The Pact: Bruno and the Crimson Veil

POV: Bruno

Before me stood exactly 48 recruits, lined up in silence. I watched them, evaluating.

— You don't look strong to me, I said calmly, almost bored.

— You aspire to strength, but don't understand what it means to lack it, I added, my voice laced with mockery.

I wanted to sift through them.

Expose the weak-minded… and the snakes hidden among them.

That's when a muscular vampire, arrogance dripping from his posture, dared to speak:

— Just because of that silver hair and a wyvern as your companion, you think you're strong? I doubt your skills, captain, he said, spitting the title like venom.

I looked at him with interest.

He stood about 1.87 meters tall, muscular, bronze-skinned. A heavy aura seemed to surround him. He wore nothing but pants — a modern gladiator.

— What's your name, insect? I asked, letting the disdain bleed through.

He growled back:

— Taurus. I demand a fight!

Without waiting for an answer, he charged like a tank.

Curious about his audacity, I held my ground. When his fist was about to strike, I kicked him in the stomach — sending him flying.

— Bold. I like that. But I don't tolerate defiance. Back to your place.

With blood on his lips and pride crushed, he got up and returned to the line.

I scanned the group again.

— I know some of you. Why don't you step forward?

Three did: Cylan, Desmond, and Kiara.

— State your names and specialties.

— Cylan. I'm good with poisoned daggers and stealth attacks.

— Desmond. Sword specialist.

— Kiara. I use a whip.

I nodded without much comment.

— Among you… using only your knowledge, who is the strongest?

They looked at each other, confused.

Each believed themselves the strongest — but I could already see the true standouts.

Cylan, with his silent, venomous aura, small and deadly like a serpent.

A medium-built vampire with a black sword across his back.

And a small vampire girl, her Vitae as thick as mine — though poorly controlled.

Tyler stood beside me, watching with interest.

— What kind of training do you usually give the recruits? I asked.

— Normally, I teach them the basics of vampiric powers and help them specialize in weapons.

— Then continue.

I turned back to the recruits.

— Tyler will resume your training. Meanwhile, each of you will tell me who the strongest among you is. If no one knows... there will be punishment.

With that, I left.

I had more pressing matters: The Hall of Abilities… and then the Armory.

Time to learn fire spells. And claim a new chain.

The Hall of Abilities wasn't far — maybe sixty steps away.

It was huge, though simple and functional. I walked in and headed straight for the front desk.

— Good morning. I'd like to learn some abilities, I said flatly.

The clerk asked for my confirmation badge.

Sitha had given me one the day before — strange, but effective. Oval-shaped, with a soft glow at the center. Pressing it to your forehead transmitted all your information.

Upon seeing mine, the clerk immediately straightened up.

— My apologies! I didn't know you were a captain. Please, allow me to guide you.

I simply nodded — as if it were nothing important.

He led me to a room filled with blood tapes.

— These are blood tapes. They're detailed copies of abilities, the attendant explained. Each has a name and function listed. Simply touch them to learn.

The tapes were well organized: neutral spells, blood spells, body enhancement, mental abilities, and so on.

Elemental spells were different.

There were no basic fire, water, wind, or earth spells — only rare derivatives like gravity (from earth) or sound (from wind).

— There are no universal elemental spells because each person manifests the elements differently. It's something you must discover on your own, he explained.

There were also basic knowledge tapes — containing no spells, just foundational information.

I touched a few and the data flowed into me instantly.

Neutral section:

Telekinesis

Flight

Traction

Spiritual Vision

Spiritual Sense

And others.

I carefully considered what would be most useful.

Two came to mind immediately: Telekinesis, for controlling weapons at a distance.

Spiritual Sense, which I already had some intuitive grasp of.

I was tempted to choose Spiritual Eye — an evolved form of Spiritual Sense — but it was a mid-level ability. I wasn't ready. Not yet.

Besides the two spells, I also selected a few basic knowledge tapes to broaden my understanding.

Once done, I headed to the Armory — just twenty steps away.

It was vast, filled with all kinds of weapons.

Sitha had told me that as captain, I could choose any weapon aligned with my skill.

I needed a new chain.

My bone spear would still last a while… but not forever.

I entered and approached the desk.

The receptionist — small, polite — saw my badge and quickly led me to the arsenal.

— Do you have a weapon preference, sir?

— Magical chains, I replied.

She looked surprised, but nodded.

We walked to a section dedicated to chains — all of them lavish, overly ornate. Not my style.

I examined them one by one… until I saw it:

A black chain. Simple. Silent.

And inscribed with the same enchantment as my old one.

— Any info on this chain? I asked.

