"Where am I?" Kael asked in a nearly whispered tone, his voice hoarse—as if silence had drained it for years.
The Silent Keeper raised his hand and sent an internal pulse toward Kael. He felt it slipping into his body… a strange sensation, but he didn't understand it. He stared at him, confused. The Keeper stepped forward and gently touched Kael's chest, as if searching for something. Then he turned toward the seated man and gave a slight nod—its meaning unclear.
The large man spoke in a calm voice that didn't match his size:
"Don't worry, child. We don't intend to hurt you. I am the guardian of this gate, and beside me… stands one of the Silent Keepers."
Kael turned toward the massive door behind them, wrapped in glowing red mist that pulsed with a strange energy. But he didn't understand… he hadn't understood anything since stepping out of that cell—since meeting Nyros—since the black blood entered him.
Questions flared in his mind like tongues of fire. Everything felt too large, too alien, too hostile.
Suddenly, he snapped, his voice shaking with anger:
"Damn it… what is this language?! What are these laws?! Why don't I understand anything?!"
The man laughed loudly—not mockingly, but as if genuinely amused by Kael's growing impatience.
"Very well… I'll explain it to you, boy."
He finally stood and took one step forward—and the earth shifted under his feet. Yet his demeanor was not threatening. He felt more like a teacher addressing a lost student.
"In this world, all power revolves around blood. Blood is the source, the root… the origin of everything. There are different types of blood, and the lineages are its continuation. A person is born with a bloodline inherited from their parents, varying in strength depending on how pure that blood is. The purer the blood… the greater the talent."
"There are nine original bloodlines. Only nine. They are one hundred percent pure. Each is safeguarded by one of the Nine Great Families, and each family controls a portion of the world."
"The layer we're in now—the Lower District—is ruled by no one. Only by us… the guardians."
"Above us lies the Middle District. The Gray Quarter, where commoners and laborers live, those with ordinary bloodlines… and the White City, home to the elite and the Great Families."
He paused for a moment, then added:
"As for forbidden bloodlines… those are outcasts. Forgotten. Erased from history."
Kael listened carefully… it wasn't hard to understand, but it didn't answer the most important questions burning inside him. He remembered that dream—standing among nine figures, blood beneath his feet. Could it be related to these bloodlines?
He asked in a cold whisper:
"What about the gates? The Blood Shades? The Blood Law itself?"
The man nodded respectfully before replying:
"The Gates come from an era older than this world—ancient remnants of time. They are divided into three categories:
Inheritance Gates: Belonging to the Nine Great Families, where their pure bloodlines are sealed. Only those of their blood may enter.
Great Blood Gates: No one knows how many exist. They only open to those whose bloodlines are linked to them, putting the person through a deadly trial set by the Shadows. If they survive… their bloodline is refined and they are granted special abilities.
World Gates: Almost nothing is known about them. It is said that entering one can reshape the world's laws. Each of these is guarded by a being chosen directly by the Blood Law itself."
Then he gestured behind him to the massive door:
"This gate you see… is the Gate of the Blood Law. And I, Tharamis, have been its chosen guardian for hundreds of years."
Kael froze. He began to absorb it all slowly… but the sadness in Tharamis's eyes caught his attention.
Before he could ask about it, the man broke the silence and asked him:
"Tell me, child… your bloodline has awakened. Do you know your ability? Or the name it calls you by?"
Kael thought for a moment… he wasn't entirely sure, but he answered with quiet confidence:
"I don't know my ability yet… but the voice always calls me Zek'arun."
Silence fell.
Tharamis looked at the Silent Keeper, and for a moment, even his stern face betrayed a flicker of shock.
He spoke slowly, as if recalling something ancient:
"Zek'arun…? Do you know what that name means?"
Kael shook his head. "No."
Tharamis sighed deeply:
"It's in the Old Language of Blood. It means… Son of the Bloody Forgotten."
Before Kael could reply, the man gestured to him and said:
"Come closer… let me examine your ability."
Kael sat silently in front of Tharamis, his face unreadable. There was no fear in his eyes. The massive man extended his hand toward the boy's chest to sense his bloodline…
But then, he froze.
There was no energy.
No pulse.
No core.
Not even resistance.
It was like touching a bottomless abyss.
And before he could try again…
A voice erupted.
It wasn't Kael's.
It was something else—low, guttural, steeped in something that defied naming.
The voice came from Kael's mouth… but it didn't belong to him.
"Do you dare… touch my bloodline, Tharamis?"
The man flinched and pulled back his hand, as if burned by flame. He turned toward the Silent Keeper, whose stitched mouth remained still, but his glowing eyes widened. The pulses around him trembled.
Tharamis muttered in disbelief:
"No… it can't be… not you…"
Kael remained seated, but something moved inside him. A shadow… born from silence.
"What are you doing here?" Tharamis asked, his voice trembling.
Kael—or whatever now spoke through him—smiled wide, a smile that wasn't his, and replied in a voice deeper than hell:
"Isn't it time I claimed what's mine?"
Tharamis stepped back involuntarily. The Silent Keeper raised a hand, cautiously—but no pulse followed.
"Your time is over!" Tharamis snapped, as if trying to convince himself.
But the reply came calmly, like a slap:
"Whose time, my old friend? Yours… or your chains'?"
Tharamis froze.
His face, once unshakable, cracked. He looked behind him at the gate… then down at the mark etched on his arm.
Chains.
A bloodbound seal.
He knew… even if he wanted to interfere, he couldn't.
The being within Kael turned to him and sneered:
"Stay with your fate, gatekeeper. Guard your door like a good little slave… and leave me to my path."
He sighed—without mercy.
"As for this child… he's not yours. He won't belong to anyone. He is mine."
Then, glancing at the Silent Keeper, he said without sound:
"Tell him to forget what he saw… or be ready to lose it."
And then… he vanished.
Just like that.
Kael sat back down, breathing heavily… as if nothing had happened. He didn't remember a thing.
He looked at Tharamis and asked calmly:
"So… did you find out my ability?"
Tharamis didn't answer immediately. His eyes were still caught in the void.
Finally… he smiled. A smile impossible to read.
"No. But…"
He reached into his cloak and pulled out a golden token, engraved with symbols etched in blood:
"Take this… go to the eastern edge of the Gray Quarter. There… you'll find the answers you seek."