Chapter Fifty-Eight: The Sage

I lay in a quiet sleep for three days in my hotel room, absorbing the primordial blood left behind by the Seventh Judgement. I could feel my strength restored to its peak, and the wounds caused by the blood pact had healed. Slowly, I opened my eyes in the darkness.

Though the room was shrouded in shadow, my vampiric eyes perceived clearly the unfamiliar figure seated before the heavy, tightly drawn floor-length curtains.

“Your Highness Liliana, you’re awake,” the stranger greeted me politely upon noticing my awakening.

“Who are you, or rather, what is your rank?” I asked coldly, fixing my gaze on him. To slip in unnoticed past Ang’s guards was no trivial feat. Had he chosen to strike while I slept…

“There’s no need to worry, Your Highness. I bear you no ill will. I am here only to speak with you,” the figure replied calmly. He stood, drew back the heavy curtains, and moonlight poured into the room, casting everything in silver clarity.

Standing at the window was an elderly man with white hair, a gold-rimmed monocle perched on his nose with a golden chain hanging along his left cheek. He cradled a thick tome to his chest with his left hand, his kindly gaze softened with a smile.

“Who are you, truly? As a guest, shouldn’t you introduce yourself?” I kept my eyes fixed on him, not relaxing for a moment.

“Heh. I am the sixth-ranked of the Thirteen Judgements, the Sage, of the Vampire Council’s Enforcement Division,” the old man introduced himself with a genial smile.

“So what brings the Sixth Judgement here in person? I doubt you’re here merely for a chat,” I replied warily, ready to act at any moment. None of the top seven Judgements were to be underestimated. If not for my powers restraining the Seventh, the outcome of our fight would have been uncertain. Now, facing the Sixth, I dared not let my guard down.

“Rest assured, Your Highness, I meant what I said—there is no malice in my visit.” The Sixth Judgement met my guarded look and explained, “Not all of the Thirteen Judgements belong to the Council. Some are fiercely loyal to the Prince.”

“And you? Are you with the Council, or my father?” I asked, not fully trusting his words.

“If I must say, I belong to neither. I am neutral. Just an old man who wishes not to be entangled in their conflict,” the Sage replied with a mellow laugh.

“Oh? Then why are you here? Is it truly just for conversation?” I asked, intrigued.

“If you don’t mind, may I attempt to divine your future, Your Highness?” The Sage opened the tome he had held against his chest. A gentle radiance emanated from the book as it floated before him.

“Divine the future?” I scoffed with disdain. “I’ve never believed in fate. My destiny is my own, and no one else’s to control.”

“Be at ease, Your Highness. No one may control your destiny, nor can anyone see it in full. Fate is a wondrous thing, always shifting, like a single drop of water whose end no one knows—will it join the sea, or vanish into the sky? Its elusiveness is what makes it beautiful. I am merely a guide, glimpsing possible paths in your fate. But what your future holds is for you alone to choose,” the Sage solemnly declared.

“Then what is the point of your divination?” I retorted with scorn.

“Because I seek to know the future of our kind. That future rests upon your shoulders—this was decided at your birth,” the Sage said, his expression suddenly grave.

His words stunned me. The future of the vampires—how could that possibly depend on me? What a joke. In the eyes of purebloods, I am but a ‘mongrel,’ a stain on the noble lineage. Even with blood closest to the progenitor, that alone should not grant me such influence.

Noting my shock, the Sage continued earnestly, “Perhaps you do not believe me, but this is the revelation I received when I heeded fate’s call. Thus, I beg you, allow me to read your future.”

“If you insist, then fulfill your wish,” I replied, recovering from my astonishment but still doubting his words. I could not believe I could determine the fate of the vampires, nor did I care to try. I am who I am—Liliana Litis Dracula—unbound by the fate of my kin.

“Thank you, Your Highness.” The Sage bowed. “Let us begin.” With that, he placed his hands on the gently glowing tome before him and whispered, “O fate, reveal yourself before me. Let me find a path through the mist, to the distant future. Book of the Sage, open your pages and lay her destiny bare before my eyes.”

At his invocation, the book whirled its pages as if guided by an unseen force. Words drifted out, forming sentences in the air before vanishing in a breathless succession.

“O fate, let me part the shrouding mists and glimpse your true form,” the Sage intoned at last. The book shone with dazzling light, the floating words forming a final sentence before falling silent, utterly still.

The Sage closed the book, and blood trickled from the corner of his mouth. “So I was too forceful after all?” he said with self-mockery.

“What did you see in my future?” I pressed him.

“I gleaned only scattered fragments, but if you wish to hear them, perhaps they may aid you,” the Sage replied quietly. He reopened the tome, and glowing words appeared above its surface.

“Princess of the Night, child of humanity, your meeting can only end in tragedy, bringing nothing but endless sorrow. The princess will slumber in eternal darkness, never to see the dawn.” The phrase faded, replaced by another.

“Sunlight will pierce the heart of the night princess; the scythe will claim the life of the human child. The child of man shall sleep forever in the dark, while the princess of the night turns to dust at dawn.” The words vanished, the book closed again, and everything grew still.

“What does it mean?” I pondered the vanished words. “Is this a prophecy of my death?” I asked the Sixth Judgement.

“Yes. This is your fate, your future, your own choice. You will perish at dawn, embracing eternal sleep,” the Sage answered somberly, eyes closed.

“Death? Perhaps that isn’t so bad. Maybe, that’s the end I’ve always expected,” I said with a bitter smile. “But I don’t believe in fate. If fate decrees my death, then I shall be reborn before its eyes,” I declared with resolve.

“Heh. As I said, I see only possibilities, not certainties. Your future depends solely on your choices,” the Sage said with a gentle smile. “Thanks to you, I have seen the future of our kind. My wish is fulfilled, and I will take my leave. Before I go, one last warning—beware the First Judgement. He is truly terrifying.” With that, the Sixth Judgement vanished from my room.

After he left, I murmured to myself in the quiet, “Death, is it? Perhaps I have always awaited it.”