Chapter 47

Letters

LIAM

After coming back from his classes, Liam noticed a letter on his desk. From the seal, he immediately recognized it as a message from home. His heart gave a faint lurch—an uneasy flutter he couldn’t quite explain. For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the envelope, as if hoping it might vanish on its own. The light from the desk lamp cast a faint glow on the edges of the paper, highlighting the familiar crest he knew so well. It felt heavy, as though it carried the weight of unspoken expectations.

He exhaled quietly, shoulders tensing, before finally breaking the seal and unfolding the letter with slow, deliberate movements, as if prolonging the inevitable.

Dear Liam,
How are you? Is everything all right? We’ve heard that something bad is starting to happen in Amaltea. The entire celestial dimension is growing uneasy. It seems we are facing a disturbance in balance, which could have tragic consequences.
No matter what happens, remember that as a Nephilim, you have a duty to stand with the forces of light. If balance cannot be maintained, it is light that must prevail to prevent the spread of evil.
I understand that you may have friends among the representatives of lower or even dark races, but when it comes down to it, remember where your loyalty should lie.
Furthermore, you should keep a closer eye on your surroundings and the people who approach you. They might be a threat to you, even if they themselves don’t realize it. It’s clear that we’re not the only ones who have noticed what’s going on—other realms may already be placing their pieces on the board.
You should keep us informed of any unusual occurrences as they happen. Also, stay vigilant—there’s a chance you might encounter a powerful being along the way. If that happens, you must learn as much as you can about them, uncover all their weaknesses, but maintain neutral or friendly relations. You never know when that might come in handy.
With love,
Your parents.

Liam stood in the middle of the room for a moment, unsure what to think. The walls of his dorm room, usually a comforting cocoon of routine, suddenly felt cold and oppressive, like they were pressing in on him. He could hear the faint hum of the academy beyond his closed door—the muffled voices of students, the distant echo of footsteps in the corridor—but it all felt strangely distant, like a world he wasn’t fully a part of anymore.

He had heard rumours about various anomalies and strange events, whispered snippets in the hallways, half-finished sentences exchanged in hushed tones. But he hadn’t thought it was serious enough to attract attention from the outside world—especially not from his parents, who had always seemed so composed, so far above the chaos of everyday school life.

A cold knot of unease tightened in his chest, and for a fleeting second, it felt like the floor beneath him might give way.

As for strange, unusual beings—especially those who could be strong—the only one who came to his mind was Raphael. His thoughts drifted to the boy’s bright, searching blue eyes, the way his voice trembled sometimes when he spoke, like he was carrying too much for someone his age. But he couldn’t see how Raphael could possibly be a threat to him.

Liam could clearly see that Raphael was completely lost himself, trying to find his identity and the path his life should follow. There was something fragile about him, like a candle flickering in a storm—something that stirred a quiet, protective instinct in Liam’s chest.

He liked him a lot and wanted to support him—he was really starting to see him as a friend.

A soft sigh escaped his lips, as if the weight of it all was too much for his lungs to bear. Slowly, he undressed, his fingers fumbling slightly at the buttons, distracted by the whirlwind of thoughts. The cool air of the room prickled against his skin as he shed the layers of his day, and, lost in thought, he finally headed for the shower, the sound of water hissing in the background a faint, grounding whisper amidst the chaos in his mind.

ETHAN

Ethan came back from training, furious. His steps were heavy, almost stomping across the floor, each one an angry thud echoing through the empty hallway. His team had clearly been slacking off with their practice sessions lately, and it showed today—they got thoroughly beaten by the opposing team. The sting of defeat still burned in his chest, a raw, gnawing ache that seemed to twist deeper with every breath. His muscles were sore, not just from physical exertion, but from the frustration that coiled tight beneath his skin, like a storm barely contained.

