Beauty and A Scar.

As I lay on the bed, my mind drifted back to the events of the night Hagen mentioned.

I was on my way to talk to Isabelle about the scar on my arm and how it has been limiting my ability to use my body to the fullest. I also had a plan in mind: a duel with my younger brother, Hagen.

It was a way to settle our differences, prove my worth, and perhaps gain a semblance of respect in this shadow I've always lived under.

I made my way up the flight of stairs and down the long, winding hallway adorned with stunning pieces of craftsmanship that led to Isabelle's room.

Zorro, who was guarding the entrance, saw me, grumbled, and let me inside. Before I went in, I took a brief glance at the other guard, who was returning to their post from their break.

It was then that my eyes fell on her.

A figure that seemed to radiate strength and command respect. She strolled over to the door next to me, not even batting an eyelid.

Her eyes, which were a piercing shade of emerald green, seemed to hold secrets far beyond human understanding.

She suddenly noticed me gawking at her, and her eyes met mine. For those few moments our eyes conversed, time seemed to slow to an eternity.

Her sword that was slung behind her back emitted a strange, low-pitched hum and a green glow similar to the color of her eyes, and at that moment it hit me.

She is a bloodbearer.

Bloodbearers are individuals who possess the innate capability to manipulate blood, both within their bodies and in their external surroundings. And even more powerful wielders can sometimes unlock elemental affinities, making them even more powerful.

This extraordinary gift empowers them to perform a diverse range of actions, including enhancing their physical attributes, crafting pliable armor composed of blood, fashioning weapons, and many other remarkable feats.

Her aura was intimidating, and pressure began to build up in my lungs.

Zorro noticed me and quickly broke the silence with his deep, boomy voice.

"Ed, meet Valeria Ironheart, Vice Commander of the Second Legion and a dominion bloodbearer. Valeria, Eduardo Herakles, prince of the Heraklion Empire."

I thought she would be a strong knight, but I wasn't expecting a vice commander.

I love strong women. I turned to Zorro, a question lingering in my mind: "Zorro, how are you maintaining the position of commander if you are still in the dominion tier?" 

Zorro's chuckle cut through the tension, his gaze steady. "Don't mistake my Dominion Tier ranking for weakness," he stated, a mix of amusement and pride in his voice. "It's a dream for many, but only a select few ever reach this level of mastery.

Valeria scanned me up and down with her eyes, and I thought she may be assessing my strength.

We locked eyes again, and I started to sweat buckets. She let out a small chuckle to herself.

"My, my, Your Highness, have you found something captivating in my visage that demands such unwavering attention?"

Her voice sounded so delicate and soft, yet stern and commanding. My ears were in pure bliss, and I couldn't find words to answer her.

"It's just that your presence commands such admiration."

I managed to stammer out something.

"Oh, I'm well aware of the effect I have on people, Your Highness. But I must warn you, staring won't get you any closer to deciphering my secrets."

She said that in a very teasing voice, almost as if it were a mockery.

I was flustered without a response, and Zorro was trying his darndest to keep a straight face.

"V-very well then, Valeria. It was an honor meeting you. Now I have some pressing matters at hand that I must attend to, so please excuse me, and please call me Eduardo or Ed; drop the honorifics."

I excused myself and hurriedly made my way into the queen's room.

Fair enough, the room of the Heraklion Empress wasn't filled with anything else but the best of the best of everything.

From the furniture to the art pieces to the fabric of the curtain that lined the huge glass window, the room was the work of the best things that the artists and craftsmen in the kingdom had on offer.

The room was a spacious rectangle with a giant window overlooking the city.

I lingered for a few moments, immersing myself in the captivating sights of the city.

The night sky, painted like a canvas, is littered with stars twinkling like diamonds in the sky. Below, the labyrinthine network of cobblestone streets and alleys could be seen branching off from the castle, spreading into the city like a river delta meeting the sea.

The business street was visible from here, brightly lit up by the number of buildings and people there. Even at this late hour, it was brimming with life.

In the distance, I could see the rolling hills and forests lit in faint moonlight; they seemed to continue forever.

A small sense of awe washed over me as I looked at the scenery before me.

That was suddenly complemented by the melodious sound of someone playing a violin nearby.

I spun around and found myself face-to-face with the Heraklion Empress herself, Isabelle Herakles.

The first woman in three hundred years to claim the throne, she's ruled over Herkalion with an Iron Fist for the past fifteen years, since my father Solomon's untimely demise in battle.

