Vesper stood still. Processing the words of the vampyre monarch. His head was slightly tilted downward and his expression at this moment of time was rather stoic.
Meanwhile, behind him, Amanda pissed herself in her pants. Knoncan had his weapon in his hand but he hadn't moved a single inch.
Whereas Danisque stared at the Vampyre Monarch deep in contemplation, unbothered that person in front of him… was the nemesis of humanity.
One of the prime figures in the darkest ages of humanity was when it was enslaved.
"So Vesper, what do you think?"
Luscaine smirked.
Vesper raised his head slightly and whispered, his voice breathy.
"This is hard to understand. The math truly is rather complicated."
A chuckle resounded across the chamber. It sounded less like a laugh and more like a cackle, albeit it wasn't. It had a soft texture, but to the ears of the cohort, it wasn't anything less than a monstrous declaration.
"You have a humor, little pureblood. Lysbelle has always had taste, well it comes from my influence. I would rather wish, you were my pet instead honestly."
Vesper's face grimaced, and he raised his head to match the Vampyre Monarch's visage as a slow amused smile crept onto his own.
"Pet this, pet that. Y'all Vampyre Monarchs are full of arrogance aren't you? Even Lysbelle… but if I remember it well… you said I am special… and you know why? Not because I am one of your sires… a little lesser in rank in comparison to you… But because like you said… my great-grandmother, the grandmother of you… Your esteemed highness and the mother of the great blood god… tried to show me her face and if my math is right… not to you?"
Vesper stared at Luscaine's face to observe any reaction and to his expectations it was as expected.
The amusement in his eyes turned cold as the half smirk turned curled away into a frown as if seriously contemplating Vesper's words.
"Well, I did spend centuries… starving myself, weeping… collecting souls… performing the ritual to attain her grace to obtain father's tear… but you are right… for some reason… she favors you. A newly sired pureblood. One whose blood even betrayed our species. It's mysterious, very mysterious… but who am I to question her favor? I am merely nothing in front of her."
Luscaine's stoic face slowly grew wide, and a small chuckle rolled out of his tongue. He glanced at Vesper with a face of delight as he spoke.
"I do take back my words. You are not a pet. You are a mongrel. My apologies. It's baffling but you are right… she chose you… but unfortunately… You are not ready."
Vesper frowned… this reaction was a little bit unexpected. The Vampyre Monarch… arrogant as he was seemed humbled toward his grandmother.
Even more… he seemed to revere her, Vesper could sense the unquestioned devotion toward her.
"Read for what?"
Vesper could not help but ask.
Luscaine's gaze turned toward him as a smile crept onto his face. He did not answer and instead he raised his hand.
Between his fingers, held delicately like the most precious thing in the universe was a drop.
"Guess what this is."
It was not a mere physical drop but it floated above his palm, glowing faintly pulsing with a pale black light.
Vesper almost instinctively suppresses his impulse to scratch his eyebrows.
"It looks like an elixir."
Luscaine's smirk deepened.
"Even better. It is a tear of the weeping mother. Greater than any elixir. It's a drop of pure divine essence. In normal circumstances, nobody could ever ingest this… well nobody can unless they attain her favor. Even I… have only ever attained her grace and not her favor."
Luscaine paused, he looked at Vesper and spoke ahead.
"You possess her favor though, Vesper. If you drink it, you may see her truly. You will know her. You will become what she needs to become… and you may become a prophet of the Vampyre Race, all those that have ever received her favor have been so. You however… possess her deepest favor out of all the prophets before."
Vesper frowned, he contemplated those words before deciding what to speak.
"And why would I want to become a prophet? There must also be a catch to this."
Luscaine stared at the young pureblood in front of him for a few moments before speaking.
"You will become a prophet because she desires so… what she desires is also father's will. I will ensure you ingest it. As for the catch…?"
Luscaine glanced at the cohort members. Then he spoke softly.
"The catch is this. You will not be able to control what happens next. Your hunger which you have been suppressing will awake and it will demand blood. It will… feed."
Vesper's blood went cold as he stared at the drop of the Weeping Mother's tear.
"How do you know about the hunger?"
Luscaine stared at Vesper as if he were an idiot for a moment before finally sighing.
"All I know is hunger. Why do you think that my grandmother weeps? It's because I have the same hunger, nephew. Because every vampyre does. Because your great-grandmother's tear does not come without restraint."
He held the drop higher, staring at it as if it were a gemstone… his eyes filled with fervor.
"She is the Weeping Mother. She is grief. She is need. When you drink, you will need as she needs."
His eyes moved to the cohort again.
"And there are three of them. Perfect. Three is the Trinity. It is the absolute balance."
Vesper's eyes widened, he didn't even dare to turn back to see the reactions of his fellow comrades. Even if for a short amount of time.
"No."
His voice resounded across the chamber. It was barely a whisper.
Luscaine's eyes tilted downward slowly as a small smirk formed on his visage.
"Yes. You will."
Vesper shook his head staring at Luscaine with conviction.
"No. I won't."
"You will." Luscaine's voice was gentle. Kind. Horrifying and above all. It sounded like a command.
"You have no choice. She demands it and so it shall be answered. Would you rather feed now? Or perhaps later on strangers? Without any shred of self-control?"
Vesper shook his head.
"There must be another way. I do not want to consume it. You said there are other prophets."
Luscaine shook his head. A sad smile crept upon his face as if he looked at the child with pity… his eyes however remained cold.
"Vesper. This is not a request."
He lowered the drop in his palm as it floated toward the silver-haired boy as a hypnotic allure emanated from the Vampyre Monarch's voice.
"I command you."