Harmony of Hatred: The Wicked Pianist

The air of Lumièrebourg, supposedly filled with romance and art, now felt different to Julian Lucien Malrick's senses. His newly awakened inner eye saw the city not as a symbol of freedom, but as fertile ground ready to be cultivated by darkness. The grand buildings, bustling cafes, and hurried crowds, all seemed like notes waiting to be arranged in his new symphony. Edric Sebastian Thornleigh was dead; what remained was the Maestro of Darkness, Julian.

His search for William and Celia resumed immediately, this time with a far greater power. Julian scoured the city with senses augmented by the devil, every hidden corner, every shadow that might conceal their traces. But William seemed shrouded in an invisible mist. The marvel of dark magic he possessed, the devil's whispers that now guided him, were unable to penetrate the mysterious protection that enveloped his old friend. Frustration, though overshadowed by his new power, still gnawed at him. Yet, he knew, time was on his side.

Meanwhile, Julian solidified his position in Aethelgard. No longer in grand public concert halls, he now held private concerts in his newly renovated residence, or in secluded, specially rented locations. The guests who attended were no longer conventional nobles or ordinary art patrons. They were souls consumed by thirst—a thirst for power, for limitless freedom, for recognition of their darkest desires. They were rebels, thrill-seekers, those who were weary of restrictive morality. Julian was their conductor, and his music was their new sermon.

In these private concerts, Julian did not merely play the piano; he was their messiah of darkness. Beneath the dim candlelight and strange aromas, he would play an invading melody, a symphony that liberated all taboos. His fingers danced on the keys, producing soul-stirring notes that stripped bare the hidden fears and desires of every listener. The music permeated, shattering fortresses of doubt, opening doors to the subconscious.

After the melody reached its peak and the room filled with an intoxicating silence, Julian raised his hands, his face illuminated by the candlelight, his eyes gleaming faintly red, radiating an almost inhuman charisma. His voice resonated, deep and captivating, filling every recess of his followers' hearts.

"Seekers of freedom," Julian declared, his voice like a reverberating whisper, yet full of absolute authority. "You have tasted the truth. The truth that morality is a shackle, love is a weakness, and true dominion belongs only to those who dare to cast themselves into the abyss." He stepped away from his piano, walking slowly among his transfixed followers, his eyes sharply observing every thirsty face. "You know the desires hidden in your hearts. The desire for power, for boundless pleasure, for control over your own destiny. This world tries to extinguish it, tries to bind you with rules and laws. They call it sin. I call it freedom. I call it power."

He paused, gazing at the dark ceiling. "You have found the way. The path to liberation from those shackles. Our Great Devil, the Lord of Emptiness, he does not demand blind faith. He demands courage. The courage to be your true selves. The courage to take what you desire. The courage to spread this symphony of dissonance throughout the world." Julian turned back to his followers, his smile cold, full of promise. "Do not merely seek pleasure for yourselves. Expand the darkness. Spread that desire. Shatter their false harmony. Make them dance to your rhythm. Every sin you commit, every soul you touch with this true freedom, is a praise to the Lord of Darkness. Prove your power. Prove that you are the true messiahs. Follow my path. And the whole world shall kneel before us!"

When his last words faded, the room erupted in wild euphoria. His followers rose, their eyes blazing with a crazed glint, their faces filled with a terrifying ecstasy. They raised their hands, screaming, a chorus of resounding echoes filling the room, almost overpowering the music still pulsating from the piano.

And they did it. Under the influence of Julian's music and words, the rooms became a stage for a banquet of sin. Some of his followers, with eyes rolled back, drank blood served in silver goblets, feeling a power permeate their bodies. Others, with hysterical laughter and wild eyes, engaged in mass sexual acts without restraint, amidst the chanting and murmuring crowd following Julian's rhythm. There was no shame, no regret, only limitless euphoria and release. Julian observed it all from his piano, a cold smile spreading across his lips, savoring every moral dissonance he created. He was the creator of hell on earth, and he had never felt so alive.

[William's Boredom and White Witch's Intervention]

Far from the chaos Julian created, in a humble hideaway home on the outskirts of Aethelgard, William Richard began to feel bored. Hiding for weeks, confined within four walls, was torture for his free spirit. He longed for the clamor of nightclubs, the laughter of women, and the thrill of adventure. His feelings for Celia still lingered, guilt and heartbreak mingling with deep disappointment. He wanted to go out, he wanted to live freely as he used to.

"I can't go on like this, Selene!" William complained one morning, as Selene Merrin, the niece of the witch who had once helped Alaric, and a pure white witch, was concocting herbal remedies in a corner of the room. Selene was a young woman with long silver hair and sharp eyes, radiating an unusual aura of calm and wisdom for her age. She was the one who had cloaked William with the protective spell, keeping him out of Julian's reach. "I'll go mad if I stay cooped up here! Edric... your Maestro of Darkness will never find me. Your spell is good, I'm sure!"

Selene looked up, her gaze cold. "You know the risk, William. This spell is strong, but not impenetrable. The aura Edric... Julian... now possesses is a power we have never faced before. If you step outside, if you draw attention, it could create a vulnerability."

"I don't care about vulnerabilities!" William retorted, his voice loud. "I want to live! I'm not a prisoner! You said you were helping me, not imprisoning me!" He stood up, pointing to the door. "I'm leaving. I can't live in fear like this anymore!"

Selene stood, nearly as tall as William, her gaze piercing sharply. "You will remain, William Richard. This is no longer about you. It's about the future. A greater destiny." The fierce argument continued for a while, with William rebelling with words, but eventually, seeing Selene's resolve, he sighed in resignation, though anger still burned in his eyes. He remained, for now.

[Selene Meets Ivy and the Prophecy]

After William calmed down, Selene Merrin departed immediately. She undertook a secret journey to a remote hut in the misty swamp, where her aunt, Ivy Merrin, the outcast witch who had once helped Alaric, resided. Ivy was an old figure with sharp eyes and a cynical smile; dark power still clung to her despite her choice to stay away from grand intrigues.

"He's going to run, Aunt," Selene said bluntly as she entered. "William cannot remain confined. He will rebel. I need a compliance potion. Something that can calm him, bind him. Without harming his soul."

Ivy chuckled softly, a laugh like the rustling of dry leaves. "I knew this would happen. Free spirits are always hard to shackle, even for their own good." Ivy looked at her niece. "You are too naive, Selene. The power Julian now wields... it surpasses ordinary protective spells. Why are you so obsessed with this boy?"

Selene returned her aunt's gaze with seriousness. "The prophecy, Aunt. Our ancient prophecy. William's soul... there's a seed within it that will eventually become an instrument to defeat the devil's powerful ally. His descendant. He is the one who will give birth to hope. We must keep him alive. This is our only chance to rebalance the world."

Ivy sighed, her cynical smile fading. "So, you believe that old prophecy? After all the destruction that has occurred?" However, she rose, moving to shelves filled with bottles and concoctions. "Very well. For you, my niece. But know this, the prophecy also says, the price for rebalancing the world is always higher than we anticipate." She began to concoct the potion, ancient whispers filling the air of the hut.