Amit the First (complete)

    As I step out of the catacombs and into the light of day. I stare out over what has become the Rakshasa Country. When I was young, the Rakshasa lived in tribes scattered all around. From what I see now, everyone is living together. The palace I had built still stands and has grown into a magnificent and mighty fortress. 

    It has been ages since I first saw my country and I am overwhelmed by the beauty of it. Since I sealed myself away, my bloodline has continued the tradition I began. The Rakshasa Country has become a dominant force in the world. Not only that, but my own blood, Dhaval, has become the ruler of all the empire. Once, ages ago, someone I had thought I loved tried to accomplish the same thing. Unfortunately, her methods are being mimicked by another.

    “You’re quiet,” Dhaval says to me.

    I sigh and lift my head. “What is there to be said?” My voice is a low rumble. “Everything I ever dreamed has come true and more.” I brace my hands on the stone banister and look out over all of Rakshasa. “I am sure it did not all come through peace, but I can sense a calm here that I never knew when I was young like you.”

    “It has taken many decades to accomplish this,” Dhaval murmurs. “For the longest time, all that the Rakshasa were known for was their military power. But thanks to my parents, the Rakshasa Country has become a place admired by many.”

    “I’m glad,” I whisper. “I am glad her hand has not touched this place. I now know what I did was right.”

    Dhaval looks up at me with caution. “You mean Balafelamona?”

    I grow silent and stare out over the horizon. I narrow my eyes then turn my head away from the sight of my country. Looking down at Dhaval, I am stunned by how much he resembles my son, Vihaan.

    “Please,” I answer with a shaky voice. “I would like to know where Vihaan is buried.”

    Dhaval’s eyes widen slightly then he nods. “Yes, of course.” He leads me back down into the catacombs and into a section that is wide open with a window in the ceiling, probably the only natural light in the catacombs. All around, there are sealed doors with names engraved about the golden placards. The floor is covered by opal tiles that shimmer and glow in the fading light of evening.

    “Here.” Dhaval places his paw on one of the placards.

    The engraving had faded slightly, but I see my child’s name there. I smooth my paw over it and take in a deep breath.

    “He was so young when I sealed myself away.” I feel my heart shatter and dissolve as I run my thumb over the dates. “Just a young boy.”

    “He had a son he named after you, Amit the Second.” Dhaval moved to the next engraving. “Then two daughters, Lalit, who died in war, and Pari, who died of old age.”

    I look around the entire room, staring at all the gold plates. “All these names,” I whisper. “Are they all mine?”

    “Wives and husbands are here too, but this is your bloodline,” Dhaval tells me. “Amit is a name given to first-born sons, in hopes they will honor your memory and the history of the Rakshasa.”

    “Then why are you not named Amit?” I turn and smile at him. “Did your parents go against tradition?”

    Dhaval bows his head and folds his arms behind his back. “My mother thought I deserved my own legacy. She said that she had enough trouble dealing with one Amit.”

    I smile at my son’s nameplate. “She sounds like an intelligent woman. Are you married, my Dhaval?”

    Dhaval falls silent and I can feel a pain radiating off of him. It had been there all day, but at this moment, it is intense and palpable. I breathe in and his feelings become a mist on my tongue. “Dhaval, my son.” I put my hand on his shoulder and tears wash down his face.

    His bright eyes look up at me and his tears begin to float in the air around us. They glow like opals in the dim light of the crypt. “Mila,” he whispers.

    His tears rise up around me and, inside them, I see the woman. She is short and shapely, and her skin is mottled and patched like a quilt. Her eyes are mismatched and her long white hair is styled neatly.

    “She’s a secret,” I murmur as I take an opal from the air.

    “Yes,” Dhaval’s breath shudders. “And she is in trouble right now.”

    The crypt is glowing and the nameplates all shimmer in a dazzling light. I put my hand over Dhaval’s head and the lights dim down. His tears fall to the ground, clattering and rolling about the opal floor. 

