Chapter 02 / The small table

January 1st, 15.002

La Paz, Ashveil Desert, Umbra [Vampire Continent]

The Command Chamber was quieter than the beach had been the night before — but not by much. The long steel table was already cluttered with papers, maps, and half-empty cups of bitter coffee.

Dominique slumped into his chair with a groan. “Saints, the hangover’s killing me.”

“What will kill us is what’s happening in Concordia.” Jeda cut in smoothly, uniform impeccable; he was looking like nothing had happened yesterday, not a glimpse of alcohol. 

He set a folded report on the table, his voice steady but edged. “During the festivities, while everyone was busy drinking in the new year, the Prowar party staged their move. They took over Concordia’s government. They jumped the elections. They’ve declared themselves the ruling council. Effective immediately.”

Dominique leaned forward, jaw tight. “A coup.”

“Not even pretending otherwise,” Ailin replied. “They’re calling it a ‘protective measure’ until the next war breaks out. Which, if you ask them, is any day now.”

Jeda whistled low, tapping his cigarette against the edge of the table. “Nothing like starting the year with a dictatorship.” He leaned back, smirking despite the dark news. “Guess that means we’re the only ones still pretending peace is possible.”

Axis ignored the grin, his tone clipped. “Pretend or not, La Paz exists because of that possibility. And now it will be tested harder than ever. We need to act fast.” He pulled the report closer, eyes scanning. “First, security. If Concordia decides to strike, do you think they will come for us? We can’t have their agents slipping into the Elite unnoticed.”

“Nobody knows about us. We are safe here, but the rest of the world does not”. Ailin added, calmly. 

“I’ll handle internal security,” Dominique said at once. “Even tho we are safe here, we will need to keep it that way”

“I’ll check the situation with our external contacts,” Ailin added, almost to herself. “We’ll need to know which Concordian families can be bribed, persuaded, or pressured into resistance. The Prowar council will make enemies, and fast. Those enemies need to be our allies.”

Axis nodded. “I’ll handle the political reach in Umbra. The continent has resources Concordia will need: fuel, water, trade routes. That gives us leverage, if we’re bold enough to use it. I’ll speak with my grandfather. Dominique, give me a hand with this.” Dominique nodded and Axis went on, “Do you think the vampire council won’t try to use this? Half of them are already sharpening their fangs. If Concordia wants war, Umbra will sell them the ammunition to start it."

“Maybe this won’t blow off now, but it is better to be prepared.” Dominique replied, agreeing with everything Axis just said. 

Jeda finally leaned forward, losing the last of his fake playfulness. “I’ll keep things moving around. I’ll talk to Eloise and Ryn, we need to start the training.” 

Silence settled for a moment, heavy with the shape of what was coming.

Then Dominique’s brow furrowed. “Where the hell is Tech? This is intel. His job. He should be here first, not last.”

Axis’s mouth twisted. “He never comes.”

“I’ll pass by the lab.” Jeda muttered, moving the unlit cigarette around his fingers. “One of these days, his brilliance is going to bite us in the ass.”

Ailin’s gaze slid toward the empty chair at the end of the table. “Genius or not, he doesn’t get to pick and choose the battles he fights.”

One by one, everyone left the room. Jeda was the last one, but before leaving the Command Chamber, he pressed ‘send’ on his phone, sharing the recording of the conversation they just had to a contact called ‘The President’.

♥︎

Jeda had barely taken two steps when a voice cut through the silence behind him, right outside the Command chamber.

“I won’t hide it. Listening to you working like that was kinda hot. Almost as exciting as watching you slice a demon in half.”

He froze, unlit cigarette halfway to his lips and his hands around it, about to put the flame to it. “I’m afraid if I turn, you’ll vanish again.”

“I’m not leaving.”

That was enough. He turned.

Sukira was leaning against the wall, dressed in full uniform. White shirt, black vest, short-skirt cut sharp at the hem, black tie perfectly knotted. Her usual boots and half-gloves dark against her pale hands, sunglasses pushed up into her short hair. She looked like she belonged here and like she didn’t, all at once.

“I can sense your heartbeat so loud it’s embarrassing,” she said, her voice flat but her eyes glittering.

“You’re not wrong.” Jeda smirked, pressing a hand to his chest. “I won’t ask stupid questions.” A pause. “Well, I’ll try.”

