The night Lydia Blackwood’s beloved, Celeste, coughed incessantly, I knew what was coming. They whispered that the heart of a serpentine familiar could cure any ailment, any lung rot. So Lydia ordered my ancient familiar, the very viper that had been coiled around my wrist for eons, to be cleaved in two. Its living heart, still beating, was ripped from its flesh. Eons of arcane power, cultivated over millennia, evaporated in an instant, turning to ash. My eyes widened, bloodshot with horror, as I desperately tried to shield my familiar, to protect the dying serpent. “You know my true nature!” I pleaded, my voice raw, a choked gasp. “You know that if the viper vanishes, if its essence is destroyed, I cannot survive in this world!” But Lydia only sneered, a cold, mocking laugh. Right before my eyes, she peeled away its iridescent scales, flaying it alive. “Only Grandmother would believe your wretched lies,” she spat, contempt dripping from every word. “Do you really think you can deceive me with such theatrics? It’s just a common snake, after all. I’ll buy you another one, a dozen even.” By morning, my hair had turned stark white. Clutching the jar containing the remnants of my familiar, I sought out Lady Blackwood. “I have shielded House Blackwood from its final calamity,” I stated, my voice hollow, echoing the emptiness within. “I have settled the debt of gratitude for your mother saving my life a century ago. Now, my physical form is ruined, and I can no longer offer my protection to this lineage. Release me.” … An ethereal mist curled slowly upwards from the severed halves of the viper. The healer shook his head, his face grim. “A strike to its life-force. Whoever severed this familiar knew exactly how to extinguish its essence completely. There’s no saving it now.” I scooped the two bloodied, mangled halves into a jar with my own hands. My familiar and I shared an empathic connection. Even now, I could feel the agonizing pain of a blade severing my lower back, the raw, tearing sensation of my skin being flayed alive. Lady Blackwood clutched my arm, her frail hand trembling, as she cursed Lydia, calling her an abomination. “I warned her a thousand times! That viper is your very lifeblood! How could she dare to rip out its heart with her own hands!” My legs, numb and unresponsive, dragged forward. Lydia knew better than anyone the bond I shared with my familiar. Yet she had cleaved the viper in two before my very eyes. She had watched me collapse in agony, then seized the back of my neck, snarling, “You play-act so well! You used these theatrics to trick Grandmother into believing your absurd tales before. Did you truly think I’d believe you’re some ancient spirit?!” With that, she ordered the familiar’s heart to be removed. She watched me fall to my knees, writhing in soul-shattering pain, then tossed the two halves of the viper onto the floor before me like garbage. “If you insist your eons of power were stored within this viper, then it must be incredibly potent. If it actually cures Marcus’s cough, I’ll get you another one to continue your little charade for Grandmother.” Lost in thought, the butler rushed into the healer’s office. He placed a cardboard box into my hands, saying Lydia had ordered it delivered to me immediately. I fought through the intense pain racking my body and opened the box. Suddenly, a large hawk flew out. The hawk seemed to sense the lingering essence of my familiar in the jar. It swooped down, its predatory gaze fixed on the container. I instinctively shielded the jar with my back, trying to conjure a protective charm, but my hands remained unresponsive, lifeless. I had forgotten. My power was utterly drained. All I could do was helplessly hunch my back, trying to ward off its attack. It is widely known that even the most venomous serpent quails before the hunter of the skies. The ancient, primal fear of my kind seized me, a terror etched deep into my very bones. The hawk’s talons tore into my back, leaving several bleeding gashes, before Lady Blackwood’s furious shouts brought the guards, who finally bludgeoned it to death. I lay on the ground, motionless, only vaguely aware of a soft thud. I heard the respected Lady Blackwood fall to her knees before me. “Dorian,” she wept, her voice trembling, “I truly never imagined that wicked girl, Lydia, could do something so monstrous. You are House Blackwood’s Guardian Spirit. I will find another place, a sacred sanctuary, where you can safely recuperate your power. I beg you, for the sake of my mother’s act of salvation, forgive Lydia this once, and continue to protect House Blackwood.” I didn’t know how to respond. A century ago, Lady Blackwood’s mother had found me in the wilderness, near death, almost carried off by a ravenous eagle. She had brought me back to her home, painstakingly bandaging my wounds. In gratitude, after achieving my ascension and becoming a Guardian Spirit, I sought her out and vowed to protect House Blackwood for generations. Later, to save Lydia, I had broken ancient tenets, forcibly manifesting a human form, yet could only preserve my vast arcane power within the familiar. But now… the viper’s physical form had been destroyed by Lydia’s own hands. My power was utterly drained, and I had completely lost the ability to protect House Blackwood. I looked at Lady Blackwood, still kneeling before me, and a resolute purpose hardened in my eyes. “I promised your mother to protect the Blackwood lineage for generations. But now, my power is gone. I have lost the ability to be a Guardian Spirit. Please, in consideration of the countless times I have averted calamity for House Blackwood, and for the sacrifice I made to save Lydia’s life, consider my debt to your mother fully repaid. Let me go.” Clutching the jar, I limped back to the estate. Before I even entered the grand hall, the sound of intimate whispers, of a man and a woman, drifted through the closed doors. “They say his familiar granted him… certain favors, didn’t it?” I heard Marcus’s crude voice, thick with triumph. “Made you unable to leave his bed, perhaps? But now its heart is gone, consumed. How about we see if my abilities have changed, shall we?” Lydia’s voice, husky with pleasure, replied, “He wasn’t a true familiar, Marcus. And besides, you know better than anyone… only you can satisfy me.” I flung the doors open. Lydia seemed to ignore me, continuing to passionately embrace Marcus, who sat casually on the sofa. It was