The Color of Nothingness
"Stand still, Young Master Luthian. Please... just one more moment."
Hilda's fingers were trembling. Normally, they were steady as they worked among lace and buttons. Today, they struggled with the last silver clasp. I could feel her short breaths against my neck.
"Hilda, I'm itchy all over! It's too tight, I can't breathe properly," I complained, trying to wriggle free of her grasp.
"Can't I wear the soft wool one? I want to go play in the gardens."
She suddenly froze.
She gave me a sharp flick on the forehead with her fingers. Then she stepped in front of me and took my face in her hands. Her palms were cold, and I could feel the hardness of her calluses beneath her fingers.
She looked into my eyes and said nothing for a moment. Her gaze was so intense that I felt my chest tighten. My heart was pounding. Without thinking, I reached my arms toward her and clung to her in a hug.
"No playing today, Young Master. You must be perfect," she whispered into my ear.
She tried to reassure me by holding me tightly.
"Make sure you show them who you are out there!"
I nodded slowly, swallowing the knot in my throat.
Hilda sprang to her feet, sniffing back her tears. She looked proud, and somehow, that was enough for me. In an instant, she composed herself, becoming the strict and inflexible nanny she had always been.
"Marta! Grete!" she called toward the open door. Two young maids who often did odd jobs in my room hurried inside, their heads bowed. "Escort Young Master Luthian to the entrance of the Lunar Hall. A guard is waiting for him there. Understood?"
"Yes, Lady Hilda," they whispered in unison, taking their places at my sides like two silent sentinels.
Hilda quickly adjusted my collar and firmly turned me toward the exit.
"Go now, Young Master. And keep your head high... Whatever happens."
I heard a rustle behind me, a soft, gentle breeze brushing the back of my neck.
Why did her voice...? I spun around with a knot in my stomach.
"Hil-..."
But she was already gone. I could never get used to that habit of hers. Sometimes she simply disappeared without leaving any explanation. I didn't even understand how she did it. One moment she was there, and the next, she was gone.
"Young Master, if we don't move, we'll be late."
"Mhm!" I nodded. "Couldn't Hilda come?"
"She had some urgent matters to attend to and entrusted this task to us. Please don't worry, Young Master, and try to relax. We still have a long walk before we reach the hall."
I clung to the skirt of the woman on my right. She placed a hand on my back, smiling at me as she guided me along.
We left my apartments and headed toward the spire, whose entrance was located on the palace's first floor. It certainly wasn't a short journey.
We had to descend two floors, cross the reception hall, and then climb another flight of stairs before reaching the corridor.
It was chaos.
Servants ran from one side to the other carrying trays and candles. Whenever they saw me, they lowered their heads and quickened their pace. As if simply looking at me were enough to bring bad luck.
It had always been that way, for as long as I could remember.
The tunic, on the other hand, I knew all too well. It squeezed my neck, and the stiff fabric rubbed against my skin with every movement. It was the same one they made me wear during the most important receptions, when the palace filled with nobles.
Whenever I wore it, it meant I had to appear before someone.
My feet trembled with anxiety as I walked.
Ron, Dan, I just hope I make it in time. Wait for me!
I clenched my fists and took a deep breath.
We reached the first floor and crossed the private gardens. The air was thick with the scent of roses and flowers, a delicate fragrance that contrasted with the turmoil I felt inside.
We continued until we entered the spire, where the largest hall in the entire palace was located.
The Lunar Hall.
The doors to the hall were enormous, and the silence hanging over that dimly lit place sent an even greater chill through me from head to toe.
I had only been to that part of the palace a few times and, from what little I knew, it was completely off-limits. Even approaching it was forbidden.
The two maids stopped in front of the great doors, handing me over to a large-built guard.
Today, the place was packed with guards. Judging by the number of people present, the reason was obvious.
The long-awaited day of the test had finally arrived.
And yet, I still couldn't quite grasp it.
The doors to the Lunar Hall swung inward with a heavy metallic groan, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
I was flooded by the warmth and glow of the suspended fires, along with the countless voices coming from inside.
It was the complete opposite of the world outside.
My breathing grew heavier. The guard escorting me stopped, planting one boot firmly against the black marble.
"Luthian Stahl Eisenhart enters the glorious Lunar Hall!"
A shiver of terror and awe halted every thought in my head. I felt something touch my back and jumped. The guard gestured for me to head to the right.
A long line of children stretched out before me. Farther ahead, to their right, stood several more rows of knights and guards.
I started walking, making my way to the back of the group.
At least I'm not among the first. I let out a sigh of relief.
