The great hall remained submerged in a suffocating silence.
The music had ceased.
The goblets remained forgotten upon the tables.
None of the nobles dared utter a single word.
Their eyes remained fixed on the same place.
Alaric was kneeling upon the marble.
Lucien remained supported in his arms.
One hand firmly held his back.
The other rested upon his son's hair.
As if refusing to allow him to collapse before everyone.
Dark blood slowly ran from the corner of Lucien's lips.
Another thin stream descended from his nose.
The veins beneath his skin became more and more visible.
Black.
Like living roots.
Each new breath seemed more difficult than the last.
His chest rose violently.
The air entered.
But it never seemed enough.
His fingers clung tightly to his father's clothes.
As if that were the only thing keeping his body from falling into the darkness.
"Father..."
The voice came out low.
Almost unrecognizable.
Lucien tried to continue.
"I... I..."
"Cough...!"
His body was seized by a violent fit of coughing.
"Cough...!"
Black blood spread across Alaric's chest.
Some drops slowly ran down his clothes.
Lucien's eyes turned toward his father.
There was fear.
Confusion.
Like the eyes of a child who no longer understood his own suffering.
Alaric held him even tighter.
His fingers slowly ran through his hair.
"No..."
The voice came out low.
Gentle.
"Don't speak."
His eyes remained locked onto his son's.
"Save your strength."
Lucien tried to answer.
His lungs refused to obey him.
Only another irregular breath escaped his lips.
Alaric brought his face a little closer.
As if he could protect him simply by remaining there.
"The priests are already coming."
For a brief moment...
His own voice faltered.
Almost imperceptibly.
Soon, he returned to stroking his son's hair.
"You're going to be alright."
The sentence came out like a promise.
Or perhaps...
Like a plea.
Seraphyne's gaze remained fixed upon Alaric.
Slowly stroking Lucien's hair.
"This..."
Seraphyne's voice came out low.
Controlled.
"Does not seem like an ordinary illness."
Valerion turned his eyes toward the Queen.
"It is still too early for any conclusion."
Seraphyne held his gaze.
"Even so..."
The Queen's fingers rested softly upon the stem of her goblet.
"For an heir of the Marquisate to fall like this..."
A brief pause.
"...during a reception offered by the Crown."
Valerion's expression remained serene.
"It would be wise to discover what truly happened."
A brief pause.
"Only then will we decide which measures must be taken."
A discreet smile appeared on Seraphyne's lips.
Almost imperceptible.
"Naturally."
Valerion looked away.
His eyes found Cassian.
A brief movement of the head was enough.
Cassian understood immediately.
He discreetly lowered his head.
Then, he took a step backward.
Soon, he quietly disappeared from the hall.
Almost at the same instant...
The great doors of the hall opened abruptly.
The sound echoed between the stone pillars.
White robes crossed the great hall quickly.
Priests.
Four of them.
The eldest walked at the front.
Two knights in white armor followed the group a few steps behind.
The priest's eyes immediately found Alaric.
A single glance was enough.
The expression on his face became grave.
Without slowing his pace, he approached quickly.
The other three priests followed him in absolute silence.
Upon reaching the Marquis, the eldest priest knelt before Lucien.
His eyes quickly traveled across the black blood.
The dark veins.
The irregular breathing.
For a brief moment...
His expression hardened.
"My Lord..."
The voice came out respectful.
Calm.
But carrying urgency.
"We need space."
His eyes returned to Lucien.
"Lay him on the floor."
"Now."
Alaric hesitated for only a moment.
His arms pulled his son against his chest one final time.
As if refusing to let him go.
Then...
With all the care he could gather...
He laid Lucien upon the cold marble of the great hall.
His hand remained holding his for a few seconds.
Soon, it withdrew.
The four priests positioned themselves around Lucien.
Their staffs slowly touched the floor.
Toc.
Toc.
Toc.
Toc.
A golden glow spread around Lucien.
Until a great circle of light formed.
Golden lines intertwined with one another.
Ancient symbols slowly revolved around his body.
Small fragments of light rose from the circle.
Like golden embers carried by the wind.
