Aether Nexus: Curse of Love & Hatred

The first figure, a fat man in a deep-green robe, adorned with embroidery that hinted at his position of authority. His thick mane of unkempt, graying black hair flowed down to his similarly colored beard, giving him a somewhat disheveled look. He stood before a symbol consisting of two circles: one large, with a much smaller one nestled at the very bottom inside the first circle. His right eye carried the same symbol, with both eyes half-lidded, and his expression being one of perpetual indolence, like a sloth.

Next, a sickly and scrawny young boy, with long dark-green hair that almost perfectly hid his pallid face. He stood before a symbol consisting of an arrow forming a circle. His left eye bore the same symbol, with both eyes glinted with envy. A dark green hue swirled in the depths of his gaze—a gaze that Saa’ir could feel was filled with longing and bitterness.

The third figure was a young, fourteen-year-old boy with a dirty blonde mullet, a dark red headband and tattered clothing. As he held something glittering in his dirty hands, a weasel-like creature, perched on his left shoulder, scanned and sniffed the object. He stood before a symbol consisting of a circle with three smaller circles positioned on its border, forming a perfect triangle. His right eye carried the same symbol, with both eyes shining with a mix of compassion and innocent greed.

A fourth figure, another fourteen-year-old boy, stood with his back turned, revealing a vast array of weaponry: a sharply edged boomerang, a knife, multiple shurikens, and a short sword, all holstered and strapped to his person. His worn mercenary garb, covered in scratches and tears, spoke of countless battles. After a few moments, the boy finally turned towards the man, revealing his dark brown, spiky hair, goggles, and a lone eye—his left eye. Saa'ir could see that eye burned with intense wrath, barely contained, a place mercy had never known as a home. The symbol within his eye, and the one he stood before, was an upside-down pentagram.

The fifth figure was a bald, imposing man of impressive stature, a mountain in human form. He was clad in heavy-duty, royal blue armor with titanium linings and regal markings—the markings belonging to Regalia Kingdom. He looked to be some sort of emperor, exuding a presence that would make any normal person kneel on instinct. He stood before the symbol of a pyramid with an eye above it, as if the eye was a god to be worshipped. Opening his left eye, revealing the very same symbol, a powerful roar of pressure, summoned by his sheer will, surged forward like an unchained lion. Saa’ir was not only mentally, but also physically taken aback by the man’s seemingly tangible pride, befitting a conqueror whose ego knew no bounds.

Beside the imposing man stood a sixth figure of ambiguous gender, draped in wizard-styled robes of the same color and markings, which concealed a noticeable hunchback. The symbol they stood for was a rhombus divided into four pieces by an ‘X’ shape. This same symbol resided in their left eye, hidden behind the bangs of their chrome-blue hair. Their most striking feature was their face, a grotesque patchwork. Their skin was a quilt of different tones and textures, each section crudely stitched to the next with thick, black thread. One cheek was sunken in, giving off a skeletal appearance. Both eyes glinted with a sinister intelligence; bottomless voids that revealed their disregard for all life. It was clear that not a shred of empathy inhabited this vessel of wickedness.

The seventh figure was an embryo, suspended in the air. Despite appearances, Saa'ir could feel it harbored an even greater dark force behind it than the others—a force that consisted of two ancient evils. It exuded immense potential, as if it held the power to shape or destroy entire realms one day. It was then that Saa'ir realized: this embryo—this thing—is the reason he was called here. Its mere existence has caused an unforeseen shift in the cosmic balance. If it were to be left alive, the world would certainly be swallowed in its entirety by gluttonous shadows, leaving nothing but darkness—mortalkind’s darkest day. The symbol it represented was the most confusing to Saa'ir, describable only as the face of a monster who dwells within one's own shadows.

Finally, Saa'ir turned his attention to the last figure—a mahogany-toned, tall, and slender man, dressed impeccably in a black and blood-red suit. Standing before the symbol of a single, wavy line as he straightened the cuffs of his suit jacket, he emitted an aura of timeless elegance and mystery. His eyes, deep and ancient, seemed to hold the weight of centuries, with the right eye also holding the simple symbol. Saa’ir felt an intriguing mix of power, wisdom, and an endless lust for knowledge from the man.