In fact, he had been walking around constantly irritated, frustrated, and angry for a while now. The pressure seemed relentless, a weight crushing down on him from all sides. His fists clenched and unclenched, his jaw tight, the tension so strong it felt like his own body was working against him. Sometimes, it felt like he was on the verge of exploding—everything inside him was building up so much, a volatile mix of resentment, exhaustion, and an ever-present, simmering rage that he could barely hold back.

He was just about to throw himself onto the bed, desperate for even a moment’s relief, when his gaze was drawn to an envelope lying on his desk. It seemed to almost glow in the dim light of the room, an unwelcome presence that sent a fresh wave of irritation washing over him. The moment he saw it, he knew it was a letter from home. The neat, formal seal mocked him, a reminder of everything he couldn’t escape.

What do they want from me this time…? he thought angrily, the words like poison in his mind.

Annoyed, he started to read, his fingers tightening on the edges of the paper, crumpling it slightly as if the words themselves were taunting him.

Ethan,
It’s impossible to hide that we’re worried. First of all—we are, as always, fully up to date with everything that’s happening at school and within Amaltea itself. The information reaching us cannot be dismissed.

The formal tone of the letter grated on his nerves, a cold, distant echo of voices he knew too well—stern, commanding, and utterly incapable of understanding how suffocating their expectations were.

All the more reason the matter of your destiny comes back into focus. You know perfectly well that it’s your task to find worthy partners with whom you will establish two powerful houses. You must understand that the privilege you’ve been given doesn’t come to just anyone. Not everyone has official permission to enter into two equal marriages.

The words stabbed at him like needles, each phrase a reminder of the burden he had no say in, no escape from.

All of this is thanks to your unique heritage. Remember that you are one of a kind—this is why we’re counting on you to support your family, and to start building two strong clans of werewolves and angels very soon.

He could feel his pulse hammering in his ears, the blood rushing through his veins like fire.

For now, however, we have no information that you’re seeing any representative from either of these races. We hope that this Raphael you wrote to us about recently hasn’t turned your head so much that it would ruin our plans.

His eyes narrowed as he read that name—Raphael. A bitter taste filled his mouth.

Especially now, when it’s clear that something is starting to change, it’s all the more important to strengthen our family’s position.

As for Raphael himself—you must stay alert. We checked in various places, we spoke with the headmaster of the school, and it turns out that no one knows anything about him. That is very suspicious. It could turn out that he’s simply a nobody, but it could also turn out that he’s a very strong player—powerful enough to hide his origins.

You know the saying: keep your friends close, and your enemies even closer.

Therefore, you should get as close to him as possible and observe him carefully. We are counting heavily on your vigilance, intuition, and experience. You need to know everything about him.

Your parents.

By the time he reached the end of the letter, his hands were shaking. His knuckles were white from how tightly he gripped the paper, as if he could crush the weight of their demands between his fingers.

No way! Has the entire universe conspired against me?! Ethan screamed in his thoughts, furious. His breath came in ragged bursts, chest heaving, as the words echoed like a drumbeat inside his skull. Do they have to shove me at that jerk too?! The anger surged up like a tidal wave, drowning everything else. I swear, if I hear “Raphael” one more time, I’m going to explode!

His furious pacing around the room was interrupted by a knock on the door, sharp and unexpected, cutting through the haze of his thoughts like a crack of thunder.

– What?! – he shouted, unable to control himself, his voice rough and loud, bouncing off the walls.

The door creaked open, and Lucas stepped into the room, a cautious, half-apologetic expression on his face.

– Dude! You’re all fired up again. I came to check how you’re doing and whether you’ve finally gotten over that whole Raphael thing.

The words barely registered before something inside Ethan snapped. A flash of blinding rage overtook him, and with no thought, no hesitation, he punched Lucas in the face with all his strength. The impact was brutal—Lucas’s head snapped back, and his body crumpled, slumping to the floor, unconscious.

Ethan stood there, his chest heaving, fists still clenched, the room eerily silent except for the sound of his ragged breathing. And then he howled.