    “This Sanguis Rex is causing more trouble than he realizes.” I murmur.

    Dhaval seems shocked for a moment. He looks around and catches his breath. He doesn’t realize my influence has caused him to spill the truth to me. He holds his head between his hands. 

    Dhaval strains for a moment before he speaks again. “He also has my friend, Emmeline. She’s the empress of Culuweth.”

    “Culuweth?” I gasp. “The Rakshasa have befriended those awful Gnolls?”

“Yes,” Dhaval straightens his back. “They’re good allies and Emmeline is a strong ruler. The fact she and Mila have both been kidnapped only shows what Sanguis’ desires are.” His tail shakes behind him, much like Vihaan’s used to. “The Polar would make a powerful ally for him, so would Culuweth and their resources.”

    “The fact he is using Balafelamona’s own words is troubling.” I sit down in the center of the crypt. “I don’t know how that book escaped me. Perhaps I didn’t trust the right people to seal up my tomb.” I sigh and fold my legs. I then clasp my hands together. “I never wanted her history out in the world. I wanted to erase her.”

    “How did you do it?” Dhaval kneels before me. “Whatever you did, maybe we can use the same techniques against Sanguis.”

I grimace, feeling the weight of my actions heavy upon me. “In order to defeat someone gifted in blood magic, you must use their own blood against them.”

Dhaval furrows his brow, “Oh no-” he whispers.

“I used my Vihaan,” I speak low and ashamed. “He was only sixteen and he was-” My voice shakes and my throat feels tight. “His blood was all I had and I nearly-”

“No,” Dhaval whispers. “I couldn’t do such a thing. There must be some other way. There must be something.”

I am silent for a long time as I pray to Vihaan for forgiveness. I then look at Dhaval and see so much of my child in him. “Balafelamona came by blood magic naturally. It was a gift she was born with. Vihaan had it too, but-” I frown deeply. “He didn’t practice and he vowed to keep this ability hidden. I suspect it is a gift our family carries.”

Dhaval takes in deep, shaky breaths. “No,” he says again. “If I do have such powers, I will not use them. I refuse! I had seen what that monster has done.” He snarls. “I have seen the horrors he has committed. He massacred Bastat! He created an entire army of Bloodborne and he-” he steadies himself as he begins to shake.

“Bastat,” I whisper. “Why would he attack the oasis? It serves nothing. Even Bala ignored it.”

“He did it as a show,” Dhaval growls. “A gross representation of his power. He wanted to hurt us. He took my baby cousin along with his own daughter by force.” Dhaval breaks down and places his forehead to the floor. “And now he has my Mila! My wife!”

“I see.” I place my hand on the back of his head. “I am sorry, my son.”

“I don’t know what to do,” Dhaval sobs. “And everything is on me! This is my responsibility now. All of the Empire is counting on me to stop him.”

“The crown is always heavy,” I reply. “Sometimes it feels like it can break your neck.” I pick him up and wipe away his tears. “I understand your resistance to using the same powers that have given Sanguis his advantage, but the only thing that can put a dent in his armor is the gift that Balafelamona has left you.” I squeeze his shoulders tight. “Blood magic isn’t evil, it is all in how it is used. Yes, Bala and this Sanguis have been using it in such a way to cause fear and pain. But back in the old days, those who used Blood Magic were healers. That is how Bala started.” 

I take Dhaval back to my crypt, where I take out the scrolls and show him the histories. “Those who were born with Blood Magic were seen as gods on earth. They were healers who could take the pain and suffering of others. They cured illness, removed blights, and used their powers for good. But like most gifts, some people found ways to use it to their advantage. Soon, those who used Blood Magic were seen as evil. I’m afraid that Bala’s good intentions soon turned to self-preservation and revenge.” I hand the scroll to Dhaval. “I fear my son may have taken his own prejudice and wiped out those who could use Blood Magic.”

