Streets of Ravetham

As Kaelen cruises through the neon-lit streets of Ravetham, signs advertising enchanted weapons and arcane services flash by, casting vibrant reflections across his sleek Audi’s windshield. His mind races with thoughts of the upcoming heist, but something else pulls his attention.

He glances up to the sky and spots the legendary pink space dolphin, Delphinus, soaring gracefully above the city. The creature’s celestial body twirls through the air in a mesmerizing dance, leaving trails of stardust in its wake. But Kaelen knows better than to be enchanted by Delphinus’s beauty. The dolphin is infamous, a psychic murder machine and a member of the Justice Guild. Whenever Delphinus is around, it means chaos.

And then, Kaelen spots it—a pack of wyverns swarming the park below, screeching as they terrorize civilians. Panic erupts on the streets as people scream and scatter in every direction. Kaelen grits his teeth and hopes the madness doesn’t spill over onto the roads, where he’s racing toward his destination.

Delphinus, with its eerie telekinetic powers, lifts park benches effortlessly into the air. With a playful grace, the dolphin slams the benches into the wyverns, the impact echoing through the park as the creatures shriek in pain. The scene is violent yet strangely majestic, as Delphinus dodges their retaliatory attacks with ease, performing a sadistic aerial ballet.

Suddenly, a wyvern crashes into a car not far from Kaelen’s vehicle, the metal crumpling under the beast’s weight. The sound is deafening, and he knows whoever was inside the vehicle didn’t survive. Nearby, another wyvern is crushed in a fountain, sending water splashing across the chaotic park.

People around him watch in a twisted form of excitement, captivated by the carnage. The cheers and recording phones only spur Delphinus on as the dolphin finishes off the remaining wyverns, circling the park one last time before ascending into the sky, trailing glittering stardust behind.

Kaelen sighs, shaking off the surreal sight. He reaches for his phone, needing something to clear his head. He pulls up Shadow Syndicate’s latest track, “Night Riders,” and lets the beat wash over him as the car hums along.

The chorus resonates with him:

“Night riders, we the fighters, never backin’ down, In the streets, in the skies, we gon’ own this town. Superpowers, dark hours, we the ones they fear, Shadow Syndicate, we rise, make it crystal clear.”

Kaelen repeats that verse in his mind as he drives, the rhythm syncing with the beat of his heart, his thoughts sharpening with every line. The song fades just as he reaches his destination: Valerian’s mansion.

The mansion looms ahead, surrounded by towering stone walls and an intricately designed wrought-iron gate. Gargoyles perch at the top of the gateposts, their stony eyes watching all who approach. Behind the gate lies a vast, manicured yard, lined with ancient oak trees that seem to whisper secrets of the past. The lawn is pristine, and ivy climbs the stone exterior of the mansion like delicate lace, softening the structure’s imposing aura. The mansion itself is a blend of gothic architecture and modern touches, with tall, arched windows that give off a faint glow from within, hinting at the opulence inside.

Kaelen pulls up to the gate and presses the intercom button. The gate creaks open, revealing a long cobblestone driveway flanked by flower beds filled with black roses and moon lilies that glow faintly under the night sky.

At the end of the driveway stands a strikingly beautiful high elf maid with alabaster skin, her slender form clothed in an elegantly simple, high-collared dress. She has long, blond hair that cascades down her back and piercing icy blue eyes that seem to glow slightly in the dim light. Next to her stands a valet, a half-elf with sleek, well-groomed hair tied back into a ponytail. He wears a tailored suit and steps forward to take Kaelen’s keys, opening the car door with a bow.

As Kaelen steps out, the maid approaches, her voice soft yet commanding. “Welcome. Please, follow me.”

The mansion’s entrance is just as grand as the exterior, with a towering double door made of dark oak, carved with intricate runes and symbols that pulse faintly. Inside, the air is cool and the atmosphere almost reverent. The foyer is lit by an enormous crystal chandelier that casts shimmering patterns across the black marble floor. The walls are adorned with paintings depicting ancient battles, mythic creatures, and surreal landscapes. A winding staircase curves upward, its banisters carved from obsidian, leading to the upper floors.

The maid leads Kaelen past several rooms where he catches glimpses of other inhabitants, most of whom are lycanthropes clad in druidic garb. In one room, Kaelen spots Ragnar Fang, sporting an eye patch, laughing heartily as he plays a strategy game with his pack members.

Finally, they reach the dining room. The space is richly decorated with dark mahogany furniture and a grand fireplace that crackles with blue flames. At the head of the table, drinking from a golden goblet, sits Valerian, a man who exudes both charm and danger in equal measure. His black hair is slicked back, with a few loose strands framing his chiseled features. His eyes are a striking blue-green, flickering with intelligence and something far darker. His pale yet flawless skin hints at his true nature. His angular jaw and sharp features give him a handsome look.

Valerian gestures for Kaelen to sit beside him. “Join me,” he says, his voice smooth and commanding.

As Kaelen takes his seat, the maid gracefully places a golden goblet in front of him. The metallic surface gleams under the dim light. Kaelen glances down, expecting wine, but the moment the scent reaches him, he stiffens. It’s blood. His eyes narrow as he looks at Valerian.

“You don’t expect me to drink blood, do you?” Kaelen asks, suspicion creeping into his voice.

Valerian’s expression doesn’t waver. “Yes. If we are to do business, I need to know I can trust you. And what better way than this?”

Kaelen hesitates, his instincts screaming that something is wrong. But no magic emanates from the goblet, and he knows he’s immune to most poisons. After a tense moment, he lifts the goblet to his lips and drinks. The taste is… different. A rush of energy floods his body, a primal hunger suddenly satisfied. It’s as if he’s scratched an itch he didn’t know he had.

Something is definitely off.

“What was in that blood?” Kaelen demands, his voice low and dangerous. “Don’t lie to me.”

Valerian chuckles, a soft, unsettling sound. “Nothing. That was ordinary blood from my maid, Loren,” he says, gesturing to the maid who had led Kaelen in and given him the goblet. “My job for you is to allow Loren to hone her skills by taking care of you. She must be allowed to go with you wherever you go from now on. Also, you must drink her blood on a regular basis. I’ll pay you $1,000 a week. Deal?”

Kaelen hesitates, red flags going off in his mind. No one ever offers free money and a personal maid without a catch. Either Valerian wants to spy on him or something else is up. But the offer is too good to pass up, so he decides to take the risk. “Deal,” he says.

Now, all Kaelen has to do is explain this to his brother, Elara, and his boss Zeke tonight somehow.