He stood there with the sa steady presence he had walked in with, as if nothing in the castle—not the elders scattering behind Luther, not the guards whispering, not the faint pulse behind the isolation door—mattered more than the single sentence he had spoken.
"I am here to see my son."
Luther stared at him, jaw tightening as he took in the man’s face again, this ti without brushing it off. Up close, Eleazar looked nothing like the usual intruders that stumbled into vampire territory and begged for their lives. There was no fear in his eyes, no arrogance either—just a calm certainty that didn’t belong to a human. Luther had lived long enough to know the look of soone who believed they had the right to stand anywhere in the universe.
"You are either insane," Luther said, voice low and steady, "or you truly have no idea where you’re standing."
Eleazar finally t his gaze. "I know exactly where I am standing."
"Then you must also know," Luther continued, "that humans do not enter this land. Even kings and generals of your kind require approval. You walked in alone, without fear, without backup, without hesitation. And you expect to believe you ca here simply because a boy inside this chamber is your son?"
Eleazar nodded once. "Yes."
Luther let out a short, humorless laugh. "I did so digging of Xavier’s background. His records show nothing about a father. Nothing. Not a na, not a trace. He grew up like a stray who clawed his way through life’s gutter, and his life changed a few months ago when he got the scholarship to the Astraeus academy. And now you appear—calm, composed, and stronger than any human I’ve seen—and claim him as your own. You expect to believe that?"
Eleazar didn’t raise his voice, didn’t step forward. He spoke plainly, almost tiredly. "You can ask your daughter. She knows ."
Luther narrowed his eyes. "That is not an answer."
"It’s the only one you will get today," Eleazar replied. "Because the only thing that matters right now is him."
Luther was about to snap back when Eleazar lifted his hand—not sharply, not threateningly, just a slow upward motion as if he were brushing away dust. A warmth spread from his palm, soft at first, then deeper, a strange pulse that washed over the sealed door of the isolation chamber. It seeped into the cracks of the stone, brushed against the ancient runes, and Luther felt the echo of it inside his chest.
Eleazar lowered his hand again as if nothing had happened. "He is alive. Barely. But alive."
Luther didn’t move. The elders behind him whispered among themselves, unease rising. No human should be able to project anything inside the isolation chamber, let alone sense the condition of the person inside.
Luther’s voice was harder now. "What exactly are you?"
"A father," Eleazar said. "One who is out of ti... and very late."
"You speak in riddles," Luther snapped.
"I speak plainly," Eleazar corrected. "You just don’t like the answers."
Luther stepped closer, face inches from Eleazar’s. "Understand this. I don’t care if you’re his father or a stranger off the streets. Xavier is under my authority now. His condition is unstable, and we do not know what creature he is becoming. Letting another human near him—especially one like you—could turn this entire castle into a disaster."
Eleazar didn’t blink. "Disaster already struck the mont he awakened."
That hit Luther. For a mont, neither spoke.
Then Eleazar added quietly, "I am not asking for your permission. But I am not here to cause harm either. I want to see him. That is all."
Luther exhaled slowly, the tension in his jaw easing only slightly. "And what do you think you can do for him? You have no idea what happened to him. What monstrosity he turned into. Even our best healers cannot wake him up."
Eleazar’s expression didn’t change. "I am not here to heal him. I don’t posses such power."
Luther frowned. "...Then what?"
Eleazar’s eyes shifted toward the door again—filled with sothing Luther couldn’t decipher, sothing like regret woven with a deeper heaviness.
"I am here," Eleazar said, "to make sure he survives the part he’s not ready for."
For the first ti in a long ti, Luther felt sothing cold settle across his spine—a feeling he had not known since childhood.
Fear.
Not of Eleazar.
But of what he might be telling the truth about.
Before Luther could answer, Eleazar stepped aside—not to advance, not to threaten, but simply waiting for Luther to decide if was going to let him see Xavier..
Luther held his gaze for a long mont.
"This conversation is not finished," Luther said.
"Of course not," Eleazar replied. "It’s only the beginning."
The mont stretched but didn’t break. Luther stood still, weighing the man in front of him—this human who didn’t carry himself like any human Luther had ever seen. Then, before either of them could speak, hurried footsteps echoed through the corridor. Voices layered over each other, thick with panic and accusation.
"Lord Von Stein!"
"Your Majesty—step away!"
"He’s the one who put our guards down—!"
"Who knows what kind of dirty trick he is using. You should be careful, my Lord!"
The elders poured into the hallway, their cloaks dragging against the broken stone and their eyes burning with outrage. The high-rank guards followed, wings half-spread, claws unsheathed, ready to attack on command. They’d expected to find so trembling human cornered against a wall. Instead, they froze.
Eleazar didn’t look at them. His hands stayed calmly behind his back, posture straight, gaze fixed on the sealed chamber door as if the shouting wasn’t even directed at him. That stillness only stoked the elders’ fury.
One of the elders stepped forward, his voice shaking with rage. "Human, kneel. You’re standing in sacred halls you have no right to—"
"I..." He let out a sigh, almost sounding tired. "... kneel to no one except my goddess."
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