“How do I know-” Dhaval’s voice trembles. He stops and gulps down a breath. “How do I know if I have it?” He asks. “My brothers and sisters...could they have it?”

“It is possible,” I nod. “Anyone in the Bloodline of Amit could possess the gift. You should pray that as many as possible have it. That way you can all stand against Sanguis.”

Dhaval closes his eyes and he shakes his head. “Only I should bear that burden. I don’t want any of my siblings to have to carry that with them.”

“And why is that?” I ask.

“The responsibility is on my head. The crown and the broken neck are mine alone.” Dhaval looks up at me with a determined look. “What did Vihaan say when he knew he would be used against his own mother?”

I close my eyes. “He told me that a king is not greater than a kingdom.” Tear rolls down my face. “He was a wise boy, to say the least.”

“My family is part of my kingdom,” Dhaval replies. “If that means sacrificing myself for their own safety, it’s a risk that I’d happily take.” He kneels before me again. “Now tell me, how do I find out if I am born with Blood Magic?”

“Not here,” I whisper. “Follow me.”

I take him back up to the palace. “It is not something you can do on yourself. You have to find someone else to test it on.”

“What?” Dhaval snaps. 

“Who do you trust most here?” I ask him, ignoring his apparent complaints. 

Dhaval hesitates. “I guess my brother.”

“Then where is he?” I look back at him. 

Dhaval frowns but leads me down the halls. We go to a room that’s closed and Dhaval knocks on the door. 

The door creaks open and another young, white tiger peeks out. “There you are! I was growing worried. What has been keeping you-” His eyes flash up to me and his mouth gapes open. He steps outside the door and looks up at me in shock. “Dad?”

“No, Himank,” Dhaval replies. “This is Amit the First.”

“So this is what they were talking about.” Himank’s eyes go from me to his brother. “What’s going on?”

“I need your help,” Dhaval replies. “And I need you to keep this a secret.”

We then go downstairs, where Himank has a hospital set up in the palace. There, I explain the test to them. Taking a knife, Himank willingly cuts himself on the palm. He holds up his wounded hand and Dhaval concentrates. I see the stress in his eyes and the worry. He takes his fingers and glides them down the cut. The wound seals and the spilled blood forms rings around Dhaval’s fingers.

Himnak recoils at first, inspecting the cut on his hand then looking at Dhaval. “This is-” he frowns. “I went to school to learn how to do this shit and you can just do it naturally? Way to keep stealing the spotlight.” His frown then blossoms into a grin. “Way to go, brother.”

Relief washes over Dhaval’s face. “You can’t tell any of the others,” he says urgently. “Damini, Chirayu, and Davya, I don’t want them knowing about this.”

“No worries.” Himank turns his hand over several times as he inspects where the cut was. “You don’t mind if I give it a try too, right?” He smirks.

Dhaval grimaces and Himank laughs. “No worries. I don’t think I want to know.” He then looks to me. “So what are you planning to do, Grandpa? You think you can teach Dhaval all of Balafelamona’s tricks?”

“If he can harness this ability, then he can fight against Sanguis with equal footing.” I answer. 

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Himank growls. “No one is more stupid than my brother here. He would rather sacrifice himself than ask for help. I don’t want him fighting alone out there. Now all this shit with Mila-” he grumbles and shakes his head.

“Himank,” Dhaval scolds.

“It’s true! Even when we were kids! We’re the same age, Dhaval, and you still took it upon yourself to protect me. Back when that assassin came to kill us and mom, what did you do? You put yourself ahead of us! When Addor attacked the palace? What did you do? You got us to safety and tried to stay watch outside the door! I’m sick of you doing this, Dhaval.” He then glares hard at him. “You need to ask for help! From me, from Damini, hell, even from these liches. You can’t do it all yourself, no matter how much you don’t want to worry others! If Damini and I have this same ability, fuck, maybe Dad has it. Maybe Aahna has it!”

