C H A P T E R O N E
R I T U A L
Tsssssk!
The sound of the matchstick striking the box reverberated through the chamber as a flame spluttered to life. The candle, which was set upon an antique candelabra emitted a soft ochre glow to illuminate the interior of the large, round chamber. It was a family room -a secret- countless floors underground, whose access was granted only via a single winding staircase. Stepping inside this hidden room would almost give the illusion of time travel. Looking up, the visual sense would be presented with a wide arching ceiling, covered from corner to corner with intricately detailed paintings of an Italian renaissance style, depicting the realm of the dead. Underland. Supporting it were wide, stone columns, as if imported directly from the Ancient Greek pantheons, while half the marble floor had been imprinted with symbols and was spotless, polished to show a flawless reflection.
At the origin of the floor sat an elegant table of obsidian and gold. It was upon this table that tonight's ritual would be performed. Upon the table face, symbols were inscribed along the border in a ring and at its centre sat the hollow skull, filled to the brim with a thick red liquid.
Slowly, and as if in agony, the door creaked open. A hooded head looked in, then heavy, polished boots carried a young man of tall stature across the room to the centre. The single candle flame danced as the man whipped off his black and red cloak, revealing a toned upper body, and strode towards the table to set down a beautifully inscribed casket. The candlelight glinted off his dark eyes as he stared at the skull; taking a deep breath, the man reached out a large hand whose palm had been tattooed with the roman numeral L XVII, pulled out a pocket knife and slit his hand.
Drip....drip...drip....
He lifted the bone to his lips and drained the liquid in a few gulps, he felt his tongue tingling from the taste of the blood kissed wine. Replacing the now empty skull in its initial position, the man proceeded to delicately open the lid of the casket, and as he did, a thick fog began to seep out. The mist began to rise and form symbols -each unique- then sink to imprint on the marble floor. This process took over eight hours, but he was a man of care and did not overlook a crucial task such as this one. It was his role to make sure the dead were properly departed, and the sealing of their soul was the final farewell of these individuals. This was the power of the Huang family.
When the final wisps of mist had formed their icon and imprinted on the chamber floor, the casket closed with a sharp click. Throwing on his robe, the man retrieved the casket and exited the room - the semiannual ritual was now complete.
****
-knock knock knock-
The heavy mahogany door silently swung open as a maid quietly entered the room. Stepping silently, she drew back the heavy drapes to let in a steady stream of morning sunlight.
"Young Master, it is time to wake. Please take your time, breakfast will be ready momentarily"
The youngest son of the Huang family's eyes flickered open. With an irritated groan, Huang Zi Tao acknowledged the wake up call , and lifted his hand in a sad attempt to block out the sunlight. L XVIII, read the tattoo on the back of his hand. As the maid exited his room and shut the door with a sharp click, Tao sighed in exasperation, before forcing himself out of the comfort of his warm bed and began to dress himself. Having a family background such as his own meant that immaculate presentation of oneself everyday was a necessary obligation.
Still half asleep, he slipped into a white button up shirt, before moving on to digging out a pair of black tailored trousers. He then dug out a pinstripe waistcoat and elegant overcoat which accentuated his broad shoulders and stepped into a pair of polished, thick heeled brogues. Positioning himself in front of the floor length mirror, Tao picked out a comb and brushed his dark red hair forward to cover his forehead. Simply speaking, Tao was a beauty. His skin was of a milky white, red hair topped a face containing perfect features; high cheekbones, a gracefully arched nose, dark smoky eyes and rosy lips. Not to mention the fact that the combat training from a young age sculpted his body to perfection and that he stood at a proud height, towering over his brother and father.
Smirking, and satisfied with his presentation, he retreated from the mirror. Radiating confidence and ready to face whatever the new day held in store for him, Tao swung open the heavy mahogany door and strode out of his room.
A/N: Ok the first chapter is finally up, yay ! Haha.
This is my first ever attempt at writing a fic, so I hope that you guys will be patient with me ^^
Enjoy ~
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