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The road to Velmora was long and shrouded in veils of mist. Towering trees loomed over the old path like silent sentinels, their bark gnarled with the age of time. Kenneth Prince David, now thirteen, walked beside the cloaked figure of Malrik—his mentor, guardian, and now his only family.
Malrik had taken a new name for their journey—Aren Lucius, a wandering beast hunter. Kenneth, however, kept his name. He refused to forget who he was, no matter how dangerous the truth could be.
"You don't have to carry the weight of your name in this world," Malrik had said as they crossed into the borders of Velmora.
Kenneth, with his hands tucked into the folds of his dark cloak, his deep blue eyes scanning the unfamiliar land, replied, "If I lose my name, I lose the last of my mother. I won't let them take that too."
Malrik said nothing after that. The boy's voice carried an edge—sharp, composed, yet teetering on the boundary of grief and defiance.
Velmora: City of Steel and Power
Velmora pulsed with life—tall metallic structures blended with earthy stone towers, shimmering airships drifting overhead like floating titans. In this human nation, every individual had an ability. Some could bend shadows to their will, others could ignite sparks with a snap. Some abilities were powerful, some mundane, but no one was normal.
Kenneth's beauty struck those they passed. His lightskinned features bore a rare blend of softness and strength, with silver-black hair flowing to his shoulders. His presence was both magnetic and unsettling—those who caught his eyes either blushed or looked away in fear.
They found shelter in a quiet district near the outer edges of Velmora—a place where beast hunters and mercenaries often stayed. There, Malrik established a modest life under his alias, taking jobs to hunt lesser beasts and mutated wildlife. Kenneth, meanwhile, was enrolled in Velmora Central Academy—the nation's largest school for human adolescents with abilities.
Malrik registered as his father on the official documents. It was risky, but necessary.
Before their first day apart in the city, Malrik knelt before Kenneth in the silence of their rented room.
"Your power… it's not something you can fully hide. But control it. Study these humans. Blend in. The world is watching, even if you cannot see it."
Kenneth nodded solemnly. "If it comes to a fight?"
Malrik narrowed his eyes. "Win. But do not be seen."
A School Unlike Any Other
Velmora Academy was a fortress more than a school—tall stone walls laced with barrier glyphs, sprawling fields for combat trials, and tech-labs powered by human technomancers.
On his first day, Kenneth walked through the iron gates with his hood lowered. Whispers followed him.
"Who's the new guy?" "He's beautiful…" "But did you feel that chill when he passed?"
He took his assigned seat in Class 3-A, near the window, away from others. He was used to being watched—gazed upon with curiosity and suspicion.
And yet, two students would not avert their gaze.
The first was Zarek Volen, a tall, lean superhuman with obsidian hair tied back and golden tattoos glowing faintly across his neck. He sat behind Kenneth, lightning flickering briefly from his fingertips.
The second was Kael Drayven, a shorter boy with a tech-enhanced monocle, his fingers typing silently on a floating holographic screen. He looked at Kenneth like a puzzle worth solving.
At break, Zarek approached him. "You don't belong here. Not in a bad way… You're not like the rest of us."
Kenneth raised a brow. "Neither are you."
Zarek smiled. "True."
Kael joined, arms crossed. "You're hiding something. But I don't care. As long as you don't make me late for class."
And just like that, a strange bond began to form.
The Night Hunts Continue
Every evening, after school, Kenneth and Malrik trained in secret in the wooded outskirts. They hunted beasts, dissected them, learned from their movements. Kenneth's combat skill improved rapidly, especially in blood manipulation. His werewolf strength added explosive force to his strikes, while his vampire instincts allowed him to predict movement before it happened.
But not all was calm.
Sometimes Kenneth would lose control—his eyes glowing red, his claws extended, his voice animalistic. Only Malrik's chilling blood magic was enough to suppress him then.
"You are a prince of two legacies," Malrik told him after one such episode, holding Kenneth's bloodied body from behind, his arms wrapped tightly. "Do not let them devour you."
Kenneth growled, tears mixing with crimson on his face. "It's too loud. The blood… the instincts… I want to kill. And I hate it."
"I will help you tame it."
"But I'm not like the others."
"No," Malrik whispered. "You're not. You're something more."
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