“Better not say anything at all and listen instead.” Her tone sharpened. “I like what you offered me. But let me leave everything very, very clear.”

“All ears, ma’am,” he cut in, too quick. Then, with a half-bow, “Sorry. Continue.”

She stepped closer, slow and deliberate. Her cold fingers brushed his neck, just where her personal tattoo lay etched into his skin. He stiffened, but didn’t move.

“You’ll have me as your Academy’s Commander,” she said. “I’ll train the lieutenants, build the special forces, keep this place breathing. But my mission against Elexi comes first. Always. Risha comes first. Always. The rest of it—your politics, your power plays—I don’t care at all.”

Jeda’s grin stretched, unbothered. “Deal. I’ll give you everything you need—resources, access, soldiers, my heart.” He let out a small laugh. “I don’t care if you never set foot in a meeting. Just make this place unbreakable. And when you find and go after Elexi, I’ll make sure you don’t do it empty-handed.”

For once, she didn’t answer with a smirk. Just silence, sharp as a blade.

Something broke in him. Out of sheer excitement—or maybe desperation—he caught her face in his hands and kissed her. Hard, quick, like testing the edge of a knife.

She didn’t return it. She didn’t push him away either.

When he finally pulled back, breath rough, he laughed under his breath. “You should go find Sunshine.”

Her eyes went colder. “That’s the last person I want to see right now.”

She started walking away and when Jeda tried to follow, she used her void and vanished. 

This woman’s gonna kill me. He smiled, alone in the middle of the corridor. When did she steal my cigarette?

♥︎

La Paz was built like no other city in the world — half fortress, half dreams, entirely secret.

At its center stood the Command Towers, a vast circular complex of vampire-carved concrete, its outer walls heavy and near-impenetrable. The citadel housed the Command Chamber, committee halls, and a few sealed quarters; a few new floors were under construction. Towers of pale crystal rose from its crown — elven work — glinting with captured sunlight during the day and humming with magic at night.

From the center radiated four main districts, like the arms of a compass:

North Wing — The Academy Grounds. Broad training fields, barracks for cadets, and sparring arenas. Here, the younger generation grew in mixed-race cohorts, learning not only combat but magic, history, languages, and strategy.

South Wing — Research & Innovation. Laboratories, workshops, and archives. Tech’s domain. The smell of oil and ink often bled into the air here, blending oddly with the pristine magic-made elven gardens nearby.

West Wing — Civil Quarter. Small apartments for families, markets, and a regular school for children too young to train. It was the soft heart of La Paz, always filled with laughter, noise, playgrounds and music.

East Wing — Medical Complex. A cluster of white-stone halls threaded with elven crystal channels to amplify healing magic. Non-magical infirmaries stood beside them, designed for surgery, alchemy, and the care of those whose wounds magic could not mend.

All of it was encircled by the protected perimeter: wards carved deep into the desert stone, their lines crossing like veins. Beyond it stretched the Ashveil sands — barren, hot, endless — a natural shield that kept La Paz hidden from the world. On the other end, a ruthless ocean made it also impossible to arrive from other continents. 

♥︎

I’m running late now, damn you, Sukira. Jeda thought to himself as he checked the time, almost jogging to his next appointment. But his hand lingered unconsciously between his lips and his neck, touching her mark(s) on his skin. 

The Medical Complex smelled of crushed herbs and clean stone, sharp with the faint sting of alcohol. Eloise stood in the entry hall. After months of wearing the same elvery clothes, she had finally changed into the Elite’s uniform: a white plain short skirt over a fitted long-sleeve shirt, a small white tie perfectly adjusted at her collar, and long white boots. Her hands twisted nervously at the cuffs. She hadn’t been told why she was summoned — only that Jeda was waiting.

Or at least, he should have been waiting at the door.

Then he appeared, uniform immaculate as if he hadn’t touched a bottle the night before. His grin widened when he saw her.

“There she is,” he said, spreading his arms as though he wasn’t the one arriving late. “Our brand-new head of the Medical Department.”

Eloise blinked. “What?”

Jeda pushed off the pillar, strolling closer. “The Small Table decided. Congratulations, cupcake. Or should I say Commander now?”

