“Have you ever fought him in the Blood Arena?” Amal asked.
Kalon nodded. “Twice. He yielded every time.”
“He was lucky,” Valaine said. “If he’d met you in the final, you would’ve killed him.”
“I warned him not to get into it,” Kalon said. “Let’s leave it at that, Valaine. Our guests are not yet ready to hear us airing our dirty laundry.”
Derek chuckled. “Actually, we love a good family drama once in a while.”
“Forget about that. Tell me about Cruor,” he said. “I’m curious. What’s it like? You mentioned darkness and evil, but I’m having a hard time picturing that place.”
Sofia took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she tried to find the right words to describe Cruor. I’d only heard the tales; I’d never been there myself. Had I been born an immune, like my grandmother, I probably would’ve found a way to sneak out of The Shade and into Cruor to see if I could reverse the condition even if the Elders were no longer there. Chances were that Esme would’ve come with me.
“It’s a dark place, like we said, and the sky is covered in a thick, almost reddish mist. As soon as you set foot in that place, you know it. You can feel it seeping into your bones, like a disease. The pure malevolence of… I’m not sure what, exactly. But you know… deep down, you know. There was suffering there for a very long time. So awful, so intense, it became embedded into the very fabric of Cruor,” Sofia said, vivid memories stirring her.
I got shivers down my spine just from listening to her account. Valaine frowned, while Kalon’s eyes were wide, as if he’d just heard one of the greatest horror stories ever told. “And the Elders?” he asked. “You said they had no form.”
“Their essence could creep up and take over one’s body. Possessing them. Feeding on blood through them. They were capable of causing great harm… a lot of suffering,” Derek said.
“So, how did the Aeternae come to be?” Esme asked, looking at Kalon and Valaine. “Since you said the high priestess isn’t that much of a sharer, I assume she knows, but she didn’t want to tell us.”
Kalon shot her a sly grin. “You catch on quick.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Valaine told him, then gave Esme an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for any trouble Kalon might have caused you. He’s been like this since he was a child. A troublemaker, a silver-tongued mischief-stirrer.”
“A handsome silver-tongued mischief-stirrer, thank you,” Kalon retorted. “And the Aeternae, dear Esme… they developed. They used to be weaker, living maybe a hundred or two hundred years, if they were lucky. We don’t know when the change happened, but we know we did not say no to it. We’ve embraced our nature fully.”
“Yes, that much we can see for ourselves,” Esme replied, motioning to the many trophies around us.
Looking back now, I suspected that a sentry wouldn’t have been able to help us here. If the Aeternae were genetically related to the vampires, then a sentry couldn’t read their emotions to detect any form of deception. I thought of this because I was dying to know what was going through Kalon and Valaine’s heads. Their personalities struck me as drastically different—Valaine was reserved and polite, and I was willing to bet she could pack a mean, even deadly punch. Kalon had the makings of an arrogant young noble, though I did appreciate his sense of humor.
He seemed more relaxed when not in the presence of his mother.
We moved from the trophy room into the library, an enormous hall with hundreds of rows, each loaded with leather-bound manuscripts and ancient scrolls. Candles flickered in the silvery chandeliers hanging overhead. The wood paneling and the shelves had a reddish hue, each surface polished almost obsessively, given how light reflected everywhere.
Stained-glass windows from the floor to the ceiling made sure that there was natural light here throughout the day—an abundance of filtered sunshine for visitors to enjoy as they read the hundreds of thousands of volumes held in this place.
Study tables interrupted the shelf rows, creating a harmonious pattern of furniture in a room big enough to host a football game. This hall, alone, was enormous.
“What about the causes of death among the Aeternae?” Amal asked after a long moment of silence, which we’d spent admiring the splendor around us. “The high priestess mentioned the timeless classics, including accidental decapitations and burnings, and the tournaments, among other things. But, I must admit, the numbers don’t quite add up.”
Valaine went blank for a moment. Kalon was caught off guard, his blue eyes wide enough to resemble oversized sapphire marbles. “What do you mean?” he replied, likely stalling until he could find a good answer.
We’d waded into sensitive territory again.
“I understand accidents. Some Aeternae’s decision to end their own lives. I can even accept mass deaths in the Blood Arena, as you called it,” Amal explained. “Executions alone don’t account for such a considerable death rate. There are too few of you now, taking the above into account, even if your birth rates are abysmal.”
“Oh, you are good,” Kalon breathed.
“There’s a reason we brought her along with us,” Nethissis replied, her lips stretching into a satisfied grin.
Valaine let a deep breath roll out of her chest. “I suppose no one mentioned the Black Fever.”
“The Black Fever?” I asked.
Kalon shook his head slowly, leaning into one of the bookshelves. “It’s not something we openly talk about. Not even among ourselves,” he muttered.
“What is it, exactly?” Esme replied.
“We don’t know much about it,” Valaine said. “It’s a disease that only affects the Aeternae. It blackens the blood. It destroys everything on the inside. It kills millions over the span of a week, if it’s not detected in time.”
“How does it spread?” I asked.
“There are a number of books on the topic here in the library. If the lord and lady supreme allow it, I will show them to you,” she replied. “But, in short, it’s carried through the blood of Rimians and Naloreans. It takes a long time, up to a month, for the symptoms to manifest. The worst part is that we don’t know which of them are carriers, since they never get sick themselves. Only the Aeternae die from it.”
“Have you tested them?” Sofia wondered.
“We tried. But every single Rimian and Nalorean that was tested over the years came up negative,” Kalon said. “It’s why it’s been so tricky to permanently root out. The thing is, it doesn’t persist. It comes in waves, every ten thousand years or so. For now, we’re in the clear, since the last time it spread was five millennia ago.”
“It’s deadly to our kind,” Valaine reiterated. “So, if you were wondering about the population ratios here, I figure you’ve got your answer now.”
Amal nodded slowly. “It’s a little grim, to be honest. And you haven’t been able to develop a cure at all?”
Kalon and Valaine both shook their heads. “Not for lack of trying. The disease is so quick not only to infect, but also to consume and disappear. By the time it’s done with an Aeternae, there’s nothing left but black dust. No trace of any living or even defunct organisms anywhere. It’s like we’re turned to dust,” Valaine said.
“Then why haven’t you let the Rimians and Naloreans be?” I asked. “Why not find another solution to your sustenance?”
The question drew Valaine’s ire. “Are you joking? Renounce the very blood that gives us life and strength, because of a few bad apples? No. That’s unacceptable. We cannot subsist on animal blood alone. It weakens us. It opens us up to attacks from Rimian and Nalorean rebels who have yet to let go of the fact that they are part of our empire now.”
