meant.
But Azule interpreted it differently. He will soon meet his partner in the future.
Heron gave a polite nod. "We look forward to meeting them all."
Behind him, Frida mouthed thirteen again as if still trying to do the math.
Servants glided forward, bowing as they gestured toward the throne hall upfront.
Arida and Frida pressed close to Azule, each grabbing one sleeve like he was their personal anchor in a sea of overwhelming luxury.
They moved smoothly across the courtyard, the royal couple guiding Heron and Sareth toward the towering doors of the throne hall. The conversation turned too diplomatic for the twin's attention span.
Azule remained a step behind, hands holding the scuffs of both twins like he was holding two badly behaved wolves on leashes.
Arida tried to tilt her head back far enough to see the ceiling carvings on the hall exterior. Frida attempted to count the guards in formation. Azule tugged them both into a straight line every three breaths.
"Do we get to sit there?" she whispered, pointing at the thrones once they entered.
"No."
"Do we get to drink that?" Frida pointed at the wine.
"No."
"Do we get to—"
"No."
Azule tightened his grip on their wrist.
Ahead of them, their parents walked with the King and Queen. Sareth kept pace beside Queen Leticia, speaking softly about travel routes and the weather near the mountain while his father walked beside King Atticus, discussing what to eat.
The royal couple listened with interest. Every so often, Atticus's mouth would twitch in amusement at something Heron said, while Leticia's eyes softened at Sareth's observations about palace architecture. Azule could see that they were getting along very well.
Azule forced the twins to fall into a neat pace as servants approached, gesturing toward the tables prepared for the receiving ceremony.
"Please be seated," a steward said. "Food will be brought shortly."
Heron and Sareth took the places of honor closest to the king and queen. Azule was meant to sit nearby, representing the heir of the Asear.
He attempted to make the twins settle on their seats. Azule sat last, already tired of being a single father.
The moment they were seated, Frida leaned forward on the table. "Does the throne hall always smell like cherries?"
Azule held both their shoulders down before they could crawl across the table to investigate the nearest centerpiece of crystal flowers.
Across the table, King Atticus watched with barely concealed amusement.
Queen Leticia took a sip of wine, eyes gliding to the twins with passing delight. "They remind me of my own when they were small," she murmured. "All knees, elbows and disaster."
Heron offered an apologetic laugh. "They are disciplined at home."
"They are perceptive children. Curious. The capital is overwhelming for them." Sareth added.
Atticus leaned back slightly. "They will fit right in, I think. Xerzuala is full of curious disasters."
Frida blinked. "Is that why you have so many kids?"
"Do not speak," Azule whispered to them and shot them a warning gaze.
The twins clamped their mouths shut but continued staring at the king and queen like they were staring at mythical creatures.
Heron cleared his throat again, redirecting attention. "Your Majesties, we understand the festivities may delay the formal introductions. We do not mind waiting."
Leticia smiled politely. "Once the celebration winds down, our children will return. You will meet all the princes and princesses soon."
Her gaze flicked meaningfully toward Azule.
Azule's spine went rigid.
Servants moved quietly down the long table, filling goblets with deep red blood and arranging dishes of rare meats, spiced fruits and delicacies prepared to appeal to the noble palate. Only those of wealth and status consumed such food; poorer vampires sustained themselves on standard fare.
Queen Leticia inclined her head. "Please enjoy. These dishes are specialties of the capital. Preparation takes weeks. We wanted your family to experience Xerzuala at its height."
Heron and Sareth exchanged nods, beginning to taste the dishes, noting texture, scent and seasoning. Heron sampled a thinly roasted cut of crimson-flecked meat, while Sareth raised a glass of thick, dark blood to her lips. Their attention partly on the food, partly on the conversation with the King and Queen. Atticus gestured toward a dish of glazed venison, describing its preparation and the origin of the spices.
The conversation between the adults while Azule ate in silence, quietly listening to their conversation. He has no interest in appealing to the royals. He's not even agreed to their mountain being part of their kingdom. But because they were only a mere tribe, they can't fight back.
He have spent a week fasting and praying nonstop, asking for a sign and protection. When his prayers went unanswered, he took it as a sign that maybe it would be better to just be part of Xerzuala.
A steward appeared at the far end of the hall. In a calm voice, he announced, "Entertainers are ready to perform."
Queen Leticia gestured toward pairs of masked figures entering from the side corridors. The performers wore colorful robes trimmed with metallic threads, some were holding fans and some were holding blades. They were also accompanied by musicians holding stringed instruments and drums. Azule's eyes flickered up, his interest piqued.
"These are the capital's most skilled masked performers," the Queen boasted. "They have trained months for tonight's festival. We are proud to present them."
The music began, the crisp pluck of stringed instrument and the deep roll of drums filled the hall. The dancers moved onto the polished hall floor, the swords and fans in their hands catching the light.
The warriors stepped forward first, swords angled across their shoulders, then arced downward in wide, swinging motions. Their feet followed, sliding and pivoting across the surface. The ladies mirrored them in opposition, fans opening and closing with smooth arcs, lifting over their heads and sweeping low to the floor.
A warrior lunged forward; the lady bent backward, her fan sweeping past his chest. He stepped back, circle around, sword tracing a line through the space between them. She spun on one foot, fan flicking outward as she shifted forward again, meeting him with another set of sweeping movements.
They moved across the hall in alternating patterns of advance, retreat, cross and step aside. The fans and swords created a shifting lattice of air and shadow, a rhythm without faltering.
The dance climaxed as the two sets of dancers closed together. The warriors lowered to one knee, swords held vertically before them, points pressed lightly to the floor. The ladies brought their fans down, edges grazing the ground in line with the warriors' blades. The group froze in this final formation, swords and fans parallel, kneeling before one another.
a wave of applause rose from the adults. The elders clapped with crisp hands, murmurs of approval spreading through them.
Not bad... Azule thought to himself.
Then, one of the male performers with sword still in hand reached up and removed his mask. His face was bright, grinning ear to ear, a wide unapologetic smile. The applause faltered. The King and Queen's expressions shifted from mild surprise The King and Queen's eyes widened for a moment.
Without another word, the man darted toward the doors at the far end of the hall, weaving past startled servants and noble guests, vanishing almost as quickly as he had appeared.
Sareth glanced toward the vanished performer, curiosity brightening her expression. "Who was that?"
Leticia's lips curved into a soft, apologetic smile. "That is my son. He test patience more than others.," she said, inclining her head slightly, a gesture carrying both pride and a hint of helplessness.