HEADMASTER ALEXANDER

Headmaster Alexander stood in the center of the chamber, surrounded by the representatives of the ARC. The air felt heavy, almost charged, as if the weight of unseen forces hung over the room, waiting to descend. The walls, adorned with ancient banners and symbols of authority, seemed to close in slightly, amplifying the tension. Eyes from all directions locked on him, a silent pressure building in the stillness.

– I sincerely apologize for requesting a meeting with the council on such short notice, – he began, his voice calm but urgent, the slight edge in his tone betraying the gravity of the situation. His hands were folded behind his back, his posture straight, but his gaze was sharp, almost burning into the council members as if willing them to grasp the urgency of his words.

– However, I wanted to deliver some very important information. Recently, I’ve received several troubling letters. – he explained this steadily, though the slight furrow in his brow hinted at the weight of responsibility he carried. The flickering torchlight threw deep shadows across his face, accentuating the lines of worry etched into his features.

– The elder of the Tauros wrote to me, informing me about disturbing phenomena in the Whispering Woods. – his voice dropped slightly, more solemn now, drawing the room into an uneasy stillness.

– One of their best men has clearly detected quite strong disruptions in the balance of energy that fills the forest. Areas are appearing where magic is temporarily absent, which could have serious consequences. – He paused, allowing the weight of the words to sink in. His fingers tensed slightly at his sides, betraying a fraction of the concern he kept carefully guarded beneath his composed exterior.

– Additionally, he sensed a new source of energy of unknown origin. What’s more, they are unable to identify the nature of this energy. – The last words lingered in the air like an echo, the unspoken implications stretching into the minds of everyone present.

– That is indeed unusual and concerning, – remarked one of the council representatives, his voice cautious yet steady, though a subtle flicker of unease passed across his face, and he shifted slightly in his seat, as if the thought of such instability made him restless.

– The second letter I received was from the elder of the Serpentari people. Medusa has awakened. – Alexander’s tone grew heavier, and a faint murmur rippled through the chamber.

– Impossible! – one of the elders burst out, unable to stop himself. His voice rang sharply against the chamber walls, breaking the fragile stillness like a stone dropped into water. He leaned forward in his seat, knuckles white as he gripped the table.

– Do you know what that could mean? – his words were a mixture of disbelief and barely restrained dread.

– Unfortunately, I do, – replied the headmaster, his expression darkening, the corners of his mouth tightening as a shadow of grim understanding passed over his features. His eyes briefly swept the room, meeting the gaze of each council member with a heavy, unspoken weight.

– And the Serpentari know as well. They have sent people to investigate the jungle and have chosen readers to restore the full knowledge they safeguard. – his voice dropped, low and steady, the implications of his words hanging in the air like an oppressive fog.

– Unfortunately, that’s not all. The seer from the temple in Glittering Slopes has also sent a letter expressing her concern. – His eyes narrowed slightly, and his fingers curled in a subtle, restrained gesture, as if steadying himself for what was to come. – However, she did not want to disclose the details in writing.

– All the letters share one common element – all the senders want to meet with the council.

A moment of silence fell over the room, heavy and tense, as if the walls themselves were holding their breath. The flickering torches cast long shadows across the council chamber, the air thick with unspoken questions and the weight of what had just been revealed.

Then the eldest among those gathered spoke, his voice a low, measured rumble that carried across the room:

– I think that is a very reasonable request. – his words were deliberate, almost cautious, as if he was weighing each one carefully.

– What’s more, once we all meet together, it will be easier to piece everything together. – He folded his hands neatly in front of him, his expression composed but edged with a subtle note of worry. – At the same time, it will also save us some work. We will let you know as soon as possible regarding the date of the meeting.

Headmaster Alexander bowed, a gesture of respect mingled with a quiet gravity, and without another word, he turned and left the chamber. The soft sound of his footsteps faded into the distance, swallowed by the vast, echoing space.

After he exited, a heavy, oppressive silence lingered there for a long time, wrapping around the room like a shroud, as if even the air itself had grown too heavy to move.