“I—wait, what do you mean head? That’s—”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” Jeda cut in smoothly. “You’ll run the whole Medical Section. Magical, non-magical, training, logistics. All of it. You’ll answer directly to the Committee, and everyone else in this building answers to you.”

He took Eloise’s trembling hands and pressed a small golden key into her palm. “Here’s the key, by the way.” 

She swallowed hard, heart racing. “I’ve never—”

“There’s always a first time,” Jeda interrupted again, this time softer. “You’re not new to this. You’re just official now.”

He gestured, and two figures stepped from the adjoining corridor. “These will be your subordinates. You can rely on them as they’ll rely on you. I picked them myself.” He winked before Eloise could protest.

“No—Jeda, don’t—” Eloise stumbled over her words, trying to catch him before he slipped behind two pairs of eyes that were fixed on her, she turned slowly.

“I’ve read every one of your books, Lady Eloise,” said the first — a tall, sharp-eyed elven mage with blue silver hair pulled back into a slick ponytail. Her uniform was a long white straight skirt and a white shirt, her long slim tie tucked neatly in place. She bowed with precision. “I’ll oversee the Arcane Healing Branch. Spellwork, blessings, ritual cleansing. My team already maintains the crystal wards through the infirmaries. I can’t wait to see what we achieve together under your command.”

“...” Eloise was in shock, words failing her.

“You forgot your name,” came a deeper, warmer voice. A broad-shouldered human stepped forward, scar running vertically along the side of his neck. His white shirt was marked with ink and old bloodstains, sleeves rolled up to his forearms. “She’s Zira. I’m Kael but most people just call me K. I’ll take the Non-Magical Medicine Branch: surgery, alchemy, trauma response. Everything that needs steel and hands instead of spells. Though honestly…” He scratched his jaw with a faint smile. “I think we could come up with a better name for it.”

Both of them looked at Eloise expectantly.

She shifted on her feet, eyes flicking to Jeda. “I don’t… I don’t know what to say.”

“Say yes,” Jeda said, smirking. “Then start telling them what to do. That’s the job. And trust me, they’re lucky to have you.” He waved a hand dismissively as he turned down the corridor. “I need to keep moving. I’m behind schedule. Bye-bye.”

He was gone before Eloise could protest again, leaving her with the weight of the golden key and two subordinates already waiting for her orders.

♥︎

Crossing the central courtyard into the West Wing always felt like stepping into another city. The heavy stone of vampire walls gave way to sleek lines of steel and glass, humming with wards and circuits. The air smelled of oil, ozone, and ink.

Halfway across the path, Jeda slowed. A familiar laugh cut through the noise in his mind.

Risha darted between the pillars, cheeks flushed, eyes bright, chased by Reno and Haru. Their sparklers from the night before had been replaced with chalk sticks, which they used to mark hiding spots on the concrete.

“Soldierrrrr” Risha shouted when he spotted him, already breathless. “You’re it if you catch me!”

I’m still just a soldier? Jeda arched a brow. “I’d catch you in two steps, pup.”

“As if!” Risha squealed, disappearing behind a column. Reno followed with a grin sharp as his teeth, and Haru, slower, laughed as he tripped over his own shoelaces.

For a moment, Jeda’s grin softened — but only for a moment. He shoved his hands into his pockets and moved on.

♥︎

Inside, the Research Wing buzzed with energy. Assistants in crisp uniforms hurried past with stacks of papers or trays of equipment. Projection screens displayed maps of magical flux across the continents. Some rooms glowed with runes, others hissed with the sound of firing mechanisms.

Jeda poked his head into a testing chamber where cadets fired rifles that spat bursts of crystallized energy. In the next, alchemists brewed shimmering fluids under exhaust hoods. Another room was darker, filled with suspended metal arms constructing some weapon that looked like it had been stolen from the future.

Everywhere he went, people ignored him. He wasn’t welcome here. Not in Tech’s kingdom.

“Where’s your Queen?” Jeda asked a passing assistant. No answer. The man didn’t even look up.

“Not very friendly, are you?” Jeda muttered, flicking a switch on a console just to see what it did. The panel sparked to life with a holographic map of the base. “Ooh. Fancy.”

“Don’t touch that.” The voice came from behind him. Cold, clipped.