Ancient runes began to emerge beneath his feet.
The eldest priest closed his eyes.
His voice echoed serenely through the hall.
"May the Primeval Light pass through all corruption..."
The other three joined their voices.
"May Order silence all impurity."
The light intensified.
"May the breath of the gods reach this soul."
The four slowly raised their staffs.
"Lux Aeterna..."
A column of golden light slowly descended upon Lucien.
For a brief moment...
Nothing happened.
Then...
The young man's body arched violently.
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!"
The scream tore through the great hall.
His back lifted from the ground.
His hands clenched against his own chest.
The black veins spread even faster beneath his skin.
Like living serpents.
"STOP!!"
His voice no longer sounded human.
"P-PLEASE...!!"
The priests maintained the ritual.
The light continued descending.
The circle spun faster and faster.
The runes shone intensely.
Lucien screamed again.
"AAAAAAAAAAHHH!!"
"IT HURTS!!"
"I CAN'T TAKE IT!!"
Alaric instinctively took a step forward.
One of the knights in white armor discreetly raised an arm before him.
Not to stop him.
But because he understood that interrupting the ritual at that moment could be even worse.
The column of light became more intense.
At that same instant...
Black blood escaped Lucien's lips once more.
In far greater quantity than before.
The black veins pulsed violently.
As if responding to the light itself.
The eldest priest's eyes opened suddenly.
There was surprise in them.
His gaze immediately met those of the other priests.
All of them had noticed the same thing.
With every new wave of divine energy...
The reaction became more violent.
The eldest priest abruptly raised his hand.
"Stop!"
The chants ceased immediately.
The golden column disappeared.
The magic circle shattered into hundreds of luminous particles.
Silence fell over the hall once more.
Only Lucien's irregular breathing remained.
And the faint sound of his pain.
The priest remained motionless for a few moments.
Watching Lucien.
Soon...
He slowly lowered his staff.
The silence became even heavier.
None of the nobles dared breathe too loudly.
Their eyes remained fixed upon the young Marquis.
Lucien trembled slightly.
Each breath seemed to tear away a little more of his strength.
The eldest priest knelt beside him once more.
His fingers carefully rested upon his pulse.
He closed his eyes.
For a few moments...
He only listened.
Felt.
Soon, he slowly withdrew his hand.
His expression had lost all hope.
Alaric took a step forward.
His voice came out firm.
But burdened with an anxiety impossible to hide.
"What does my son have?"
The priest remained silent.
His eyes turned toward Lucien.
Then toward the other priests.
None of them had an answer.
At last...
He faced the Marquis once more.
"We do not know."
Those two words seemed to freeze the hall.
The priest took a deep breath before continuing.
"We have never witnessed a reaction like this."
His eyes returned to Lucien.
"Every sacred energy we try to channel..."
A brief pause.
"...is immediately repelled."
His eyes narrowed.
"No."
He corrected himself.
"Consumed."
"The more we try to purify him..."
His voice became even lower.
"...the more violent the reaction becomes."
Alaric remained motionless.
His eyes never left his son.
"Then..."
His voice failed for a moment.
"Find another way."
The priest slowly closed his eyes.
"My Lord..."
"I order it."
Alaric's voice echoed through the hall.
Firm.
Authoritative.
The priest held his gaze.
Without challenging him.
Without retreating.
Only carrying the weight of the answer he needed to give.
"If we perform another ritual..."
A brief pause.
"We will only prolong his pain."
"Each attempt will increase your son's suffering."
The words fell like a sentence.
"We will not be trying to save his life..."
"We will only make his final moments even crueler."
The silence became absolute.
That was when a low groan broke through the hall.
"F... father..."
Lucien slowly turned his face.
His eyes were filled with tears.
His breathing came out broken.
His entire body trembled.
A tear slowly ran down his face.
"Father..."
His fingers slowly moved toward Alaric.
With almost no strength left.
"I..."
His voice failed.
Another painful breath.
Another tear.
Then, almost in a whisper...
"I can't take it anymore..."
Alaric slowly approached him.
Then, he knelt before Lucien.
His hand rested upon his son's.
