In the thundering night of the Aktrian Ocean, a boat could be seen amidst the raging waves, overrun by otherworldly creatures.
A man who seemed to be a soldier, with an intricate insignia on his chest, rushed towards the captain's sail. "Sir Afriel, the demons seem to have followed our trail — they'll be here any moment." The soldier pointed east to the monsters swimming towards the ship.
Afriel was tall, having muscles that pressed against his intricate black armor. The man had long and slightly curly hair with a face that could have caught stares even in a storm.
Afriel looked at the horde of monsters approaching and readied his sword. "Alarm the others to brace their weapons."
"Yes, my liege." The soldier knelt and hurriedly went to alert the others on the ship.
Afriel sighed in annoyance. "I suppose I won't see my newborn child just yet. Why must he have been born today of all days..." he murmured to himself.
Before Afriel had a chance to fully finish his thoughts, a silhouette appeared behind him — a figure covered in scales across its body.
Afriel didn't need to turn to sense the beast. "Well, it doesn't seem you're one of my soldiers." A blur followed the man's words. All that could be seen next was the monster's head rolling off its body.
"They must be aboard the lower decks already." The man walked across the hull as monsters poured around him — many were struck down before they could even react. He danced around them beautifully, granting each one the kiss of death.
The hull was covered with the blood of creatures, being washed away by the rain. The man turned toward the lower deck, his face filling with panic as he heard a blood-curdling scream — not from a man or woman, but from a baby.
"Curses."
The man rushed into the lower decks, his once calm demeanor replaced with panic and urgency.
He barged into one of the rooms of the ship. "Ezra!" He kept opening the ship's doors — some had soldiers already dead, others had monsters feeding on the soldiers' corpses.
Hearing the screams again he ran toward them and barged through the door the sound came from. The room was painted in blood. Corpses of abominations lay on the wooden floorboards and the stench of blood permeated every corner. A mother, covered in blood both hers and theirs, sat cradling her child.
The man rushed to them. "Ezra, my love." He carried the woman in his arms — she had flawless skin even in a weakened state, with blue eyes and black hair.
"Afriel," the woman murmured weakly. She turned to the man and put her hand against his cheek, caressing it. "Look — it's a boy." She chuckled weakly, coughing out blood.
The man held her tighter and put his hand on her face, trying to reassure her. "Save your energy, Ezra. Do not speak. We are almost upon shore — I can get you help."
The woman smiled and gently held his hand. "I'm afraid you're too late," she whispered. "I had to use my quality to protect the boy." Blood dripped from her mouth. "I have nothing left, Afriel." Her hand grew weaker.
"No — Ezra!"
The woman smiled. "Take care of our child." She chuckled softly. "I suppose you did get to name him after all." Her arm grew limp as the color faded from her eyes.
The man held the crying newborn and laid his wife down gently. A tear fell from Afriel's face before he stood and kissed his wife's head one last time. "Farewell, my love." He carried the newborn back to the hull.
The night was still storming though the water had gone still. Afriel looked at his newborn with sorrow. "I'm sorry, young one. The night is not yet over." He found a barrel and placed the newborn carefully inside. "I'll be back shortly, little one."
He walked to the edge of the ship's rail and looked out at the still ocean, addressing something that lurked beneath it.
"Reveal yourself, ancient one."
Silence.
Then a laugh — somewhere across the sea, growing louder and louder. Afriel looked around frantically, searching for the source.
A playful yet condemning voice filled the air. "Do you wish for your child to die, mortal?"
Afriel gripped his sword, anger washing over his face. He tried to speak — but no sound came out, as though an undeniable pressure had been placed upon him.
The voice came again. "Ah, I do apologize. I do not let anger speak in my presence." The entity paused before continuing. "I did not mean to insult you. I mean to offer help to the offspring."
Afriel's anger subsided, and his voice returned.
"What is it that you seek, creature?"
"A deal," the playful voice said.
"A deal?" Afriel said with a contemptuous tone. "What kind of deal?"
"It is simple. A life for a life — that is the only way. I can save your son. For one so young, he has been exposed to far too much mana."
Afriel looked at the barrel, then back in the direction he believed the voice was coming from.
"My life for his — is that what you are suggesting?"
"Yes," the entity said simply.
Afriel walked toward the barrel, then stopped midway. He looked up.
"How can I trust you, creature?"
A low chuckle. "I could have killed you already. You have no choice but to trust." The entity paused, then spoke again in its playful tone. "I, Xul'gek, shall ensure strength and safety for your offspring for as long as I am within reach."
Afriel nodded, satisfied with the promise. He lifted the newborn carefully from the barrel. He slashed his own palm with his sword — blood dripped from the wound — and began to write on the boy's chest.
Ivel.
He then traced intangible runes across the boy's skin.
When he was finished he looked up and addressed the entity.
"I accept your deal, Xul'gek."
The playful voice returned, satisfied. "Very well. Raise your hands and state your name."
Afriel raised his hands. "I am Afriel of Veil."
In the next moment the strength was drawn from him — pulled outward in luminous blue particles that drifted through the air in a slow and beautiful current before settling onto the newborn. The child let out a strong, hearty cry as though revitalized.
The entity's presence lifted entirely.
With the last ounce of his strength Afriel crawled to his son's side. The sun was rising at the edge of the horizon and he caught a glimpse of it — the first light breaking across the water in long quiet lines.
He smiled.
"Ivel," he said, with his last breath. "Carry the name of the house of Veil."
The color left his eyes.
Afriel of Veil was gone.