The sun had well and truly set, and with the dinner finished, they moved to the final part of the celebration. It was customary within the Eternal Blossom Clan to receive five gifts upon reaching adulthood, so it came as no surprise to Nyx to see Verx congratulate him with a tight hug and hand him two beautifully carved wooden armguards. They were made of a darker variant of pakira wood, less durable but still several times harder than most metals.

  “We will see each other again. I will catch up to you,” she said confidently before adding, “But don’t die again before we meet.”

  Nyx hugged her again, thanked her, and received another gift from his younger brother. It was a pair of cultivation robes that, according to his mother, looked very similar to the robes the sect wore. They showed a beautifully stylized flower on the back, symbolizing the Eternal Blossom Clan. Azrx did not fully understand what was happening or that his older brother was going to leave soon, so Nyx exaggerated his happiness and asked the little rascal how he had done such a good job making such a cool gift.

  His mother then presented him with enchanted sandals made from leather straps. They would attach to his legs in a comfortable way, where he hardly noticed that he was wearing any footwear to begin with.

  Nyx briefly went to his room to change, left his old clothes behind, and stored the mimic loot in the many convenient pockets of his robes. The sandals attached all the way up to his knees, yet he hardly felt their presence. Even the armguards had no straps to tie them to his arms, yet they stayed firmly in place.

  A last glance at his study table left Nyx tempted to take one or two scrolls for entertainment, but he ultimately reconsidered. He would add to the stories himself and leave them with the Eternal Blossom Estate—add to the family, not take from it.

  When he arrived back in the dining hall, everything had been restored to its pristine condition. Brother Nox’Yanxiou sipped on a sickly green-looking tea, likely to address his inebriated condition.

  His sister and brother said goodnight, and a few hugs later, they had disappeared into their rooms. In the presence of the Eternal Blossom matriarch and patriarch, he was ready to receive the two remaining gifts.

  First, his father brought forth a bronze sword from his storage ring, a beautifully simple, straight weapon. It had no decorations, no inscriptions, no runes. The only decoration was a round circle above the handle that had the Eternal Blossom Clan’s symbol etched into the bronze metal.

  Nyx received it and immediately felt its sharpness before he had even touched the edge. It felt dangerous. But it was simply a beautiful weapon, neither magical nor enchanted.

  He stored it away in a simple, white wooden sheath made of tecoma. Lacking storage rings, Nyx fixed the sword to his back.

  Next, the matriarch brought forth needles—hundreds of tiny needles that hovered in the air around her. Nyx removed his clothing to uncover his chest and braced himself. He had seen it before, when his older brother had his coming-of-age ceremony. The needles assaulted him, poking precisely where they intended, leaving a black mark whenever they retreated. Each of them stung him about four or five times; the pain was minimal, but the feeling of watching so much metal assault him made him feel nauseous.

  Before he knew it, it was over. The Eternal Blossom Clan’s symbol marked his chest, the black hue quickly fading to match his already dark skin tone. Within a minute, it was invisible.

  “You can activate it by declaring yourself a family member of the Eternal Blossom Clan. Your brothers and sisters will come to your aid if they are close,” the matriarch smiled before continuing with a stern look. “I expect you to do the same.”

  Then his mother hugged him lovingly before asking a question that Nyx had thought about for months now. “What will be your name? Have you thought of one?”

  Nyx nodded. Demons typically chose the second part of their name when they reached adulthood, signaling a permanent departure from their childhood and a step into immortality. He had considered a few names that he liked, but the vivid memory of orange and yellow flames dancing on his dark red skin had given him another idea.

  “I will choose Sol. Nyx’Sol of the Eternal Blossom Clan,” he declared proudly.

  “Sol,” his mother spoke gently. “It suits you, I think. Darkness that meets the sun.”

  Nox’Yanxiou joined them, having recovered from his poison, and handed Nyx a white pill. “Here, a restoration pill. You will need some energy. If you want to leave tomorrow morning, I will need your assistance with making the shapeshifting pill. Come to the alchemy workshop when you are done.” Then he clapped him on the shoulder. “Welcome to the family.”

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  Nyx eyed the white pill questioningly before a heavy hand laid itself on his shoulder. The patriarch showed an approving smile. “Take it. It will keep you awake until tomorrow evening. If you take them too often, they can poison you, but every once in a while they are quite useful. Now come. I will have one more thing to show you before you leave.”

  Nyx hugged his mother goodbye and left to follow his father.