She consulted a folder and replied:

— Yes. That's a black-iron chain — extremely flexible. It has a spell that increases its weight, another that reduces its thickness without losing offensive power, and one that allows storage: when wrapped around your arm, it becomes a tattoo and can be summoned at will. Few use chains, so it's never been chosen.

I nodded.

— I'll take it.

— Of course. Right this way.

The process was easy — just a signature and a drop of blood.

Upon leaving, it was time to return.

Ignis awaited.

And it was time to train my new skills: fire, telekinesis, spiritual sense.

The barracks were vast — solid, efficient. Like a war base out of a movie.

After four or five minutes, I returned to my room and nudged my sleeping partner.

— Let's train, buddy. It's almost seven.

Ignis leapt onto me, licking me like always.

Clean. Rested. Eager.

As we left, I saw Tyler working with the recruits.

They eyed each other cautiously.

Will they figure out who's strongest?

No… not yet.

I smiled and walked toward the training area.

It was smaller than Flávia's training field — but it would do.

Ignis immediately charged toward his eternal rivals: the training dummies.

I sat and began to meditate.

I tried to awaken my Vitae.

But my mind was a storm — sadness, anger, guilt.

The fire element responded to my emotions:

Rage made it burn wildly, ready to destroy.

Sadness and loneliness made it flicker and fade.

Happiness… gave it a soft, blue hue.

I wouldn't find peace — so I would master the flame through instinct and training.

After thirty minutes, I stood.

I fetched a few cups, filled them with water, and placed them in front of me.

Then, sitting again, I focused on channeling the fire.

No deep use of Vitae — just elemental control.

The cups didn't change. But the water inside did — warm, then hot.

But it demanded immense focus.

I kept refining it for forty minutes.

Then…

A fireball flew at me.

Ignis. Of course. Laughing. Bored by my slow method.

— You slob… what should I be doing?

He replied with action. Another fireball.

— You want me to throw fireballs too? I asked.

He nodded, his eyes glowing.

— How? I asked, confused.

Ignis showed me — slow and clear.

A soft growl.

Vitae condensed.

Transformed into flame.

Of course. Control the Vitae.

Harness the emotion.

Transform it into fire.

I pointed my hand forward.

I summoned the same feeling — the one that warmed the cups…

The feeling from the castle… from the forest… from Nox.

And then…

A small fireball flew.

Never had I felt such joy.

But then…

Ignis launched a bigger one — absorbing mine midair and sending me crashing to the floor.

He approached, laughing.

"This is the feeling..."

"Feel the fire."

POV: Flávia

Inside the castle, I trained.

My rapier sliced the air, tore through the wind, scattered my aura —

but all it carried was raw, bitter rage.

Irritated.

Frustrated.

Abandoned.

Thoughts like blades shredded me, while tears burned in my eyes.

I understood him.

He understood me.

And yet… he left me.

No.

I left him first.

He was a child thrown into a cruel world.

His deepest wounds… were caused by me — directly or indirectly.

And even so… I abandoned him.

Through mistimed strikes and clumsy footwork, my mind spiraled.

I don't even know where he is anymore.

He chose to walk into the storm, face the unknown, explore a world that never welcomed him.

Maybe I said things the wrong way?

No… I was too direct.

My attacks grew fiercer — heavier with grief and desperation.

And those eyes of his… full of fear.

But for one fleeting moment — was that fear of me?

Why?

I collapsed to my knees.

Tears flowed freely.

No strength left to hold them back.

I should've gone after him — I know that.

But what did he mean when he said everything happened too fast?

I sobbed for the days he'd been gone.

For the distance now between us.

And then a memory pierced my heart — sharp and unrelenting:

"You gave me love... so I will repay it with respect and trust."

His words…

The day I returned his phone.

Did I break that trust?

Was that why… fear?

But it doesn't make sense.

He forgave me.

So what… was that?

Why did he leave?

I thought of him every day.

I was afraid.

Afraid he would die.

Now here I am.

Weak.

Defeated.

Powerless.

Lost in shadows of thought:

You were taken from me.

But when you came back… you left me.

She couldn't see it…

But Flávia had a life.

A people.

A story.

And Bruno?

Bruno only had Flávia.

His family…

His friends…

They were left behind, across the sea.

Even his faith.

Now, he was on the other side —

the side of darkness.

The realm of night-born creatures.

And when his only lighthouse faded…

His ship drifted, lost, into the blackness.

Maybe it would've been better to chain him to a lonely island,

waiting for sunlight to return —

than to let him wander blindly,

trusting a lighthouse that might never shine again.

After all…

Who said the lighthouse was meant to guide him?

Why cling to something…

that no longer clings to you?

Let Flávia see the truth,

before it's too late.

For fate…

Fate is merciless.

It is cruel.

And it never waits.