Himank grips Dhaval’s hand tight. “If we can all use this power, then isn’t that good? If you don’t want me to tell anyone, I won’t. But I want you to consider what all of us fighting together means. You can face Sanguis alone, whatever. But we can protect you the same way you’ve protected us.”

Tears are rolling down Dhaval’s cheek. “I can’t ask that of you.”

“You can. We love you and we want to help.” Himank glares up at me. “What can you teach us?”

“Her works may not be with me anymore, but I know them by heart. I had to learn them in order to defeat her.” I say with a nod. 

“Then start at the beginning,” Himank replies. “Tell us all you know about Balafelamona and her magic. Sanguis knows them. If we know them, then we can stand against him.”

“Gather those you want to know,” I reply. “And I will tell the story to all of them.”

Himank and Dhaval bring their family into the great hall. There is Chirayu, a strapping young lad of nineteen, Davya, a lovely girl of seventeen, Damini, a powerful and graceful woman of twenty-five. There is also their parents, Amit and Mythri, Damini’s fiance, Nicolai, and the former emperor of Culuweth, Nadeem, and his wife and two young children. Theodred and Albion are also here. As I am getting ready to close the doors, another young woman comes into the room. She is a fae and is tall and lithe. She is the former lover of Sanguis and the mother of his child.

“Sit down,” I say to them. “This story is long, but Dhaval and Himnak believe it is something you all should know. Since Sanguis has affected your lives so harshly and my connections to him run deep.” I look around the room at all the young faces there. 

I take a deep breath. “The Bloodline of Amit is also the Bloodline of Balafelamona,” I start. “I do not regret the child I made with her, but I do regret allowing myself to be manipulated by her. It cut my family deep and I feel the wounds still linger to this day. I allowed her to take over my life, my son’s life, and she nearly took the entirety of Rakshasa with her. Seeing Gnolls here, I realize now that my children have much more clarity than their ancestors ever did. I can feel the loyalty and trust between all of you in this room.”

“Liar,” Theodred throws from the back of the room.

“Most of you,” I grumble. “This isn’t a fairy tale. This is history, and it is dark and full of lessons. I only hope I can be the light to illuminate those lessons for you. My children, you are all capable of the same magic that Balafelamona and Sanguis possess.”

“Oh shit,” Theodred whispers.

“All of them?” Mythri whispers. She looks at all her children and I can taste the fear that is in her eyes. “All of them?” She repeats as she looks up to me for answers.

“I understand your concern, a sane mother would be,” I bow my head to her. “But let me tell this story and they can decide for themselves if they wish to look further into themselves.”

“Please, Mama,” Davya whispers. “I want to know.”

Mythri sits back down into her seat and Amit puts his arm around her. “Go on then.”

I look around the room again, studying each face for a moment. I then motion to Albion and Theodred. “I know you will do this regardless, but you two know just as much about her as I do. Fill in the gaps. Your knowledge is gold here.”

“Fuck, duh,” Theodred growls. “Let me just preface by saying that Balafelamona uses a sweet front to rip your soul to shreds. She manipulates and abuses. She tears through any gift you give her because it is not enough. Even her own Blood Magic wasn’t good enough for her. That was why she turned the way she did. She wanted more than anybody. You fucking cats are lucky you’re even alive to see this day.”

Albion grabs his brother’s arm. “Let him talk.”

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    My father had just died and I was taking over the tribe. Back in those days, the Rakshasa were all spread out; some were nomadic, others had claimed lands ages ago. My tribe had taken the same location for generations. Our small village had been built from the cold, dark stone in the earth. We had built it to last generations, little did we know how short it would actually stand.

    I was still quite young, but I had been practicing sorcery since I was little. I didn’t realize how powerful I was and I never truly understood it. I simply did what I did for my people and to protect the village because that is what leaders did.  

    It wasn’t long after my father was buried that a stranger stumbled into our midst. She was found at the edge of the desert, dehydrated and very sick. Humans had often come to us to do trade, but they usually weren’t allowed in. I took pity on this poor girl because she seemed so small and helpless. 