  They exited the dining hall into the hallways and took a set of stairs deeper into the Eternal Blossom Estate. Winding stairways led into hallways that had been carved into stone, with rooms that Nyx knew were either guest rooms, rooms for various types of closed-door cultivation, or training facilities.

  He wondered why his father had chosen to walk the long way but soon realized that it was a ritual to impress the Eternal Blossom Clan’s age and legacy onto new family members.

  Nyx knew that his mother exclusively managed the farmstead, its harvest, and the storage of goods, while taking care of their children. They shared educating their children in whatever they showed keen interest in and had done so for centuries, while his father worked tirelessly to expand the Estate, fortify its defenses, and build wherever he could.

  To Nyx, his entire life had been spent here, part of the family. To them, he was one of many children that had grown up under their guidance while restlessly toiling away at creating something that would withstand the centuries to come.

  “Nyx,” his father called him calmly. “If you ever find yourself a woman that you want to share the rest of eternity with, do not make the same mistakes that I have.”

  Surprised at the patriarch's openness, Nyx demanded clarification. “What do you mean? You regret your choice to…” Nyx swallowed. “To be here?”

  His father laughed. “No, child. No. I found your mother in a previous life. We fell in love and agreed to meet here in this very place after finishing our next assignments. Then I set out to fight on the frontline. And your mother set out on a mission for the sect.” He contemplated sorrowfully. “We both died. And were reborn. Both without memory of the other. Without the memory of our love. It took me 87 years, Nyx. 87 years to remember your mother and to return to this place. And find it empty and forgotten.”

  Nyx frowned. He had no idea what love felt like. Maybe it was similar to what he felt for his family? His little brother? He would feel sad to be unable to see them again. But they would be reborn; he would meet them again? Surely his father would have also realized that?

  The patriarch laid his hand on Nyx’s shoulder as they walked down the last long-winded staircase into the depths of the estate. Countless golems guarded the way. A security measure? “The worst thing about waiting is not how long it took. It was quite tranquil to cultivate, build something, and carve something useful out of this deserted valley in the middle of nowhere.”

  His father sighed. “The worst thing is not knowing whether my love would even want to return. And wondering every day, that maybe her feelings were not the same as mine.”

  “Uncertainty?” Nyx asked. “That is the worst?”

  “Yes, that was the worst,” his father confirmed. “How long do you think I have waited?”

  Nyx pondered for a while, and when their steps finally arrived at the lowest floor of the Eternal Blossom Estate, he turned to his father and reassuringly laid his hand on his back. “I only know that it was long enough.”

  Leaving the patriarch perplexed, Nyx took in the sight of the caverns. Round doors were cut into the stone, one door followed by another, each with beautiful decorative designs. Water fell from the ceiling into a small fountain, which spilled all over the floor. Except, there was no floor. The liquid formed a floor made of pure water, separating each floor from the one below, with thin layers of stone, hovering in place, that served as a staircase towards the next water platform.

  There were exactly 50 doors for every layer, each door showcasing a number. One chamber for each of the Eternal Blossom Clan’s children.

  Nyx stepped out onto the liquid that resisted his weight with ease. “This is amazing!” The stone doors reacted to his presence as he walked past them. A faint yellow light highlighted the outline of a handprint. “What does this do?” he asked his father.

  “Try it,” the patriarch demanded. “You will see.”

  Nyx stretched his hand out for the palm print, the light turning deep red. Then a painful shock ran through his fingers, and he retracted his hand, turning questioningly to his father.

  “They detect the soul they are imprinted to,” the patriarch pointed at the door's inscription. “Only the 2nd sister of the Eternal Blossom Clan and her reincarnation may open this vault.” He nodded towards the stairs. “Let us go and see yours.”

  The design for the vault doors had changed over time, each floor following a different design choice. It was difficult for Nyx to pinpoint the intricate differences, but he could tell that his father had put a lot of thought into it.

  It took a while to descend towards the lowest level, where a lot of vault doors stood open, and others had been carved into the stone, without a door still.

  Nyx followed the numbers to arrive at 476. His number. Walking past all these vaults had imprinted the size of the Eternal Blossom Clan on Nyx. He would not be surprised if he met members of his family quite often. Vault number 476 was closed. It did not react to Nyx; no yellow light indicated that he should reach out to open the vault.

  His father’s presence flooded the room, Nyx for the first time feeling a fragment of his father’s power. His energy made the vault door light up in intricate patterns, flooded with light blue energy. Then the familiar yellow light appeared, and Nyx stepped forward to imprint the vault to his soul.

  The door to his vault opened.

  And it was not empty.

  Something was waiting for him.