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Chapter 12: Capital

  As they traveled on the train—which barely allowed passengers to rest because of the constant rattling and noise—Theo stared at the sky through the window. Still inside the private cabin he shared with his father, he watched the trees disappear the moment they appeared.

  Drifting through a landscape that barely revealed itself, the Young Master remained in absolute silence.

  That silence was broken by Luanne, leaning against the door; she had been there for a few moments, simply observing her godson.

  The moon’s glow reflects perfectly on his skin… Luanne thought.

  Indeed, it did—like the pale moon of midnight, the perfect mirror of the sun.

  She approached with careful steps while keeping her balance; moving at the train’s high speed and trying to walk was still strange for travelers.

  Sitting in a chair beside Theo, she admired the moon with him.

  A cloud swallowed the perfect reflection, but it soon passed.

  “Mother is beautiful, isn’t she, young Tê?” Luanne asked, wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

  “Mother?” he replied, confused.

  She rested her head against Theo’s silky hair, which curled into gentle waves.

  “The Virgin Mother… Alunne, our moon. She was present when the Creator founded this sky, and she will be there when this sky falls…”

  “She… is the mother of who?” the innocent boy asked—though he felt embarrassed the moment the words left his mouth.

  Luanne laughed softly while smelling the child’s hair, which carried a peculiar and memorable fragrance—one that made her immediately associate it with the color gold.

  “The mother of light, of destiny, and of war. The one responsible for life existing in this world…”

  As she stroked Theo’s hair, she drifted into thought. Like a mother holding her child for the first time—or perhaps savoring the moment after so many years apart.

  And so it remained for the entire night: holding him and protecting him, perhaps afraid she might not see him again. Yet certain of the treasure she held in her arms.

  “Welcome to Athenian! The capital of wealth!” a holographic voice echoed through the cabin.

  “I thought Romerian’s wealth came from Hardian…” Ethan whispered to Luanne, who laughed.

  Sliding above the capital as if it were an open map, the Saint Mercury Tram traveled across the sky. Theo looked through the window while Athenian passed in blurs—the rooftops of houses, structural imperfections creating uneven alleys.

  Then the scenery changed abruptly: the unplanned districts of Athenian vanished as they connected to the noble quarter. The designed streets resembled a labyrinth, a prison for local thieves. Regular buildings rose exponentially until they met the base of the main mountain.

  Theo looked back and saw a massive rail cutting through the sky, supported by pillars screwed into the bases of busy sidewalks. Athenian was never fully lit; heavy clouds always seemed to darken the sky while the sun hid timidly behind them.

  But magic had always belonged to the north.

  The tram glided along the rail as it climbed the mountain, circling the Emperor’s immense wall. Hundreds of soldiers stood in the towers watching the tram’s movement—something that left Ethan intrigued.

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  If only the nobility can access this tram, why the surveillance? the Duke wondered, watching the guards point firearms at the windows.

  The tram circled the mountain, following the high line of the wall, passing close to the main watchtower—the entrance.

  “Tê… from up there, we’ll be able to see the sea,” Ethan said from the other side of the tram.

  “Really?” Theo replied, practically jumping, his golden eyes shining brighter than ever.

  “Yes! The view from the imperial castle is beautiful… especially at night.”

  Luanne nudged her godson’s shoulder with a gentle smile, which the boy returned with joy.

  Yet Ethan felt uneasy under the soldiers’ persistent scrutiny. After all, having a gun pointed at your head during a peaceful trip was unsettling.

  “Central, this is Sergeant Drukhall directly from the entrance bridge,” reported the soldier aiming his weapon at Ethan. “Duke Lawrence has returned home.”

  A gate opened between the two watchtowers, taking about fifteen seconds to fully rise. The rail lifted from the ground, rotating and connecting quickly to complete the path.

  Then the tram continued toward its destination.

  After exiting a dim tunnel, sunlight burst through the windows.