Her reputation is one of universal fear among kings and other kingdoms, earning her the title "Isabelle, the Savage Lioness". She is one of the handful of people who are in the Legacy Tier, a tier only reserved for people who are truly gifted.

Though I didn't witness it, the stories say she single-handedly turned the tide in a decisive battle against Mythria, a war we weren't supposed to win. That is the power a single legacy-tier bloodbearer brings to battle.

Yet here she was, looking like any other woman past her prime. Her tired smile and weary appearance stood out.

"So, what's the reason for the summons, my beloved mother?"

She gestured to the seats by the fireplace and started walking. I followed and settled onto the lush couch.

Sitting beside me, she gently took my left arm, caressing it near the X-shaped scar from my childhood. Despite the years, that scar remained, its origin a mystery.

I stayed quiet, aware of the rarity of this gentle touch from the savage lioness.

I met her gaze, smiling in return. It was hard not to when she looked at me like that.

"Do you remember how you got this scar, Eduardo?"

"I don't."

"I'm a bloodbearer; Solomon was too; Hagen is as well. But you're not. This scar held the clue."

My gut twisted. Was she comforting me or hinting at something important? Her voice carried a certain weight.

Throughout my life, I've been considered second-rate, a failure, and unworthy of this supposed gift from God. While it doesn't bother me much now, it casts a shadow over my childhood.

Always in my younger brother's shadow, constantly compared to him. I'd let go of the desire to surpass him. No matter what I did, his genius outshone me.

"But Ed, you're special."

Lost in my thoughts, her words barely registered.

"What were you saying?"

A sudden tingling, like pins and needles, ran through my left arm, held by Isabelle.

A faint hum filled the room, emanating from her hand.

The room bathed in an ethereal blue glow, my scar lighting up.

"To be honest, I didn't expect it to come to this. But after considering everything, it's the only option I have left. I'm sorry, Ed."

"Huh? What are you talking about?"

"Transference."

The instant she spoke, the room's glow intensified, a surge of power engulfing me. It felt like my whole body was ablaze.

Time stretched, and eventually, Isabelle slumped on the couch as the blinding radiance subsided.

Zorro and Valeria, hearing all of the commotion and also seeing the glow, rushed in, saw us in that state, and immediately called for help.

I managed to hide the glowing scar on my left hand with some cloth I managed to find in the room before they could carry me out.

My replay of the incident was interrupted by the click of my room's door opening.

I didn't turn around to face that person or see what was happening, but it was Hagen. He came near the bed, pulled out a chair, and sat down.

"I know you didn't do anything to Mother, so rest easy. He clasped his hands together and looked like he was conflicted and confused too, not knowing what to say.

"Okay."

"Seeing the look on your face out there just confirmed that. Hagen said there was a sense of guilt in his voice for what he had done earlier.

"Thank you."

"I'm being completely honest, Ed. You lack the resolve to pull off such things. Also, since I have pretty much eliminated my suspicions about you, I would like to show you this."

Saying that, he reached into his pocket and pulled out an inconspicuous-looking orange-colored pouch. I had no clue why such a common-looking pouch was in the queen's room.

"What is that?"

"Evidence."

My gaze tightened.

"I scoured our queen's bedroom, and this was the only out-of-place object I came across."

"This pouch looks peculiar."

I got up from the bed, grabbed it out of his hand, and opened it up. I then emptied the contents of the pouch onto the study table.

Inside were a few coins, some rolls of empty paper, a pencil, hair clips, and a key.

Hagen and I looked at each other.

"So, this pouch belongs to a woman."

"or a man with long hair."

Saying that, Hagen pulled out a long, silver strand of hair.

"Do you think we can identify who it is with a strand of hair?" I asked, picking up the hair and examining it.

"No, but it should help us eliminate suspects." He said his eyes were focused on the strand of hair too.

He nodded in agreement. I proceeded to inspect the key, which instantly caught my attention.

It looked out of place. Its design was very intricate, with a level of complexity that rivaled the jewelry used by nobles.

"Summon Zorro at once."

Hagen hurried off as I continued inspecting the key.

In an instant, Zorro was back in my room, sitting at the desk across from me.

I took a good look at the key, then passed it to him.

"How many blacksmiths do you think would be able to replicate the level of complexity of this key? I asked Zorro, who I thought knew a bit about crafting.

"I might not be an expert in blacksmithing, but I can confidently say that very few blacksmiths would be capable of crafting something of such exceptional caliber." Zorro said, his hand caressing his forehead.

Hagen stood behind Zorro, nodding in agreement.

I tightened my grip on the key and thought about it a bit more.