Flashback – Kadir’s Library.

  The library’s atmosphere was thick with the scent of parchment, old ink, and burning incense. Shadows danced along the tall wooden shelves, their movements dictated by the flickering candlelight. It was a place of knowledge, a sanctuary built upon centuries of collected wisdom, yet tonight it was disturbed by the presence of something unnatural.

  The heavy oak doors groaned as they opened. The sound was almost reluctant, as if the library itself hesitated to let the intruder inside.

  "Good evening, Grandmaster."

  The voice was smooth, laced with the kind of amusement that only came from someone who had seen too much and lived too long.

  Kadir did not immediately look up from the tome he had been reading. His fingers tapped lightly against the book’s spine before he exhaled through his nose.

  "I trust you have been well," Elijah continued, stepping further into the dimly lit space. "It seems time has been good to you. You have aged well since we last saw each other 300 years ago."

  At this, Kadir let out a dry chuckle. Finally, he shut the book with a dull thud and met the vampire’s gaze.

  "Unlike you bloodsuckers, some of us do actually feel the passage of time," he said. "And growing old has been a pain." His tone was as sharp as ever, unsoftened by age. "Now, cut the crap. Why are you here?"

  Elijah smiled, his posture relaxed but purposeful. The firelight glowed against his black suit, immaculate in its tailoring. There was not a single wrinkle on its surface, nor a hair out of place on his head. His crimson eyes, gleaming like polished rubies, carried a quiet hunger beneath their amusement.

  "Aren’t you at least going to offer me a seat?" He gestured to the chair opposite Kadir’s. "We have much to discuss. Most especially, your recent addition to the group."

  Kadir scoffed. His dark eyes narrowed, cutting through Elijah’s feigned politeness.

  "Don’t push it, self-acclaimed King of the City. Your money may flow in this place, but let me remind you that it’s not yours."

  Elijah chuckled, stepping forward as he traced a gloved hand along the edge of a nearby table, letting his fingers graze against the ancient wood.

  "Ah, but influence often outweighs ownership, does it not?" His voice was smooth, his words carefully measured. "Knowledge, power, resources… all things that can be bought, borrowed, or taken."

  Kadir leaned back in his chair, unimpressed.

  "Spare me the poetic nonsense. You’re here because of the boy, aren’t you?"

  The smile on Elijah’s lips remained, but his gaze darkened slightly.

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  "A Daywalker who can wield Flux." He let the words settle between them like an unspoken threat. "An impossibility. And yet, here we are."

  Kadir studied him for a long moment before exhaling.

  "You see a disruption. I see a problem that needs guidance."

  Elijah tilted his head slightly, watching the old man with interest.

  "And yet, you’ve allowed him to train under Argent Sword. That doesn’t seem like mere guidance to me."

  Kadir’s fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair.

  "What would you have me do? Let him flounder in ignorance, unchecked? Power without control is a far greater risk than power honed."

  Elijah’s smirk lingered, but his voice dropped into something quieter, something more deliberate.

  "Perhaps. But honed for what?"

  Silence stretched between them.

  Then, with a sigh, Elijah took a step closer.

  "Let me tell you what concerns me, Kadir." His voice carried the weight of a man who had lived through too many betrayals. "We assume Conrad represents the Sanguin Antiquus. But no records of a Conrad Williams exist within their inner circle. The Antiquus have always been careful, secretive, their members using aliases to operate in the mortal world. But Conrad?" Elijah’s gaze sharpened. "His name appears nowhere. Not even in the whispers of the old families."

  Kadir’s expression did not shift, but his fingers stilled.

  Elijah continued, stepping into the firelight. "Either he is a ghost—a fabrication designed to mislead—or he is something worse."

  Kadir exhaled. "So we sit on our hands out of fear of the unknown?"

  Elijah chuckled softly.

  "No, Grandmaster. We watch. We wait. We gather what little truths we can before making a move we cannot take back."

  The words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken consequences.

  Then, after a long silence, Elijah spoke again.

  "Tell me, Kadir… have you ever heard the name Hezekiah?"

  A subtle twitch. A flicker of something behind Kadir’s eyes, gone as quickly as it appeared.

  Elijah smiled.

  "Ah… so you do remember."

  Kadir exhaled, shaking his head slightly. "Hezekiah has been dead for a long time."

  Elijah’s red eyes gleamed in the candlelight.

  "Has he?"

  Kadir’s jaw tensed.

  Elijah took a slow step closer.

  "One thousand years ago, there was another Daywalker. He did not wield Flux, but he was a force that haunted the Sanguin Antiquus for centuries. A nightmare they could not control. He belonged to no bloodline, owed loyalty to no family. He was a relic of something older… something unpredictable."

  Kadir remained silent.

  "And now, a millennium later, another appears. But this time, one who can wield Flux. What do you think the Antiquus will do when they realize history is repeating itself?"

  Kadir’s gaze darkened.

  "You always did have a talent for making patterns out of shadows."

  Elijah smirked. "And yet, you can’t deny the similarity."

  Kadir inhaled deeply before asking, "What is it you truly want, Elijah?"

  Elijah spread his arms slightly. "To understand the board before I make my move."

  Kadir narrowed his eyes. "And Kyon? What is he to you?"

  Elijah was silent for a moment. Then, in a tone quieter than before, he said:

  "A curiosity. A potential. A threat."

  Kadir watched him carefully.

  "And if he becomes more than that?"

  Elijah’s smirk remained, but his gaze drifted toward the flickering candlelight.

  "Then we will see if history repeats itself… or if it breaks."

  Kadir exhaled, rubbing his temple. The weight of unanswered questions pressed against the silence between them.

  Elijah turned slightly, his crimson eyes gleaming as he glanced back toward the door.

  "Tell me, Kadir… do you ever wonder why Hezekiah never sired another?"

  Kadir’s fingers stilled.

  Elijah smiled, slow and knowing.

  "Something to think about, Grandmaster."

  Without another word, Elijah’s posture straightened, and in the span of a heartbeat, he was gone. His figure blurred like a shadow under the flickering candlelight, vanishing from Kadir’s sight in an instant. One moment he stood before the Grandmaster, calm and composed; the next, only the faintest disturbance in the air remained. No doors opened. No sound of footsteps. He had left, as quickly as he had arrived—his departure a mere whisper of wind, leaving behind nothing but an dead silence.