Tech stood in the doorway, hair tied back but still falling across one eye. White shirt, black trousers. Loafers. Black tie. Uniform pristine except for the grease-stains on his cuffs. Regular uniform, nothing special, but a long white robe on top of that. His gaze was sharp, but his tongue... sharper.

Sami was right behind him, boots heavy against the floor, her red hair tied in a loose ponytail. She looked entirely at home here, though her uniform shirt was slightly unbuttoned, her tie was lying around on her desk. Instead of plain black fabric, she combined leather pants and a blazer. No tie. 

“You found me,” Jeda said, spreading his arms. “Or maybe I found you. Depends on who’s writing the story.”

Tech didn’t bite. He stepped forward, plucked a tool off the console, and set it back in place with precise irritation. “What do you want?”

“I want you to join the fucking meetings. If you do that, maybe I won’t come here to play with your toys,” Jeda said, grin gone now. “Prowar party staged a coup during the celebrations. They took the government and–”

“Yes. I know.” Tech didn’t even blink. 

Jeda blinked right back at him and turned around both ways. “Someone else arrived before me to fill you in or what–”

Tech’s smirk sharpened into a knife. “Who the hell do you think makes the information reach you in the first place?” He leaned closer. “The committee sits and reads. I’m the reason there’s anything to read at all.”

Jeda opened his mouth, but Sami cut in before the sparks turned into fire, just calm, steady, the way a river cuts through stone without needing to try.

She glanced at the map Jeda had activated, her eyes fixated over the glowing points. “If we want to know Concordia’s real moves, we don’t watch the speeches. We can track their supply lines. Place a marker on fuel exports, and we’ll see exactly how fast they’re mobilizing.”

For a moment, Tech’s entire focus shifted. His annoyance melted into pure calculation. “Fuel exports,” he muttered, already reaching for a datapad. “Yes. Yes, that could work. If we track the shipments, we’ll know where they’re striking before we can take the intel to us.”

He brushed past Jeda like he wasn’t there, pulling up schematics and notes, muttering numbers under his breath. Sami fell in step beside him, her smile faint but satisfied.

Left in the doorway, Jeda raised his hands in mock surrender. “Well. Glad I could help.” He tipped an invisible hat toward Sami. “Don’t let him forget to eat.”

Neither of them answered.

Jeda grinned to himself, shoved his cigarette between his teeth unlit, and strolled back down the corridor.

♥︎

Hours passed, the night finally arrived. The dining hall in the Civil Quarter had been stripped of its civilian warmth for the evening. Long tables had been dragged together into rows, plates clattering, voices rising and tumbling over one another. The smell of simple, homemade food was impregnated everywhere. 

“This is getting cramped”, Jeda pointed out as looking at everyone crouched at the tables. 

It was a temporary solution. The real dining hall — along with two floors of rooms, a comms center, and a military infirmary — was still under construction inside the Command Tower. Axis had explained earlier; it was all part of the “war plan,” separating the military elite from the civilians once things escalated. For now, regular families stood among soldiers, cadets, and officers, all in one place.

Jeda slouched at the end of one of the largest tables, a grin tugging at his lips as he watched the chaos.

Reno and Risha were racing spoons across the table, knocking over cups and nearly spilling soup with each lap. Haru sat between them, the picture of calm, sliding plates out of danger before they were overturned.

“Do you two ever breathe?” Jeda asked, catching one of the spoons mid-race.

“No!” Reno shouted, reaching for it. “Yes!” Risha shouted at the same time.

Haru sighed and smiled at the same time, reaching for his bread roll. “Reno, sit down.” He said in a sweet voice, placing one of his hands on the little vampire’s back, almost trying to avoid the other kid from falling and injuring himself. 

Reno looked at him and did as commanded, understanding the warm gesture. He still kept playing around, but softer. 

Across the table, Elon sat quietly, arms crossed, watching the boys with that unreadable expression of his.

Jeda leaned in, voice lower, though still cutting through the noise. “So, Sunshine. You hear the latest?” His tone suggested Sukira, but Elon’s answer surprised him. 

“Congratulations are in order.” He bowed toward Eloise.

Eloise nearly dropped her fork. “Me?”