  “And it was almost thundering…” Theo commented, covering his eyes.

  As the light softened, the tram circled the castle square where a private railway station stood—like a small city within the conservative walls.

  The tram slid slowly along the rails until stopping at the entrance, where an eight-meter arched gate stood. A wide paved road stretched upward along the mountain and disappeared among the homes of noble families—small independent castles that connected together to form the immense fortress of the Augustus Family.

  A black vehicle reflected the castle walls across its long hood, ending in iron grills at the front surrounded by four round headlights. Three more identical vehicles soon appeared behind it, parking to the side and revealing white wheels.

  “While the south still uses carriages…” Ethan grumbled, envying the vehicles that flaunted such noble luxury.

  A group of people gathered around them as soon as they stepped off the tram; among them were guards protecting four specific individuals.

  A shy girl hid behind her mother’s dress; both were red-haired with blue eyes, wearing clothes far too warm even for Theo—who lived in an extremely cold region.

  Yet Theo felt intimidated by the growing tension between the two men staring down at Ethan. Still, the Duke suppressed them with nothing but his deep gaze.

  They shared Ethan’s physical traits: naturally white hair, well-kept and bright. Their piercing blue eyes—almost like a clear sky—were the defining feature of the Augustus family.

  The one who despised Ethan most was his own father, Colonel Leon Caesar. A Deviant; younger brother of Emperor Llorent. He always walked with a stern face, but his eyes became weapons of disdain whenever he faced his children.

  On his right stood Elijah—the eldest son, though the Colonel’s second child. The most despicable among the children of the White Lion’s Flame… and still the favorite.

  But Ethan never considered kneeling—nor even bowing his head. Titles did not determine a man’s true strength.

  “Hello, Leon and Elijah,” Ethan said, taking Theo’s hand.

  Ignoring them, he brought Luanne with him toward the woman and the girl—Elijah’s wife and daughter.

  Grandpa Leon? Uncle Elijah? Theo thought, staring up at them, intimidated.

  Elijah gave Theo a fake and contemptuous smile—a feeling the boy found disturbingly familiar.

  “Tê, this is Aunt Stephany and your cousin Chloe. You’ll stay with them while Luanne and I are away, alright?”

  “Alright, Father.”

  “Are you forbidding me from looking at my grandson?” Leon said, arms behind his back.

  Ethan remained silent while looking at Stephany—a discreet but firm order.

  The woman gathered the two children and led them toward a distant car, away from Elijah’s and Leon’s vehicle.

  “You two have already looked at him too much,” Ethan said, turning back toward the tram. “Just don’t touch him, and you’ll be fine.”

  As he passed his older brother, Elijah stopped him with his shoulder.

  “You’re sharp. What happened?” Elijah hissed like a rattling serpent.

  “Ten years without showing up and you treat us like this? Who do you—” Leon began, before being interrupted.

  “I know what you did to Edward the last time he came to this pile of bricks,” Ethan said, pushing Elijah’s provocation aside. “Touch Theo and—”

  “And what will happen?” Elijah challenged.

  Yet his throat tightened under a sudden dreadful sensation.

  The entire Augustus castle felt it in that instant. Not from Ethan’s intent—but from a dark and ominous moon.

  The most ruthless, possessive, and protective side of Alunne.

  “Your head will greet the plaza tomorrow morning, Sir Elijah,” Luanne declared as she walked between Leon and his eldest son.

  Pushing them aside with a sadistic smile, she moved in rhythmic steps—like a dance of death.

  Soon following her, Ethan slipped his hands into his pockets, keeping his head high.

  “Soldiers, do not let anyone except Stephany and Chloe approach Young Master Lawrence,” Ethan announced. “I’ll pay triple wages to whoever stops them.”

  “Audacious…” Leon murmured quietly. “Where are you going? And when will you return?”

  “I’ll return when I feel like it…” Ethan said, stepping onto the tram and glancing back at him. “I’m going to see the Titans.”

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