Chapter 34: Blood Runs Deeper

  Lance stood in the blood-soaked market square, his silver hair catching the crimson light as the last of the Dark Masters' warriors fell. Laughter bubbled up in his throat—a familiar sound, edged with madness, promising beautiful devastation.

  Then, in a shattered shop window, he saw her reflection. His mother, Charlotte.

  "Your laugh was different then," she had once said, tending the herbs in their small garden. "So much like Adrian’s—full of life." Her gentle hands had paused over the moonflowers. "But I see it, my son. The power stirring in you… just like the legends warned."

  "I can resist it," he had offered, young and uncertain. "If you think I should—"

  "No," she had commanded, her silver eyes fierce with a mother’s love. "You must become what you're meant to be. Even if the darkness claims your smile, even if power changes your laugh… promise me you'll protect this world. Like your mother couldn’t."

  Lance’s reflection grinned back at him, maniacal and perfect. He had kept his promise. The Dark Masters had taken his mother, but they had failed to stop what she had seen coming.

  A deeper realization stirred—fragments of another life, another world. Charlotte’s face remained unchanged across realities. The same silver hair cascading past her waist, the same piercing eyes, the same ethereal beauty. Even time had not touched her.

  His elemental markings pulsed as he processed this revelation. How was it possible? If she looked the same in both lives… then what had the Dark Masters truly killed?

  "Interesting," he mused, his grin turning thoughtful. "They thought they knew what they destroyed. But if she existed beyond one world…" His laughter echoed in the ruined square. "Perhaps they should be asking what she really was."

  "Lance?"

  Sara’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. She stood at the edge of the square, carefully stepping between the remnants of battle—blood-stained cobblestones, shattered divine weapons, and places where dungeon beasts had torn reality itself.

  "You’re not afraid," Lance observed, his silver hair settling as he turned to face her. Not a question—an observation.

  "Should I be?" Sara’s voice carried a quiet strength. "My brother just defended our town from a hundred god-touched warriors." She managed a small smile. "Though I think Mrs. Baker will want compensation for her market stall."

  Lance chuckled, the sound both warm and dangerous. "Still worrying about the details? Some things never change."

  "And some things do." Sara reached out, hesitating before tracing the glowing markings on his skin. "I remember when you used to help Mother sort herbs in the garden. Now you command armies of dungeon beasts."

  "The herbs taught me more than you’d think," Lance mused. "Mother always said every plant had its purpose, its place in the greater pattern." His markings pulsed. "Rather like how dungeons connect to form something larger."

  The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

  Sara’s eyes softened. "You’ve been thinking about her."

  "She knew," Lance said quietly, power rippling beneath his skin. "Even before I understood what was inside me, she knew what I would become." His grin sharpened. "The Dark Masters thought they were clever, taking her before she could tell me everything. But they never understood what she truly was."

  "What do you mean?" Sara’s gaze sharpened.

  Lance’s grin shifted, deflecting. "Let’s get you home. This square has seen enough violence for one day."

  They walked through familiar streets, townspeople clearing a path as they passed. The late afternoon sun cast long shadows that flickered and danced around Lance’s footsteps.

  "The garden needs work," Sara said as they approached their childhood home. "Mother’s moonflowers are still fighting to survive, but the herbs..." She trailed off, looking at the overgrown patches where Charlotte had once taught them both the balance of healing and harm.

  "You’ve done what you could," Lance observed. "Between running the apothecary and keeping the town’s healing traditions alive."

  "Someone had to," she replied simply. "After Adrian, and then Mother…" She straightened her shoulders. "But that’s not what you came to discuss, is it?"

  Lance surveyed the garden, his markings pulsing. "The crystal I gave you—keep it close. The dungeons will recognize you, protect you, but only if you have it."

  "You’re expecting more attacks," Sara noted.

  "The Dark Masters won’t stop," Lance said, his grin darkening. "But neither will I. And now you have a path to safety when their war reaches our door."