Marcus, however, who watched in horror as my dark hair suddenly turned white. He recoiled from Lydia, clutching his chest, coughing uncontrollably. He choked on his words, gasping, his voice a frantic whisper as he pointed, “Monster! You’re a monster!” Each word seemed to seize his lungs, leaving him gasping for air. Lydia’s brow furrowed. She gently patted Marcus’s back, then suddenly lunged at me, raising her hand and slapping my face. “What new trick are you using to turn your hair white? Are you deliberately trying to make Marcus choke to death?” Her high heel ground mercilessly into my foot. From the sofa, Marcus gave me a smug, triumphant look, then deliberately coughed a few more times, clutching his chest. He suddenly raised his hand, pointing at the jar I held. “Lydia, Dorian probably didn’t mean it. But if his pet snake’s heart was so effective for a cough, then a viper stew must surely help too.” Both their gazes fell, as one, upon the jar. I clutched it tighter. “Lydia Blackwood,” I rasped, my voice barely a whisper, “you know I shared a bond with the viper. Do you know that if it were made into a stew, I would also…” The unspoken words hung in the air: suffer the agony of being scalded alive. But she didn’t even have the patience to listen. She slapped the jar from my grasp. The butler, at her command, whisked the remnants of my familiar away to the kitchen to be made into a stew. Soon, a searing heat consumed me, a scorching inferno that made me dig my nails into my thighs, desperate to fight the agony. Even plunging myself into a tub of cold water offered no relief. Lydia suddenly stormed in, grabbing my stark white hair, demanding to know if I had deliberately dyed it white to run to Lady Blackwood and complain about her. “You always use these dark arts to deceive Grandmother! You even claimed you sacrificed your own power to save my life before! If Marcus hadn’t told me that he personally went abroad to buy medicine for me, sneaking it to me when you weren’t looking, my family would have just let you keep me locked in my room, letting me die without a single dose of medicine!” Lydia dragged me from the cold water, watching me curl into a ball, kneeling on the floor, trembling from the agonizing heat. She loomed over me, her gaze imperious. “You should know, House Blackwood has a Guardian Spirit that ensures the husband of every eldest Blackwood daughter lives a long life. If I hadn’t believed your words back then, mistakenly thinking it was you who saved me, I never would have married you! This destined long life should have been Marcus’s! You must give him your place!” I stubbornly met her gaze, then closed my eyes and let out a humorless laugh. He, who had personally destroyed House Blackwood’s very destiny, thought he would live a long life? “He wants to replace me as your husband, and live to a hundred? He’s dreaming!” A few hours later, the viper stew was served. I remained submerged in the cold water, biting down on a chopstick so hard that my jaw ached, my hands clenching the porcelain edge of the tub until fragments dug deep into my palms. The sensation of being torn and gnawed spread from my legs to the crown of my head. The last wisp of ethereal mist, my remaining essence, rose from my body. “Dorian, your dramatics are truly pathetic,” Lydia scoffed, her voice echoing into the bathroom. “You stole Marcus’s place, his rightful claim to a long and prosperous life. All I took was your wretched pet snake. Do you really need to act as if you’re dying? It only makes me sick!” With that, Lydia and Marcus continued to share the bowl of viper stew. I watched the ominous, swirling shadows coalesce above their heads, then slowly closed my eyes. The Blackwood lineage was always cursed, plagued by misfortune. Only I, by sacrificing my arcane power, had ever shielded them from calamity. Now that the last shred of my essence was gone, House Blackwood’s fortune would slowly begin to unravel. House Blackwood’s ancestors, simple fishermen, had built their fortune on a legacy of spilled blood and suffering. I, driven by gratitude, had painstakingly maintained a small sanctuary for their lineage. Over a decade ago, Lady Blackwood had knelt before the Ancestral Shrine, before the idol of the Guardian Spirit, begging me to reveal myself and save young Lydia, who was trapped in a deathly slumber. Lydia was destined for an early demise in childhood. It was I who, to repay her grandmother’s kindness, poured my very essence, my entire cultivated power, into her, drop by agonizing drop, prolonging her life. Year after year, my power had already been significantly depleted. And to save her, I had broken ancient tenets, forcibly manifesting a human form, enduring three days and three nights of divine lightning. I had almost perished. When Lydia awoke, she saw me sitting cross-legged by her bed, a viper coiled around my wrist. She didn’t seem afraid; instead, she gently stroked the viper’s head. “Dorian, thank you for saving me. I will beg Grandmother to agree to my marriage to you!” Lydia claimed she didn’t care about my true nature. She pleaded desperately with Lady Blackwood, enduring a brutal family lashing that left her unable to stand. Yet she stubbornly held her back straight, determined to become my wife. It was the first time in ten thousand years that I felt my heart pound so furiously it threatened to leap from my throat. After our marriage, Lydia learned how vital the viper was to me. She cherished it, cradling it in her hands, even personally preparing its food. But everything changed a few months later, with Marcus’s arrival. Lydia began to doubt that I had saved her with my power. She found a bottle of medicine for neurological disorders under her bed and smashed it before me. “I actually believed your monstrous tales! So it was all a cunning scheme for you to insinuate yourself into House Blackwood! I recovered because of Marcus’s medicine, didn’t I?!” She brutally ripped the viper from my wrist, throwing it to the ground and stomping on it. I choked, uncontrollably spitting up blood. But all I could do was watch as she seized the viper by its life-force and held it out the window, threatening to drop it. “Without your viper, let’s see how you’ll continue to play your charades for Grandmother!” The viper was thrown from the window. Consequently, I suffered fractured legs and was confined to bed for six months.
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