Though, something felt extremely off to Saa'ir about the man’s aura—or rather, the man’s aura felt very familiar.

The more Saa’ir focused on the man, studying his features, the more he could feel the pure, yet silent power he possessed. Compared to the others, it was clear as day to Saa’ir. “This one… In the suit… He's the most powerful among these individuals, even when compared to the one in the blue armor and the embryo…”

Finally subcumming to his curiosity, Saa'ir took steps toward the eighth figure. The figure himself seemed to not notice, continuing to hum an old melody and check out his trimmed, claw-like nails.

“Not only that, but this specific individual… He's the only one I feel like…like we’ve met before. This man, just who and what are you?” Saa'ir wondered to himself as he stood a few feet from the eighth figure.

As Saa’ir continued to ponder, he would be slightly taken off guard by the eighth figure simply raising his head to look up at him. Saa'ir blinked several times, trying to determine if he was seeing things, only for his eyes to lock with the figure’s—or rather, the other way around.

Locked in a brief pause as both men stared at each other, Saa’ir gulped. Not out of fear, but from pure tension, birthed through the figure’s mere gaze. “His gaze… It’s so intense…!”

Looking into the windows of the man’s soul, Saa'ir felt as if he was glimpsing civilizations rise and fall, the secrets of Eranovum’s history both unveiled and forgotten. In that moment, his suspicions were confirmed: this figure, unlike the rest, wasn’t human.

A realization that was followed by the figure giving Saa'ir a toothy smile, as if he read his very thoughts. The smile alone was enough to send a chill down the previously unfeeling Saa'ir.

Reacting to the sudden wave of fear, Saa'ir jumped back several feet from the man, whose smile only grew larger, revealing a nigh perfect set of teeth—say for the two prominent, sharp fangs located on his upper jaw.

“What the? I felt no malice nor bloodlust from the man, but…it was like he could see me at that moment…” Saa'ir alarmingly thought while he stood back up, only to realize something strange.

Unbeknownst to Saa'ir until that moment, every other figure had turned their attention to him. Each one stood straight, arms at their sides, and blankly stared at Saa'ir.

Some had expressions of curiosity, others were of desperate expectations, and the outliers garnered looks of pure malice.

As he met their gazes, Saa'ir felt an intense, surreal sensation surge through his mind as they lined up side by side. Simultaneously, the symbols they stood in front began moving themselves, forming a circle above them.

Soon after, the stars surrounding them accelerated past at light speed, amplifying the surreal experience.

Continuing to observe, glued to the spot by his own awe, the symbols began to emit a bright light, growing in intensity until it was blinding. Saa'ir squinted, trying to shield his eyes, but to no avail as the light soon engulfed everything.

The figures themselves weren't spared, their forms dissolving into the radiance. The light surged towards Saa'ir, who became paralyzed with confusion as it pierced through his very soul.

Information flooded his mind, each piece a sharp dagger of knowledge. Names, locations, birthplaces, and histories of each figure forced their way into his consciousness. He felt as though his mind was being torn apart by the influx of information, each new fact searing itself into his memory.

Amidst the chaos of information overload, he saw a vision within the void of light: a giant tree with millions of leaves on its branches, each leaf shimmering with life.

It was as if the tree itself was a living repository of every soul, every story ever told. The brilliance of the tree's leaves seemed to pulse in rhythm with his own heartbeat, connecting him to a vast network of existence.

Throughout this experience, Saa'ir’s head throbbed with a fierce, unrelenting pressure, as if a vise were tightening around his skull. He clutched his head, his fingers digging into his scalp in a desperate attempt to contain the torrent of information flooding his mind.

His perception was like a movie, swimming through a chaotic swirl of images and symbols. It felt as though a thousand voices were whispering in his ears, each one demanding his attention, each one telling a different story, each one vying for room within his mind. Room that was quickly being filled up and used, leaving stragglers to push for space, and by proxy, push against his own skull.

Just as he thought he could bear no more as he screamed from the bottom of his soul, the light began to recede just as it appeared. For a split second, there was nothing but the void as the light converged into a singularity.

Now collapsed on his knees, breathless and overwhelmed, Saa'ir found himself back on the cobblestone road of the town.

Clawing at the gravel that made up the road, he frantically looked around in an attempt to find any traces of the vision.

