Jace peered out the crimson drapes as the sound of music touched his ears. A flash of light shone at his face as he instinctively closed his eyes.

  Wincing, Jace opened his eyes, taking in the sight of the celebration. In one corner of the room was a small band, their focus entirely on their instruments.

  Guests stood by their side, some listening–letting themselves drown in the melody, most talking.

  It was a party, one certainly made for the rich. Guests dressed lavishly, almost without care. They wore coats of class and dresses of dazzling array. And then, there was Jace. His shirt was still tousled from his journey above the clouds and he was missing a shoe that had fallen along the way.

  As Jace walked from behind the curtain, he could feel gazes following him from across the room, disdain in their smiles and eyes. With a soft smile, Jace picked a glass of champagne from the tray of a nearby waiter.

  The waiter saw only the sleeves of Jace's hoodie and turned with anger etched on his features until he saw Jace's face.

  Jace simply nodded towards the waiter as he raised the glass of champagne towards the group and nodded in greeting.

  The group paused, confused on whether it was a genuine gesture or an attempt at mockery.

  Jace meanwhile, fought the urge to chuckle as he glided across the room, evading dancing guests and scornful glances, as he slipped into a table.

  The table was littered with twirling ribbons and at the center was a large golden…, rod. Ignoring it, Jace placed the cup on the table as he scanned the group. His eyes caught someone as his lips unknowingly curved into a smile.

  With his red hair and casual attire, he was an oddity even at the table. He leaned back against his chair, his arms folded in front of him.

  The others at the table just ignored him and for good reason. Whether they liked it or not, he was the Leader of the Red Army–a faction on par with and maybe even greater than the Black Stars.

  Jace formed his fingers into a pincer, pinching the hand of the Red Leader. At the same time the man's eyes jolted open.

  The red leader woke confused, fixing his eyes on Jace in a second.

  “Wakey, wakey.” Jace brightened as the Red leader grunted, sitting up.

  “You're too courageous for your own good. One would think you're confident in your own abilities”

  Jace sighed as he emphasized “Abilities? I have none. Anyways,”

  Jace's expression turned serious “I need your help,” At the same time motioning to his attire.

  The red leader took one look at Jace before sighing “In closet number 2 beside the stage. You'll find it there.”

  Jace smiled brightly as he lightly tapped the red leader's shirt and stood. The Red Leader watched Jace walk away before suddenly calling out “Wait,”

  Jace paused as the Red Leader continued “We're currently creating aiding suits for those without abilities. According to our estimates, it's combat power should be higher than that of a Grade 2 ability user.”

  He paused for a second as he watched Jace frown before continuing “You can come and be a part of the tests. With that you won't need to rely on the general military, or go to the Academy. You won't have to di–”

  Jace smiled as he sat back down “Once upon a time I would've said yes. Not now. You once told me Strength comes in different ways: Abilities, luck and knowledge”

  As he spoke he tapped his head “I have only one of those so I can't call myself strong. But that doesn't mean I'll accept free meals. Plus, the thing'll probably break.”

  At that Jace stood up and walked away. The Red Leader watched him leave solemnly as he sighed once more after which he went back to snoring away.

  Jace meanwhile walked over to the edge of a wall and began searching for the closet the Red Leader had mentioned.

  Finding a grey door, he opened it up to reveal a wardrobe. Jace searched the outfits until he arrived at one. It was a black suit, a note attached to the wrist reading “For Jace Blank”

  Smiling, Jace unhooked the cloth, noting that it had pants. Additionally, there was a pair of shoes beside the door.

  Jace slipped into the suit and shoes easily as he looked at himself through a mirror. His eyes gleamed faintly as he raised his arm, flexing his wrist.

  ‘Just a tad too big’ He thought as he ran his hands through his jet-black hair. His hair bounced back up as Jace reached into the joggers he had just cast off, feeling an iron comb.

  He retrieved it, fiddling with it as he watched his hair. Finally, he sighed as he thrust the comb into his suit pants. Taking one last look at the mirror, Jace brushed his hair back once more and left the closet.

  As he walked out, he noticed almost half of the people in the banquet were watching him closely.

  Jace frowned for a second as he took a step, watching their eyes trail him. He patted his hair, confused on why they seemed to find him so amusing.

