Chapter 48

Nolan sat at the dining table, his hands trembling. His eyes were unfocused as he mindlessly stared at his food.

At some point, Master Lancel asked, "Are you okay?"

The boy slowly lifted his head, looking at his foster father. The clan lord's face had a tinge of concern to it. It was…parental. Or something like that.

The boy tried to speak but he could not open his mouth. In the end, he simply looked down at his trembling hands. A thought resounded in his head. 'Being a Legacy is a curse.'

All of the money and the fame in the world could not convince him otherwise, not after what he did. He spent hours washing his hands, but he could still feel the warm blood on them. Lancel did not push him, keeping his silence, which Nolan was thankful for. The man was very patient.

"One of the key characteristics of a good Legacy is the ability to kill remorselessly. One day, it will be a characteristic you possess," his father had told him when he was six. Nolan had always thought of it as a trivial thing. Just something to be done with. How wrong he was.

He remembered standing over the criminals the government arranged as he was urged to murder them. He was told they were all on death row for murder or other heinous crimes.

Despite the grave crimes they had committed, they all looked at him with the same scorn and hatred. Their cruel, filthy eyes accused him of betraying his kind. Like they were somehow better than him.

His muddled eyes suddenly focused on the fork in his hand. Its edges dripped viscous blood. He yelped, dropping the cutlery as he jumped out of his chair. The chair toppled, taking him with it. He grabbed at the table but only succeeded in dragging his plate down with him.

He was accompanied by the sharp ringing of metal and the chaotic clattering of smashed porcelain as he crashed on his back. He got to his hands and knees, and breathing heavily, he rummaged for the fork through the mess. He found it spotless.

'Am I going mad?'

He dropped the fork before he turned and bolted out of the dining room. Nova shouted after him but he did not heed her call.

He ran through the maze-like subterranean base, boarded the elevator, and placed his thumb on the fingerprint sensor. When the thick, grainy metal doors opened, he recognized the third floor that served as the living quarters of the Legacy family. Nova's room and his were also on this floor.

Nolan had never expected that they could have their quarters near the family. In his past foster homes, they were always kept an arm's distance away from the family. They were just wards. Not their children.

He didn't know if it was any different with the Gray Gust. Maybe the special treatment was because they were being relied upon as possible heirs. Nova was on guard, warning Nolan not to be fooled by Lord Lancel's amiability. "Trust no one," she had told him when they were alone. But then again, when was she ever not paranoid?

He stepped out of the elevator and entered the lobby. It was tastefully decorated. The lamps lit the lovely, cozy space from the corners atop dedicated tables. Their light reflected warmly off of the handcrafted wooden tiles.

As he took the space in, he realized that he had not explored his new home yet. Unlike in the past, he was not forbidden from doing so. The lobby split into four corridors, each with half a dozen rooms.

His room was right next to Nova's. Lord Lancel, Dane, and the deceased Eliana had their rooms in separate corridors as well. He knew which one his foster father stayed in, so he chose to explore the last two.

Randomly picking a corridor, he curiously ventured down it. A few wall lamps illuminated the quarters. The lamps were within a box of glass encaged by a black floral grid. The other corridor had simple, patternless lamps. He was probably in Eliana's quarters.

Judging by the layout of his quarters, he understood that out of the six rooms, two were training rooms, one was a library, another was a solarium, and the last two were bedrooms.

Randomly opening a door, he peeked inside to a training room. There were deep dents in the metal walls. Right. She was a Master. Exhaling, he closed the door.

The next room he walked into was the solarium. The place was vibrant and a bit unruly if truth be told. The plants were all long and tall, covering almost every inch of the room. Nolan doubted anyone could enjoy the sunlight here.

Shutting the door, he moved to the next door. The insides were dark, dusty, and gloomy. No one had been inside in a long time. It was the Master's bedroom, he reckoned. He looked around the corridor, hesitating.

When his foster father had informed his nephew of Eliana's death, Nolan had been intrigued. He didn't know anything about the person whose death was the sole cause of their adoption. Though he wanted to question Master Lancel, he couldn't muster the courage. While the man was amiable and patient, he seemed to live in the clouds. His mind was always elsewhere. He was probably mourning, and Nolan didn't want to pick at healing scabs.

'No one needs to know. I'll be in and out in a moment.'

Nolan stepped in and flicked the light switch at the side. Bright yellow light washed over the room. And then it was gone. The light rapidly faded, and the room was in darkness again.

'Odd. I didn't think Legacies could have electrical problems.'

He flicked the button off and then on again. The light came on again. Then it vanished. When the darkness returned this time, Nolan felt someone…or something looking at him. It was as though there were eyes all around him, watching him from under the cover of the darkness.