    I watched over her health, she acted timid and scared. The girl claimed that all the giant Rakshasa frightened her. I tried to convince her there was nothing to be afraid of, but it took her some time to come out of her shell.

    “Where I come from, we don’t even have Rakshasa,” she told me. “It’s so strange seeing you all around when all you’ve heard is stories!”

    “Where do you come from?” I asked her. “Are you from the Polar or across the Cobra Strait?”

    I was a fool who was tricked by big green eyes and a trembling bottom lip. Balafelamona already had perfected the act which would lead to my downfall. Her manipulation had started already and I had willingly fallen into the snare. 

    “Across the strait,” she replied. 

    “Then what are you doing here?” I asked her. “All alone and near the desert like you were, it’s almost as if you weren’t sent to your death.”

    Her eyes grew wide and she looked away from me. She began to tremble and shake, and the big tears that spilled from her eyes insured her hooks were firmly in me. 

    “I was!” She wept horribly, blubbering and wailing, all while desperately trying to hold it all back. “They said I was a monster!”

    I held her in my arms and she pressed her face against my chest. She was shaking like a leaf and all I could do was hold her. When she finally calmed down, I saw that she looked even more sweet and beautiful than before. The dewy stain of tears on her cheeks and the way her lips had swollen gave her this strangely angelic look. Like I said, I was fooled so easily. 

    “How could someone like you even be considered a monster?” I gave her a cloth I carried to wipe my hands. She cleaned off her face and clung to the bit of scrap fabric. 

    “Because of the magic I use,” she whimpered. “I don’t know what you think of it here, but across the strait, they fear it and call anyone who can use it evil.”

    “I use magic as well,” I chuckled. “I’ve been training to use it since I was born.”

    She looked me over and sniffled again, hiding her face behind the cloth. “It is much different than that.” She held out her hand to me. “You have a cut,” she said. “Let me see it.”

    I had received the wound just the day before. I had been training with my men and one of them had landed a successful blow on me. The girl grabbed my arm and, had I been smart, I would have been shocked by the strength she held for someone supposedly saved from death. She rubbed her fingers along the cut and the dried blood crusted in my fur became fluid again. It rose like red beads and gathered in clusters around her fingertips. I watched as the cut sealed over and disappeared into my fur.

    Once the girl let go of me, I looked over the skin, barely even seeing a scar. The droplets of my blood stilled hovered around her fingertips before she gasped and they dissolved in the air. 

    “I’m sorry!” She recoiled from me. “Please, I’ll leave right away, just don’t tell anyone about what I can do!”

    “Hey, it’s ok,” I coaxed her. “I’ve never seen anything like it,” I whisper. “And I have been studying since I was young. I’ve never been able to heal like that.” I grinned at her and leaned in close. “Who are you?”

    Her sweet smile was my doom and quickly became my greatest weakness. “Balafelamona.” A soft blush covered her pale cheeks. “You can call me anything else. I know it is a mouthful of a name.”

    “Balafelamona,” I smirked at her. “Welcome, my name is Amit. I would greatly love to learn more about your powers. If you are willing to teach me, I’ll keep you here.”

    Balafelamona giggled and dipped her head down. “It would be safer here than anywhere else I have been.” She looked back at me with an eager grin on her face. “Perhaps, in exchange for my lessons, you could teach me a few things as well.”

    Her words were suggestive, but I was eager to keep her around. This small girl already had me tightly wrapped around her small fingers. Balafelamona stood out in the tribe for many reasons, not just because she was a human. She worked her way into the village, as well as my heart. She took care of the sick, healing them and using her Blood Magic in ways I could only dream. She taught me things about her powers, and while I was able to learn and integrate them in with my own abilities, I still didn’t have the raw power that she did.