  A woman, young yet with tired eyes, walked confidently to Jace as she stretched out her gloved hand. “Monsieur Jace. I heard so much about you that I had to check for myself if the rumors were true.”

  Jace instantly began searching through every file and archive in his mind to find the identity of this unknown lady. At the same time, he took the gloved hand and brought it up to his lips. “I hope you aren't disappointed,”

  The woman covered her lips as she chuckled and remarked in a strong accent “Quel charmant jeune homme. What an interesting person?”

  With that accent and the language, Jace instantly clocked who or what she was.

  As technology grew more advanced, the need to learn languages decreased with gadgets capable of translation.

  If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  Because of that most people didn’t bother to learn it, mostly because to them it was useless.

  Even then, some of the most wealthy in the old world still chose to learn those languages. Whether it was a tradition, custom or maybe even a remembrance to them that they were once some of the most powerful people. Jace considered it stupid.

  The woman in front of him, though, by all means did not look stupid. In fact Jace could feel the familiar shiver down his spine as she examined him. Only one person had been able to give him that feeling, his father. Today, Jace had found the second.

  “You have your mother's eyes, and a bit of her spunk too,” The woman declared, as her dark eyes scrutinized every body part.

  “Uhmm, thanks,” Jace fumbled as he realized something. “Wait, how did you know my mother?”

  The woman's smile froze as she tilted her head in puzzlement “Of course. A photo of her and you turned up, along with some rather.., unsavory things,”

  The words hit Jace like a truck. Who? The answer came clearly–It had to be those two. Jace whirled as he scanned around the banquet for them. Where were they? He had to be here. Him and that cane striking snake of a counsellor.

  Awareness smacked him. He was still in the presence of the foreign woman. He turned as he noted a smile the woman attempted to hide. Seeing Jace had noticed her smile, she whispered, her tone sorrowful “I didn't expect the succession squabble to have reached this height. Truly poor,”

  She placed her hand over her lips, as she sighed heavily. Then she brightened “Tell your father the answer to an alliance is yes. But not until this petty argument on the next owner of this Faction is solved.”

  Jace bit back countering, nodding. There was no fight or squabble. The true heir of the Black Stars was already known by all. The squabble was simply a formality.

  As Jace watched the woman leave, a voice sounded from behind him “Welcome great heir of the Black Stars. You're late.”

  The words had a mocking edge to it and Jace could already tell who it was without turning back.

  “Why don't you scurry off to your hiding place Jerry. Your friends are waiting, or at least the rat you call a roommate said it missed you.”

  If the previous comment had led to a few people smiling or chuckling, Jace's led to complete silence.

  Finally there was a snapping sound and the clacking of shoes. At the same time a nasal voice cut the air “As expected of our Lord Heir. Cuts through the defenseless with his tongue. Unfortunately his blade isn't strong enough to cut Humanity's actual enemies.”

  At that there was raucous laughter throughout the hall as Jace gazed, fixated at the man who spoke.

  With a dark coat, a top hat and using a golden scepter to walk, he appeared, exuding an unholy aura of arrogance.

  Sorn tapped Jerry lightly on the shoulder as Jace watched Jerry scurry away, probably attending to his mice friends.

  The hall quieted as Sorn appeared, everyone ignoring the previous exchange. A click of the fingers and a waitress scurried over to Sorn, subservience in their bow as they held out the silver plated tray.

  Grabbing two drinks from it, Councilor Sorn regarded Jace softly “Let's have a little chat away from prying eyes,”

  Jace eyed the older man cautiously as the two sat at a nearby table. Sorn crossed his legs, his cane resting on the side of his chair as he granted Jace the cup.

  Silence reigned as Sorn grasped his’, motioning for a small cheer with Jace. The older man sipped the crimson liquid, letting it savour across his tongue.

  He placed the cup gently, his voice revealing a hint of uncharacteristic sadness “You're leaving?”

  Jace nodded, his eyes glancing warily across the table. His eyes fluttered to the cane then back at Sorn who now had a frown on his face.

  “Put those eyes away. Your eyes move like a mad man” Sorn's voice was soft despite the words. He raised his glass as he let out a few words before taking a sip “Of course that's one similarity you share with your father.”