It didn't last long.
When I turned toward the left side of the hall, I realized that everyone's eyes were fixed on me.
I turned my gaze toward the center, and blinding light struck me from the enormous table in the middle, reflecting the flames suspended above the hall.
Waiting for us on top of it, folded with meticulous care, were the Aether Veils.
My uncle, Szilard Stahl Eisenhart, stood imposingly beside the table. But the real, oppressive source of pressure came from the raised platform at the far end of the hall.
Vorgath Stahl Eisenhart.
My father.
He sat upon the throne with his left leg bent and resting on it, his posture relaxed and almost arrogant. His face rested against one arm, while his other hand hung from the armrest. His impassive gaze swept across the hall. His mere presence made the air heavy, almost difficult to breathe, at least for me.
All the children in front of me stood silently, motionless as statues. Only the low murmurs of the nobles talking among themselves echoed through the hall.
The house chancellor stepped forward beside my father. He bowed before him, then descended the few steps leading to the central table. Once he reached it, he turned toward the hall and waited for a moment.
Murmurs and voices continued to fill the room.
The chancellor cleared his throat and slightly raised the parchment he had pulled from his cloak.
"My lords, today's test..."
His voice was drowned out by the chatter. He tried repeating the first words, this time in a firmer tone, but it made no difference.
That was when I looked at my father as he lowered the hand supporting his head.
He raised one finger slightly, then lowered it after a few moments.
The chatter stopped instantly.
Silence slowly settled over the Lunar Hall. The last voices echoed for a few seconds before dying away completely.
The chancellor lowered his gaze slightly, as if he had been waiting for exactly that moment. He cleared his throat again.
"In the presence of the nobles gathered here, I officially declare open the magic test reserved for five-year-old children of the prestigious houses of Wistria."
A murmur rippled through the hall.
"As announced some time ago, this year's test will employ a new method of detecting mana. The Aether Veils will be used, capable of perceiving its presence within the body. Their use will ensure a safer and more reliable detection method than those employed in previous years."
He paused briefly.
"The test will be supervised by Szilard, Court Archmage."
My uncle stepped forward.
"One at a time," Szilard said, his flat voice echoing among the columns.
"Approach. Prostrate yourselves before our Lord. And grasp the Veil."
Szilard met my gaze and gave me a brief nod.
Today is the most important day. After all those lessons... can't I be a little calmer?
I swallowed and clenched my hands at my sides, trying not to think about what would happen.
The test had already begun.
One by one, the children who were called stepped out of the line. They advanced with uncertain steps and stiff shoulders. When they reached the silk, they hesitated before placing their hands upon it. From where I stood, I could barely make out their trembling fingers against the fabric. Some closed their eyes and pressed their lips together, while others remained perfectly still, waiting.
Then the silk began to change.
Sometimes a simple touch was enough to turn it blue. Other times, only faint reddish hues appeared.
My father remained completely impassive, regardless of the result.
The more I focused on his eyes, the more they seemed like two dark stones fixed upon some distant point beyond the heads of those present, devoid of any trace of genuine interest.
Before I realized it, the line had already been cut in half.
Those deemed worthy were welcomed by their families, who, thanks to a special permit, greeted the Duke before hurrying out of the palace. I was the last in line. I clenched my fists at my sides, keeping my eyes fixed on the polished floor.
It's almost my turn.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes for a moment.
My brothers often repeated a phrase at times like this, so often that I knew it by heart. Sometimes they said it as a joke, but other times it really did give you the boost you needed.
I am an Eisenhart. My blood is power.
A shiver ran down my spine.
It worked! I smiled briefly.
"Luthian," Szilard called.
I jolted and opened my eyes. The effect was exactly the opposite.
After those words, an almost unnatural silence settled over the hall. I tried to move, but for a few moments I was paralyzed. The nobles' chatter from the stands grew louder, like a swarm of crazed wasps. Everyone's eyes were fixed on me.
I took a deep breath and stepped out of the line, approaching the table. The incense smoke stung my throat and made me nauseous.
The biting cold of the stone seeped through the thin soles of my little leather shoes.
Szilard stared at me for what felt like an eternity. I tried to look as natural as possible and raised my eyes toward the throne.
Toward my father, meeting his two dark irises.
I lowered my head, certain that I was performing the bow correctly. But as soon as I began to bend, something felt wrong. The movement was stiffer than I had expected, and for a moment I lost my balance.
"I-I am Luthian Stahl Eisenhart," I stammered.