Oh, so he hasn’t found out yet. Jeda switched easily and continued: “Commander Eloise, head of the Medical Department.” Jeda clapped his hands together, loud enough for the kids to notice. “Try not to faint from the glory.”

Risha immediately perked up. “You’re in charge of all the healers? That’s so cool!”

Reno snorted. “Healing’s boring.”

“Tell that to your arm when you break it,” Haru said flatly, sipping his soup.

“Jokes on you, I already broke my arm TWICE”, Reno replied with a bright and proud tone not quite accurate for what he was saying. 

Dominique, seated in front of Eloise, gave her a look so tender it might as well have been shouted. “You’ll do brilliantly.”

Eloise ducked her head, cheeks pink, though she couldn’t keep the smile from spreading. “I—I met my team today. They’re amazing. Zira’s already drawing up new ward patterns, and Kael—‘K’—he’s got ideas for improving trauma rotations. Honestly, I think they’ll be teaching me as much as I teach them.” Her voice wavered, but pride shone through.

“That’s how you know it’s a good team,” Axis said from across the table. He was halfway through explaining construction timelines to a bored-looking cadet but tipped his glass toward her. “The leader learns with the rest.”

The noise swelled as Sami arrived, dropping into the seat beside Jeda with a heavy clatter of her boots. She snagged a plate without asking.

“Where’s your partner in crime?” Dominique asked dryly.

“In the lab,” Sami replied through a mouthful of bread. “Where else? I suggested something about tracking Concordia’s fuel lines and now he’s buried under a mountain of schematics. Won’t see him till dawn.”

“Sounds like love,” Jeda teased.

Sami threw a crust at him. “Sounds like obsession.”

Ryn, sitting further down the table, said nothing, but her stare lingered briefly on Dominique before turning to her food.

The chatter rolled on: cadets swapping stories of sparring matches, officers comparing scars, Reno and Risha arguing over which of them would win in a duel (Haru calmly declared neither). Laughter echoed, plates scraped, voices overlapped.

But even in the noise, one absence was obvious. The seat beside Elon stayed empty. No one asked.

♥︎

The unfinished rooftop of the Command Citadel was quiet, only the desert wind cutting across its skeletal beams. Sukira leaned against the low wall, cigarette burning between her fingers. The glow of the buildings below was faint, muffled by scaffolding and dust, the voices from the dining hall long gone.

Bootsteps scraped the concrete. Sami emerged from the emergency stairwell, her hair pulled back, uniform half-unbuttoned. She spotted Sukira immediately and made her way over.

“Figures,” Sami said, brushing the smoke away from her with a disgusted face. “So tell me… how the hell are you still around?” She scanned Sukira and her full uniformed outfit. 

“Did you place some tracking device on me I haven’t figured out?” Sukira said in amusement.  

“Actually, I did. But I asked first”. She mocked her old friend as she demanded an explanation. 

Sukira exhaled, smoke curling past her lips. Her eyes stayed fixed on the stars.

♥︎

The backyard of the Academy wing was empty except for her. Sukira stirred awake on a stone bench, half-dreaming, the taste of alcohol still clinging to her mouth. Her guarding hound right next to her. The sun was just cresting the horizon. For the first time in months, she felt sure. Today, she would gather her things, vanish before anyone could stop her. She had fun during the New Year’s Eve celebrations, but now it was time to leave. 

She crossed the courtyard toward the main Tower with a conviction that could be envied by many. She was lost in her own thoughts. Trying to decide the last part of her plan. Should I say goodbye to him? 

Risha sat on a bench, legs dangling, a blanket sliding off his shoulders. He looked up the moment he sensed her, and his face lit up. She was so focused she passed by right next to him. 

“YOU ARE LATE!” he shouted, as if nothing had changed. As if they were still on their normal routine. Training at dawn. No matter what. Sunshine or rain. Tired or not. 

Sukira froze, a few steps upfront the kid. 

“First time you are late! You’ll have to do some planks.” Risha scrambled off the bench and placed himself in front of her. 

“Hey!!” He started climbing onto her like he always did, tugging at her arms. “You’re not listening!”

Oh, brat… This can’t be happening. 

He stopped, hands small and insistent against her cheeks. His blue, deep eyes fixed on her crimson gaze, the one she unlocked only when her emotions were too heavy to hide. He looked at her with that sharpness she’d learned to dread and love. 