    One day, I took her down into what now is the catacombs of the kingdom. In my day, there were underground caverns where we buried our dead under the dark stone. She had asked to see it, as she was curious. Down below, she came across the stone mounds where our dead were buried. Immediately, she approached the one that belonged to my father. 

    “Why do you bury them down here rather than above?” She asked me.

    “Most of the ground around here is either sand or earth we need for gardening,” I told her. “Down here, the caverns are cool and dark, and people can still visit their loved ones.”

    Balafelamona turned back to my father’s mound. “They are not here, you know? What was them is long gone forever.”

    I’m a bit shocked by her sudden morose and rather cruel tone. “Not forever. They will be in the afterlife waiting for us.”

    “Do you believe such things?” Balafelamona turned and looked up at me again. “Another world after our own? A place where we all meet up again and what? We continue to live?” She frowned at me. “It is selfish to think such thing. Once our eyes close for that final sleep, we are gone. We no longer exist.”

    “Bala,” I took hold of her shoulders and she forced me away. She ran through the underground, winding up in a room where light shone from above in the corner. She stood there in that room as I approached her.

    “You do not have to fear death if you believe in another life,” Balafelamona hissed. “But I don’t believe in that and I am terrified every day.” She covered her face with her hands and wept. “When I was left out in the desert, I was so scared every day. I was going to die alone and forgotten, unloved and empty.”

    “You do not have to fear that anymore.” I stood behind her and placed my hands on her shoulders. “You are not alone anymore.”

    Balafelamona turned around and gazed up at me. I believed then that she loved me as I loved her.

    “I’m not?” She sniffled.

    “No.” I put my hands around her waist. “The whole village adores you, you know. I-” I hesitated and she tilted her head closer. 

    “You?” She asked and placed her palm on my chest.

    I kissed her and she put her arms around me. Our own desires took hold of us. The kisses grew deeper and more desperate the longer we allowed ourselves to be close. The cold, dark room began to grow warm with our own desire. 

    I laid Bala down on the ground on top of my robes and gazed at her body in the light filtering in from the stone ceiling. She trembled and I coaxed her with a gentle kiss.

    “If you are nervous, you can tell me to stop,” I whispered to her.

    Bala whimpered and shook her head. “I’ve just never done this sort of thing before.” As I am telling this story, Theodred is laughing loudly. 

I smiled at Bala as her small voice tried to remain strong. “And you’re so very big.” Bala’s sweet smile made me weak again. We kissed and I embraced her and we made love down there in the catacombs. 

When I awoke, I found myself alone down there. I heard murmuring from the other chamber and, when I stepped inside, I saw Bala knelt down before my father’s mound as if she were praying. In the light of the torch, I saw a shadow on her thigh but thought nothing of it.

“Bala?” 

She jumped at the sound of my voice and stood up. She stared back at me and, in the light of the fire, her eyes looked red.

“Oh!” She gasped and her eyes returned to normal. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”

“No,” I shook my head. “What are you doing?”

Bala shifted in place then ran up to me and threw her arms around me. “I was thanking your father for creating such a wonderful son.”

I chuckled and kissed her. “I would much rather you thank me.” I kissed her again. “But I appreciate the sentiment.” I lead her back to the chamber and hung the torch back on the wall there.

As time went on, Bala learned she was pregnant. She started making plans, wanting a better world for her son. It was while she was pregnant she started to espouse all these strange ideas. She claimed that we needed to unify all the Rakshasa tribes and that I should be the one to lead over them. I had been told that sometimes women acted strangely as they were heavy with child, but I had not been expecting this.

Still, I wanted to do the best for my growing family and I do not do justice to how convincing Balafelamona was. During the birth of my son, I was at war with some of the other tribes. By the time Vihaan was a year old, I had succeeded in bringing the tribes together. The ones that didn’t want to join were met with swift punishment and banished out into the desert. 

