The Dread of Damned

“Wake up, my love. It’s time,” I heard a gentle voice breaking through my slumber.

I opened my eyes and saw Mother standing beside the bed, looking at me. It seemed I had fallen asleep after being left alone. I sat up, stretching a bit, then followed her into the washroom, where she washed me. I emerged feeling refreshed.

I wore a formal white suit adorned with graceful patterns. This was the first time I had dressed up since coming into this world. Mother wore a formal knee-length white dress with a V-neck and half sleeves, also decorated with intricate designs. She looked both graceful and commanding, exuding an aura of authority and power.

“Let’s be on our way,” she said.

We walked side by side as she led the way. After walking for a while, we entered a grand hall.

I had passed by this hall before, but it was my first time inside. It was dome-shaped, appearing to be the topmost part of the castle, with a complete glass ceiling. The circular walls were divided into equal sections of pure white marble adorned with intricate designs, alternating with floor-to-ceiling glass windows also patterned in white, connecting seamlessly with the wall decorations.

Around fifty people were present in the hall, a few with the muddy white hair I had seen before—relatives, although not of pure blood.

I walked toward the raised platform of white marble as they bowed. My father and sister were already on the platform, both dressed in formal attire. Mother and I joined them, forming a group of four: a young boy appearing to be around seven, a girl looking about seventeen, a burly man, and a graceful woman, all surrounded by people bowing their heads.

Then Father stepped forward.

“You must all be aware of why we have gathered here today,” he addressed the crowd. Everyone listened intently, and I could sense fear in the air.

“Today, we have two reasons to celebrate. First, my daughter, your princess, has successfully awakened her mystic abilities. Secondly, my son has reached the age to undergo his feeding ceremony,” he continued. No one dared to make a sound as he spoke.

“Congratulations, Your Majesty and Your Highness.”

“Congratulations, Your Highness, the Prince and Princess.”

Chants echoed throughout the hall. Then, Father lifted his hand, and silence fell again.

“First, we will conduct the ceremony for your prince, and afterward, there will be a feast in honor of your princess,” he said before stepping back to his position.

Rowena then walked up to the platform.

“Now, I will explain what we will be doing in this ceremony. First, as we all know, our bodies contain not only red blood, like humans, but also something called heart blood.” She paused, letting her words sink in. I had heard about this before in my lessons with Vaelan, though not in detail, so I listened intently.

“The purity of one’s heart blood determines their potential power, as well as how easily and efficiently they can use moon essence. For the feeding ceremony, each family member of the one being celebrated will draw their heart blood.” She paused again, glancing at me.

“The child will then drink the heart blood, guiding it through his body. The primary goal is to bring the blood to the heart, thereby initiating the production of his own heart blood.”

“Now, your role in this ceremony is to channel the moon essence you have stored into the child, so he can absorb it the moment his heart begins pumping. The more essence he absorbs, the greater his aptitude for moon essence will be. The purity of this essence will determine the strength of his awakening in the future.”

“If everyone understands their roles, let us begin on this night, when the moon shines upon us in all its glory.” She turned and walked to a table, picking up a glass cup and a glass knife.

She approached my mother, who took the knife and made a slit in her wrist. White blood flowed into the cup while her wound healed visibly before our eyes. My father and sister then repeated the process, filling the cup.

Rowena brought the cup to me, offering it with a small bow. I took it from her and examined the liquid—mostly white, with faint traces of red. The moon shone through the glass ceiling, bathing the hall in silver light, as if it too was impatient for the ritual to proceed.

With steady hands, I brought the cup to my lips.