His lips moved.
But no words managed to pass through them.
The eldest priest discreetly lowered his head.
The other three did the same.
None of them dared break that silence.
Lucien struggled to breathe once more.
His chest rose.
And fell.
More and more slowly.
His tearful eyes remained upon his father.
"Father..."
His voice was barely more than a whisper.
"It..."
A breath failed.
Another tear ran down his face.
"It hurts..."
Lucien weakly tightened his fingers around Alaric's.
"Father..."
A small, sad smile appeared upon his lips.
Alaric closed his eyes for a brief moment.
When he opened them again...
"I... understand."
The voice came out low.
Hoarse.
Almost without strength.
His forehead gently rested against Lucien's.
"You have endured enough pain already."
The voice barely rose above a whisper.
His fingers gently squeezed Lucien's hand.
Then...
Alaric slowly raised his head.
His gaze met one of the nearby knights.
No words were necessary.
The man understood.
He approached in absolute silence.
He stopped before the Marquis.
With both hands...
He offered him his own sword.
Alaric remained motionless for a few seconds.
Then...
He slowly closed his hand around the hilt of the weapon.
The steel left the sheath with a low sound.
Heavy.
Almost solemn.
The blade reflected the flames of the fireplaces.
Alaric turned his eyes toward Lucien.
The tears finally broke through his resolve.
They ran silently down his face.
He slowly raised the sword.
His hand trembled.
Lucien looked at his own father.
Then...
His eyes slowly moved to the blade.
The blade descended.
In a single movement.
Precise.
The sound of steel passing through flesh echoed through the hall.
No noble dared breathe.
No priest looked away.
Lucien's eyes remained fixed upon his father.
Slowly...
The pain disappeared from his face.
His fingers lost their strength.
His hand fell lifelessly.
The final tear silently ran down his face.
Alaric remained kneeling.
For a few moments...
There was no reaction.
The sword slowly slipped from his fingers.
Clang...
The steel met the marble.
The sound echoed through the entire hall.
Alaric slid one hand beneath his son's body.
The other carefully supported his head.
As if he still feared hurting him.
Then...
He lifted Lucien into his arms.
Slowly.
With the same care with which a father holds his child for the first time.
Not a single muscle in his face moved.
The tears continued falling.
Silent.
Alaric began to walk.
One step.
Then another.
When he reached the center of the great hall...
He stopped.
Without turning his face.
"Your Majesty..."
His voice echoed firmly.
"Forgive me for withdrawing from this reception before its conclusion."
A brief pause.
"The circumstances no longer allow me to remain."
His voice became cold.
"As for the one responsible..."
His fingers gently tightened around his son's body.
"I trust that the North will honor its oldest law."
"Blood..."
The silence weighed heavily for a moment.
"For blood."
Without waiting for any answer...
Alaric resumed his steps.
None of the guards present dared stop him.
And before the silence of the entire North...
He left the great hall carrying, in his arms...
The body of his son.
Valerion remained motionless.
His eyes still fixed upon the exit of the great hall.
Only when Alaric had completely disappeared into the corridor...
He slowly rose from the throne.
"The banquet is over."
A brief pause.
His gaze slowly traveled across every noble present.
"May the death of this young man never be forgotten."
The silence remained absolute.
"And may each person present here remember..."
His eyes became heavier.
"That every choice carries a price."
No one answered.
No noble dared remain in the hall.
Little by little...
The tables began to empty.
The priests departed silently.
The knights returned to their posts.
Seraphyne rose from her throne.
She stopped beside Valerion.
Their eyes remained fixed upon the figures crossing the exit of the hall.
A small smile appeared upon her lips.
Difficult to interpret.
"Some wounds..."
Her voice came out low.
Elegant.
"Never accept forgiveness..."
A brief pause.
"Only retribution."
Valerion did not answer.
She began descending the raised platform.
Before reaching the final step...
Her voice echoed through the hall once more.
"Tonight has ended any possibility of peace."
Then, she walked toward the exit.
Moments later...
Her footsteps slowly disappeared into the corridor.
Valerion remained alone.
Motionless.
Watching the empty great hall.