“When are you leaving?”

This can’t be happening. 

The words hit her like a blade. The same question Elon had asked. The same Jeda had thrown at her hours before. Her throat opened to answer — now — but the word caught.

Risha’s voice softened, too steady for someone his age. “...can you please stay here with me?”

She broke into her knees. Leaving Risha to be a bit taller than her in that position, his small hands still grabbing her face. 

The question undid her. She had spent the entire night repeating to herself that she would leave as soon as the sun came up, that it was the safest thing for everyone: cut clean, follow the route, go back to being nothing but mission and silence. Her whole life had been like that; no one could hold her. Not contracts, not mercenaries, not lovers. She listened to a plan, weighed it, and if it didn’t match hers, she simply walked away. Period. She didn’t negotiate. She left no room for gray.

And yet, here she was now, knees pressed into the floor of La Paz, her face framed by the warm hands of a kid who could barely stay standing from sleep. It was ridiculous how easy it would be to push him away, lie to him, disappear before breakfast. But that “stay with me” had sunk deeper than any bullet. She realized, with a tired kind of anger, that for the first time in a hundred years she had a reason to stay still… and that reason was trembling in front of her, waiting for a response.

“Yes,” she whispered, blinking slowly, defeated, looking at the floor.

A slow smile spread across his face. “Maybe we should skip training today… I feel you are tired. You have tired eyes, yes…” He yawned, tugging at Cloud, who appeared along with Sukira, and padded toward the dorms.

What had just happened? That little kid owned me completely. 

She stood there long after he was gone. When she finally moved, it was toward Ailin’s quarters. And by mid-morning, she was wearing the Elite’s uniform. Standing on the side of the Command Chamber’s door. 

♥︎

The memory faded with the drag of her cigarette.

Sami watched her quietly, then blew smoke toward the desert. “You know… those two grown-ups in love with you thought they could convince you to stay.” Her tone was teasing, but her eyes were steady.

Sukira tilted her head, but said nothing.

Sami smirked. “Turns out your heart already belongs to another… a little man with sharper eyes than all of us.”

“So… how’s that tracing thing you placed on me?” Sukira changed the topic as there was nothing else to add.

“Oh, not telling you. I’m still working on it. Nice to have you on board, night!”. Sami said and disappeared using the emergency stairs. 

♥︎

Sukira voided herself first to Risha’s bedroom. She didn’t enter — only cracked the door. Risha was asleep, blanket tangled around him, Cloud curled at his feet like a sentinel beast. That was enough. She let her shoulders drop a fraction, safe in the certainty they were both okay.

Immediately after, she tried to void to her own room—

“I can’t move if you’re grabbing me,” she murmured, low, almost whispering, her eyes still fixed forward. His hand was around her wrist, warm, unyielding.

“This information would have come in handy a time ago,” Elon said. His voice carried a dry, sarcastic lilt, not very common on him, but the undercurrent was too obvious: he was happy. The joy of actually seeing her still here. “Uniform and all? They not only convinced you, they brainwashed you?”

She turned then, sharp as a whip. In a blink, his back hit the wall, and her knife pressed to his throat. “Don’t get it wrong, blondie. I’m here under conditions I set myself–”

Elon didn’t flinch. “That’s not true. Big liar.” He leaned into the blade, eyes bright, interrupting her before she could finish talking. The corner of his mouth tugged up, not mocking — honest. “You’re here because one small boy asked you to stay.”

“Tch.” The sound slipped from her before she could stop it. Her grip tightened on the hilt. She wanted to deny it, wanted to say no, I don’t bend for anyone. But the image of Risha’s face that morning, blanket falling from his shoulders, bed hair, his voice too steady for his age — Can you please stay here with me? — burned behind her eyes.

“You think that–,” she said finally, forcing the words out like steel.

Elon’s expression softened, though his smile stayed. He interrupted her again. “I think you are very strong. You’ve been fighting alone your whole life. Risha is the first one who gave you a reason to stop running.”

Her knife pressed harder for a second, enough to draw a thin red line of blood. He didn’t move.

“You talk too much,” she muttered.

“You listen too little,” he shot back, calm as ever.

For a moment, neither moved — both unwilling to give ground. He opened his mouth to say something else, but she vanished before he could. 

♥︎