  "There’s another option," he continued, his tone shifting. "The Blue Moon Clan’s territory. Hope would welcome you."

  "The werewolf clan?" Sara’s hands stilled over a silver petal. "The ones who recognized your power?"

  Lance laughed, low and dangerous. "They did more than recognize it. They swore allegiance." His silver hair shimmered in the evening breeze. "Their territory is becoming a gathering place for those who remember the old ways."

  "And you think I’d be safer there?" Sara asked, carefully considering his words. "Among werewolves and vampires?"

  "Safer than in a town the Dark Masters now know I care about," Lance said. "The Noctus vampires have pledged support. Lord Vex himself ensures the territory’s security." His grin widened. "And my dungeon beasts guard every approach."

  Sara brushed dirt from her hands, standing. "You’re not just offering protection. You want me closer, where you can watch over me yourself."

  "Always so perceptive." Lance chuckled. "The crystal gives you access to my dungeons, but in Blue Moon territory, you’d have an entire clan’s strength around you." He smirked. "Plus, I hear they need someone who understands healing herbs."

  Sara hesitated. "Mother’s teachings… finding new ground?"

  Lance nodded. "She would have appreciated the irony—her garden’s wisdom spreading to supernatural beings."

  Sara’s fingers traced the crystal at her neck. "When would you want me to leave?"

  "Three days," Lance said. "I’ll send an escort. Hope herself will come, along with a contingent of werewolves and Noctus guards." His markings pulsed with satisfaction. "After today’s display, no one would dare interfere."

  "Three days," Sara repeated, already mentally preparing. "I should make arrangements for the apothecary, let Mrs. Wilson know she’ll need to find another healer for her arthritis..."

  Lance laughed, shaking his head. "Always thinking of others."

  "Well, one of us has to," she teased. "You’re busy becoming a king of shadows and ancient powers."

  The last light of day faded, casting long shadows through their mother’s garden. Lance’s markings glowed softly in the darkness, his silver hair catching the remnants of sunlight.

  "I should go," he said, his expression turning serious. "There are preparations to make. The Blue Moon Clan will need guidance before your arrival." He touched the crystal at her neck. "Remember—if anything happens before the escort arrives, use this. The dungeon beasts will protect you."

  Sara caught his hand, holding it for a moment. "Lance… all this power, these beings that serve you now..." She met his gaze. "Are you happy?"

  For just a moment, Lance's grin softened into something almost human. Then he was gone, leaving only stirring shadows and the faint pulse of elemental power in his wake.

  Sara stood in their mother's garden, surrounded by the herbs and flowers that had witnessed their family's transformation. In three days, she would leave this place for a territory of werewolves and vampires, of ancient powers and older truths.

  But for now, she simply breathed in the familiar scent of moonflowers and remembered a time when her greatest worry was keeping her brothers out of the cookie jar.

  How quickly the world changed. How swiftly shadow could become crown.

  As Lance walked away from his childhood home, the Silver Storm King's third eye pulsed with assessment. "MASTER, THE TOWN STILL WATCHES."

  Indeed, faces peered from windows and doorways, watching their transformed neighbor depart. The battle in the market square had shown them what he'd become, but it was his gentle interaction with Sara that seemed to confuse them most.

  "Let them watch," Lance's laugh carried that edge of deadly amusement. "Let them remember that even monsters protect what's theirs."

  Fenris moved closer, shadows writhing around his massive form. "Your sister will be safe in Blue Moon territory. Hope will ensure it."

  "Yes," Lance's silver hair caught starlight as darkness deepened. "But first..." His maniacal grin widened as he considered his next move. "We have an ancient beast to hunt."

  His elemental markings pulsed with renewed purpose. The Dark Masters had tried to strike at him through his hometown, through his family. Now it was time to show them why that was their gravest mistake.

  Three days to arrange Sara's protection. Three days to prepare for what came next.

  The hunt for Kytus, the Blue Flame Cerberus, could wait no longer.