The nobles' murmurs grew sharper, tinged with ridicule. I knew I had made a pitiful impression, unworthy of someone who carried the blood of the kingdom's most prestigious house.
As I tried to compose myself, I cast one last glance at my father.
He was a statue of ice.
"Grasp it."
Szilard's command cut through the air, silencing every whisper.
I placed my hand on the Veil.
The words he had repeated during my lessons came back to me.
"You must imagine a warmth flowing from your chest down your arm, until you push it out through your palm."
I closed my eyes, trying with all my might to find that warmth. A few seconds passed.
Nothing.
All I felt was the knot in my throat and the cramp in my stomach constricting my breath.
Why can't I feel anything!?
For the others, simply touching it for a few seconds had been enough for it to react immediately.
I tried a second time in a rush. I inhaled deeply and pushed the air downward with all my strength. But once again, I felt nothing flowing beneath my palm.
A few drops of sweat began to slide down my forehead. The Veil remained cold and inert. A sense of absolute emptiness, a void, rose from my wrist, sending chills through me.
I tightened my grip on the fabric.
I waited.
Absolutely nothing happened.
"Why?" The word escaped my lips in a broken whisper.
Panic began clawing at the walls of my stomach.
I just have to try harder.
I clenched my fingers around the silky cloth until my knuckles turned white, until I could feel the tendons in my forearm straining with the effort.
No reaction from the Veil.
The entire Lunar Hall fell so silent that I could hear nothing but the crackling sparks of the suspended fires above me.
White was not among the expected colors.
I heard them.
Like the sickening buzz of flies over a carcass.
"White...?"
"Impossible... it didn't react."
"The Veil is... But he's Lord Vo-... son's legitimate son..."
I looked desperately at my uncle, silently pleading for a logical explanation. He closed his eyes and turned away, avoiding my gaze.
No...
Tears began to sting my eyes, slow and burning, as I looked around in the grip of pure panic.
Dozens of faces stared down at me from the galleries, all wearing the exact same expression of pure, unadulterated disgust.
That was when I heard a light, faint laugh coming from somewhere among the nobles. From the corner of my eye, I saw a chubby man trying to hide a smile behind his fingers.
"W-why...?" I whispered, whimpering.
Then my father's voice cut through the air, grave and final.
"Tsk... You."
My heart stopped.
Father...
I snapped my head up, my breath caught in my throat. But Vorgath's gaze was not fixed on the table or on me.
It was directed toward the side stands. The color drained from his face in a fraction of a second. The guard took a step forward, visibly trembling beneath his armor.
"M-My lord... Lord-d Vorgath... I didn't mean-"
Vorgath did not rise from the throne. He did not shout or order him to be silent. He simply raised his left hand.
The air in the room collapsed.
My tears dried up instantly as a monstrous physical pressure crushed my shoulders downward, forcing me to bend my knees.
Ghk... What's happening?
"It's all that guard's fault!" said a chubby man, his face flushed and a smile still playing on his lips. He struggled to speak, pointing at the kneeling man a short distance away. "He dared to laugh in the presence of the Duke!"
The guard barely raised his head.
"I... I didn't laugh..."
"Silence!" the noble snapped. "Such insolence cannot be tolerated!"
The guard tried to speak again, but the pressure forced him back toward the floor. Vorgath said nothing. He remained seated on the throne, watching him in silence, while the force weighing down on the hall seemed to grow heavier and heavier.
Then the guard collapsed.
"L-Lord, I didn't... I beg you to... Nngh! P-please excuse me!" the guard gasped.
My eyes fell on the noble who had accused the guard moments earlier. He was the man I had seen laughing, hiding his mouth behind fingers covered in gold rings. A sadistic smile barely curved his lips.
Suddenly, the horror became clear.
"Nngh... I have a fami-... AAAAAH!"
The guard's voice broke, turning into an agonizing scream. Vorgath slowly closed his fist.
It wasn't a clean sound, but a wet, obscene noise.
The plate armor crumpled like paper as the man's body was crushed against the floor, twisted into an impossible position.
I widened my eyes, unable to look away. A wave of nausea rose from my stomach. With reddened eyes, I looked toward the galleries.
Several nobles began applauding in a composed manner, delighted by the Duke's overwhelming display of power.
The man on the ground gasped, blood gurgling in his throat. The sound of his broken breathing was worse than the screams themselves. A dark, thick pool slowly spread across the black-and-white marble.
Some of the children in line behind me burst into tears, terrified.
But what definitively destroyed my soul in that moment was the absolute impassivity of the adults. Their amused and bored expressions looked to me like the faces of demons from fairy tales.