Still, Balafelamona’s lust for power grew. She threw fits and tantrums on me, using our own son against me. She claimed if I loved Vihaan, I would do anything possible to make him the most powerful king in all the empire. By Vihaan’s second birthday, we had taken over the Dragonborn and Kobolds. We drove the Kobolds out and took over their ruby mines. The Dragonborn became some of our strongest warriors and Bala had taken to them like they were long lost family. 

One day, Bala presented me with a large ruby that had been discovered in the mines that the Dragonborn had been working in.

“Look, my love,” she told me. “Isn’t it a wonder! I brought it to you to show you how vast our wealth has grown. Your empire is coming together.”

I was holding our son, Vihaan, who was smaller than the ruby. Bala kept trying to offer me the ruby, but I couldn’t hold it and our son at the same time. The giant thing slipped from my hands and struck the ground hard. Bala stood there, eyes wide open and her jaw slack as she gazed down at the ruby. Vihaan was fussing, he had been suffering a toothache, so I had been tending to him all day since he just wanted someone to hold him.

“Bala,” I chuckled. “It’s a wonderful sentiment, but I never wanted this. I never wanted an empire aside from the family I have with you and Vihaan.”

Bala picked the ruby back up and glared at me. “I have tried to shape you into a true king! And you do not appreciate it!”

Vihaan whined and Bala cut her eyes at him. “You just care about this child when anyone in the village can do it.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “Bala, what have I done wrong? This is our child!”

“I want him to rule!” She screamed at me. “My blood will cover the land one day! It will shadow and eclipse all!”

I stared her down, rising up with Vihaan in my arms. “What are you talking about, Bala?” I whispered. “What madness is this?”

“You do not understand!” Bala cried. She turned on her charm again. Her big green eyes became soft and gentle again, and tears flowed down her cheeks. “I am so scared I will lose you both. I don’t want to even think about it.”

“There is nothing to be afraid of.” I knelt down and held her in my arms with Vihaan. “I will do everything in my power to make sure you and Vihaan are safe.”

“And what about you?” She cried. “What if I lose you? What will I do?”

“These things happen, my love.” I kissed her. “I cannot promise forever, only that I will try to reach it with you.”

Bala pressed her forehead against mine and held me close. She nodded and sniffled, kissing my cheeks and over my eyes. “If there was a way to attain it...Would you?”

“For you? I would do anything,” I whispered.

After that, I thought the matter had been dropped. A few days later, Vihaan’s tooth was pulled and I was making it into a charm for Bala. As I was wrapping it with wire, Bala came rushing into the room, carrying a great big tome with her. 

“My love!” She exclaimed. “I have found it.”

I eyed her with suspicion. “Found what?”

She grinned and patted the book she laid before me. “A way to attain forever. A way that you can harness all that magic you have inside of you.”

“Are you sure?” I asked. “This isn’t just some legend, is it?”

“The Dragonborn showed it to me.” She opened the book and I saw the pages were stuck together with dried blood. The page she held open had a handprint on the inside, where the blood had turned black. “You can become the king to end all kings if you let me help you.”

I was a weak man lead astray by a woman he loved. The process in which she forced onto me was painful and agonizing. I essentially was dead and she rose me from the grave again. My magic took hold of me and controlled me. In my state, my own son was terrified of me. He wouldn’t look at me, let alone be around me. I was forced to lead my people in battles and soon the Dragonborn were rising. I had fallen for Balafelamona’s trap just as much as I had fallen for her. More and more, I realized she did not love me, but merely used me as a tool. I was her weapon, her shield and sword. With me, she got the empire she wanted. 

“Dad,” Vihaan came to me one evening. He had grown much since the last time I had seen him. His voice was cracking and squeaking, showing signs of it deepening as he matured. He was tall and gangly, his limbs were long, but I could already see the man he would grow into.

“Dad, I’m scared,” he confessed to me. “I don’t know if you’re in there, but I really need you now. So please...If that’s you, I need you.”

“I’m here, Vihaan,” I told him. “I am here. What is wrong? Let me help you.”