The stars still sparkled above, the streets still vacant, the night still young. Nothing was amiss, no signs of Saa'ir's experience even existing.

Nevertheless, the eight figures and their symbols had still marked him, their lives and destinies intertwined with his own. He looked down at his trembling hands, his previous confusion and fear slowly being replaced with acceptance, then determination.

“That vision… Those eight figures… The symbols… But most of all, that giant tree… It was as if the vision was coming directly from that tree, as if the tree…was some higher being, calling out to me!” Saa’ir thought, picking himself back up. His legs unexpectedly trembled, but he written it off as a side effect to his otherworldly experience.

After letting his mind wonder and process the information he was given, Saa'ir looked up at the stars one last time, the symbols flashing through his head once more. “Sloth, Envy, Greed, Wrath, Pride, Apathy, Gluttony, and Lust… Humanity’s Deadliest Sins, of which hold the key to the Darkest One's resurrection if brought together in one place.”

Massaging the temples of his head, Saa'ir tried to remember each figure, speaking aloud as to further fortify their existence into his memory.

“Okun Yamanaka, chief of Briarstone Village…

Juin Adin, a sickly boy of Enohay Village, who is not long for this world…

Shino Animaru, a poverty stricken adolescent in Reaon Kingdom, with both a heart of and dreams for gold…

Riochin Chroma, a constant traveling and nigh-emotionless mercenary…

Kaiser Aurelius, Emperor… No, rather—Conqueror of Regalia…

Herodias Balcom, a wicked sorcerer whose evil and magical prowess garnered him the right to be Kaiser’s lead servant…

Keshin, the harbinger of mortalkind’s darkest day…

And finally, Armaros Nital Vladen—the first ever vampire, who has been alive since the day of Eranovum’s birth…”

Saa’ir tilted his head to one side, a soft crack echoing from his neck as he released a deep, weary sigh. For the first time, he felt at ease, clarity finally inhabiting his mind and illuminating the fog within, revealing a maze of paths forward.

That is, until a voice sounded from behind him. "Quite impressive…" it said, carrying an authority that commanded attention without being overbearing.

Shocked, Saa'ir whipped around, unconsciously adopting an ancient battle stance. In the shadows, he saw only a glistening white smile. "Show yourself!" Saa'ir demanded, his soulura beginning to take form around him, signifying his readiness for battle.

A mischievous chuckle escaped the darkness, with its owner adhering to Saa'ir's demands and stepping forward, their smile never wavering.

First to be revealed from the shadows were their black gloved hands that were in the air, signifying that they came in peace. What followed, however, would puzzle Saa'ir to no end.

Now out in the open, completely bathed in the moonlight, the figure was revealed to be a man of height easily reaching seven feet, his clothing now in full view.

He wore a tailored, blood-red three-piece suit that accentuated his tall, slender frame. The suit's fabric had a subtle sheen, catching the light in a way that hinted at its high quality.

His white dress shirt underneath was crisp and perfectly pressed, with a high collar that framed his neck. The top button was undone, adding a touch of casual sophistication.

A black silk tie, knotted with impeccable skill, complemented his pale, yet dark complexion, and added much needed contrast between colors throughout his outfit.

Over his suit, the man wore a long, black overcoat with a classic cut. The coat's lapels were wide, and it flowed around him with every movement, giving him an almost regal appearance. His shoes further complimented the style being of polished black leather.

A blood-red fedora sat upon his head, hiding most of his facial features, except for his strong jawline and high cheekbones, enhancing his already captivating visage.

Overall, his entire outfit carried and exuded an aura of old-world charm, hinting at the deep depths to the man's long and immortal life.

That man was none other than Armaros—the King of Vampires and Calamity Sin Incarnation of Lust in the flesh.

Saa'ir immediately recognized Armaros, letting his guard down as he stood in shock. “Impossible… Y-You’re—!?”

Armaros’ fanged smile grew larger as he continued to approach, his movements almost akin to Saa’ir’s himself. Placing his left hand on his fedora and his right hand on his chest, he spoke once more. “Long time, no chat my old friend,” he said, pulling down the fedora from his head and revealing his eyes, of which held the symbol for the Sin of Lust, ”Saa'ir…”

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Next: (Chapter 41) The Immortal & Lustful King of Vampires