"A necessary lesson to maintain order," muttered a chubby man, bowing deeply toward the throne.
I remained paralyzed, as white in the face as the Veil I still clutched spasmodically in my hands.
Those couldn't be the same affable, smiling nobles I had glimpsed during banquets and ceremonies, always ready to exchange gifts and pleasantries.
I looked around the hall without recognizing it.
But... then what does all this mean?
Until that moment, I had believed I knew the place where I was born. Now, for the first time, it seemed that I didn't even know part of it.
I found the courage to look at Vorgath again.
His gaze fell upon me, but passed right through me as if I were made of transparent glass. To him, I was no longer part of that room.
Perhaps, I realized with a shudder, I never had been.
He slowly rose from the throne.
His figure stood out against the windows, imposing and inhuman.
"Blood and power are the only things that grant you the right to breathe under the name Stahl Eisenhart."
Szilard took a step forward, approaching my father. He lowered his voice until it was almost a whisper, just loud enough for me to hear.
"Brother, I think the Veil-"
"You are a bore."
An intricate crimson magic circle ignited instantly beneath Vorgath's boots.
For the first time since I had arrived, his gaze settled directly upon me.
"From this moment on, Luthian Stahl Eisenhart loses every right, rank, and privilege belonging to House Stahl. Henceforth, he shall no longer be recognized as my son."
I stood motionless.
Ah... so this was what he had in mind from the beginning.
It wasn't a surprise.
Not completely.
I knew my father didn't consider me the same way he did his other sons. I had known it for years, even though I couldn't have said when I had truly realized it. Every time I appeared before him, there had never been a greeting, a word, or even a glance directed at me.
And yet hearing him say it aloud was different.
He shall no longer be recognized as my son...
Those words stayed in my head, unable to leave.
Silence fell over the hall.
Then the chancellor stepped forward and slowly unsealed the parchment.
"According to what is established by the Edict of the Kingdom of Turhan, promulgated in the three hundred and forty-ninth year of the Empire by Korthon the First..."
His voice became solemn.
"Luthian Stahl Eisenhart is officially stripped of the rights, rank, and privileges belonging to House Stahl. From this moment on, he shall be recognized solely as Luthian Eisenhart."
No... Father. Wait...
"Father! I..."
For the first and last time that day, his gaze rested directly on me.
"I... I can fix this! Father!"
His gaze hit me with unbearable force, heavier than anything I had suffered until then.
"Father!"
I fell to my knees, my voice dying in my throat. I couldn't lift my head. Tears filled my eyes, but I couldn't stop them.
"Don't abandon me..."
I tried with all my strength to raise my gaze, while one hand continued reaching out for my father's attention.
Then, beneath his boots, a faint light appeared. I watched it spread across the floor, forming the lines of a magic circle for an instant.
I froze.
Before I could even understand what was happening, his body vanished along with the light.
Szilard slammed his open palm against the wooden table to draw everyone's attention.
"The ceremony is over. You are requested to leave in an orderly fashion. The hall will be closed for cleaning," he ordered, then turned toward a guard near the corpse.
"Call the maids. And clean everything up immediately."
"Yes, sir!"
The hall began to empty quickly.
Nobles, dignitaries, and guards filed out, carefully avoiding my eyes, as if my "magical failure" were some kind of infectious curse.
I clenched my fists at my sides, trembling from head to toe.
I searched for my uncle with my eyes. I desperately wanted to ask him what I should do, to find an explanation, some shred of support from the master who had taught me for months.
But he was already marching toward the side exit, his cloak rustling behind him, without looking back.
I was left alone, kneeling in the center of the hall. The metallic, slick smell of blood filled the air, mingling with the incense. The white Veil still chilled my fingers, one last, cruel mockery.
I squeezed it out of sheer, blind stubbornness.
It remained relentlessly white.
Impossible... Why? Why me of all people? What did I do wrong to deserve this?
And it was right there, in the silence of my utter ruin, that I heard a distant whisper.
A low laugh.
It was deeply satisfied, almost smug. Something crouched in the darkness of that hall found my fall amusing.
I was no longer the third-born.
I had been stripped of my name, my family, and my future.
Thank you for reading the first chapter of Resonance: The Echo of an Immutable Destiny!
I hope you enjoyed the beginning of the story and Luthian's introduction, and above all, that this first chapter managed to pique your curiosity.
If there was anything that caught your attention, surprised you, or if you already have any theories about what might happen next, feel free to leave a comment.
I'm curious to hear what you thought. Thank you again for making it this far!