We embraced for the first time in years and Vihaan confessed to me everything his mother was doing. Balafelamona had not simply appeared in Rakshasa Country because people wanted her dead, but because she wanted to find me. Vihaan showed me her journal filled with her plans, thoughts, and all her spells. 

“You’re not her first Lich,” Vihaan cried. “She’s done it before, but they threw her out.” He took hold of my hand and squeezed tight. “She’s going to scorch the earth. She simply doesn’t want to rule all of the empire, she wants to control it. We have to stop her, Dad...Please.” He then showed me the scars on his palms. “She’s been teaching it to me, her blood magic.”

I grabbed hold of his hands and squeezed hard. “I will not allow her to use you, my son.” I gritted my teeth. “I will find a way to end her.”

My research led me to a discovery that I didn’t want to believe. In order to take down Bala, I would have to use our own son to do it. Only her blood could stop her. I was hesitant at first and hid my findings, but Vihaan was far smarter than I gave him credit for. He approached me with the same information I had found. He agreed to it, much to my dismay.

    We worked in secret, amassing our people together to rise up against Bala and the Dragonborn. It was a hard and vicious battle, a violence I had never witnessed before in my life. I fought against Bala, and after the blood drained from Vihaan, I was able to cut off her head. 

    We burned her body and then tossed her bones into the ocean. Afterward, I had every trace of Bala erased from the kingdom and I took her journal to seal away with me. Vihaan begged me to stay, but I knew what must be done. I had to protect the world from Bala and her evil, so I took every trace of her and locked it and myself away in atonement. I trusted Vihaan to take care of what remained. He was young, but I knew he would be a good king.

    “I never knew you cut her head off,” Theodred quips as I end the story. “I would have loved to have seen that.”

    “If Balafelamona’s texts were sealed away with you, then how did they get out?” Nadeem asked me. “Unless Vihaan kept them.”

    I shake my head. “I am uncertain how the texts got out. I don’t want to think my own son would betray me, but I-” I still and take a deep breath. “I only hope he did what I tried to teach him when he was young. I can only hope he was a good king.”

    “He led a lot of crusades,” Damini suddenly speaks up. She fidgets for a moment and looks at her younger siblings. “He chased out the Dragonborn, nearly obliterated them from existence. He then burned all Blood Mages at the stake.”

I sigh as the weight falls upon me. “How do you know this?”

“King Niran has all the histories,” Damini answers me. “Himank and I have been reading them, hoping to find something.” She shakes her head. “King Vihaan made the Rakshasa Country into a powerful kingdom, but he did it based on fear.”

“But why take the texts?” Mythri speaks up. “Balafelamona had taught him blood magic at that point, right? He wouldn’t need them, would he?”

“Even if his mother was a tyrant,” Theodred mutters, “he still loved her just as he loved his father.” He tilts his chin up. “He probably took it just to have something of her left behind. But as to what happened to it after it left his hands?” He shrugs. “Who knows. All that we know is this Sanguis asshole has it.”

Amit looks tense for a moment and he looks to Mythri. He then turns and looks up at me. “My grandfather, Rajesh, had a sister who married an enemy of the Rakshasa. She betrayed us and stole much from the palace.” His eyes narrow deep. “This included a large section of what remained of our histories and libraries.”

“Well, well, well,” Theodred sighs. “We found our little leak.”

“Are we cursed?” Dhavya asks with a quiet voice.

“Not at all, my daughter,” I coax her. “Our Bloodline is like any other. We have good and bad within all of us. I am just sorry to say the beginning of the line was a bad one. But from what I see here, it is ending in good.”

“But what can all this do to save my daughter?” Nadeem stands up. “What is it doing to save those Sanguis is taking into his clutches?”

I glance at Dhaval and his stressed expression. 

“Emmeline, correct?” I look back at Nadeem. 

“Uh...yes,” he gasps. 

“It will take blood,” I reply. “But we will find a way to bring them back unharmed.”