  Jace clenched his fist, his nails almost biting into his hand. Withholding himself, he muttered depreciatingly “Does my cousin share those traits?”

  A smile tugged at the older man's lips as he boasted admiringly “Of course he does. Why else would I choose to follow him?”

  Jace muttered under his breath "Probably because he has your nudes,”

  Sorn frowned, even though he didn't seem to have heard it, as he cautioned “Speak loudly if you intend to. But watch your words. Christ, you speak like a low born”

  Grasping his cup, the Councilor took a large gulp, finishing his sentence in a tone low enough for only Jace to hear “I guess it runs in the blood. A sinner begets sinner and low born begets low born and all that nonsense. Frankly, I'm surprised your blood's still red. Guess you didn't take much from your mother,”

  Jace clutched his cup tighter, the glass almost breaking in his hand. Sorn smirked, “And your little friend, that waste. I guess trash sticks together.”

  Sorn paused as Jace remained silent, his expression calm. The older man sighed, his smirk gone as he took another sip of the expensive drink. “Are you still relying on that sack of bones? You know he doesn't have much longer. Give it a year. Hell, give it a few minutes. Won't be long before he's six feet under, still whining about the good old da–”

  The sentence remained unfinished as Jace struck, his fist flying across Sorn's cheek.

  Another fist rose hitting Sorn once more, this time on his chest. Sorn collapsed on the ground as he seemed to have been possessed by a coughing fit.

  Around him, Jace could hear people walking, voices raised. Ignoring them, Jace grabbed his cup, breaking the glass with his hand as he swung downward.

  The glass never hit Sorn, it never even dropped down. Jace's hand remained motionless, its fall stopped by someone else.

  Looking to his left Jace saw him, his hateful face. His blonde hair seemed to glow in the light as he offered a curt, almost mocking, smile.

  He hauled Sorn up, his voice soft as he asked gently “Are you okay?”

  Sorn spat out the words alongside drops of blood “I'm fine. No thanks to your cousin over there.”

  Jace dropped the glass, vaguely aware of his hurting palm. That and the gazes scrutinizing, admonishing him.

  The crowd murmured, their voices drowning one another yet still rising. Just when Jace opened his mouth to speak, his cousin stepped in.

  His cousin bowed deeply to the crowd, his Black Stars uniform escaping from within his suit. “I apologize on behalf of my cousin. Please, do not let this minor incident reflect poorly on all of us. I assure you, my cousin just had” He struggled for the word “a burst of emotions.”

  He paused, “It's always sad when you leave your home. Of course that sadness tends to turn to happiness when your destination is the Military Academy. My cousin is just overcome by emotions,”

  Recognition dawned for the crowd as Jace could hear the hall's doors swing open. Jace's cousin seemed to realize that too, as he increased his voice even above the rhythmic sound of a cane striking ground

  “So drink, make merry. Today is a day of celebration, not despair. It's a day to honor the ones we've lost, to give praise to the builders of this city. So, celebrate, their very actions, their sacrifices. They have led to making our lives better, isn't that right, Esteemed Elder?”

  Jace turned as he finally noticed the Elder. The Elder was…old. His dark eyes still retained a youthful spark in them and his gray beard made him look like a wizard.

  He walked slowly, his every step carrying weight. Finally, he stood. His eyes moved over to Jace, then to Sorn who was now resting against the table and then finally to the one in control of the crowd.

  He spoke, his voice low yet with that silent hint of power lost long ago “Indeed. It's a sad yet happy truth. They lost their lives so you could enjoy yours,”

  His eyes moved back to Jace as he enunciated each word carefully “So live your life well.”

  No one said anything for a second. And then there was one clap. One turned to two, two to three. Before long the entire room had devolved into applause.

  And at the center of it, was Jace's cousin. Bowing lightly to the Esteemed Leader, he adored “Thank you, Master Edgis.”

  The applause continued, even as Edgis went deeper into the banquet, even as Sorn shot Jace a smirk, even as Jace's cousin whispered into Jace's ear “Do you remember? This is war,”

  Surveying the crowd, the banquet one last time, Jace watched. The play went on. Guests danced together, yet in the back of their mind the incident still played like a tape on repeat.

  And so, Jace bowed off the stage.