Soleil Noir’s Spectacular Stars

“I don’t want to die…”

“I’m so hungry…”

“Please help me…”

Those were the three most common phrases Solomon heard in his youth. He even cried those words himself during his early years at the previous king’s orphanage.

In the later years when he survived and grew cold and merciless, however, he was the one responsible for causing the children to cry. No one ever lived to see his brutal side of him besides the other fellow survivors, but even they turned out to be as cruel as him or worse.

The adults managing the orphanage gave nothing but water and bread. But to vampires like him, those useless grains meant absolutely nothing. In his early days, he hunted rats and stole cattle for their blood, but as he grew older, animal blood no longer became sufficient. When he survived to be a senior of the orphanage, he resorted to feasting on the abusive adults and, regrettably, the already malnourished humans who only ate such stale bread.

Horace already asked him about his feelings once, but that was during the time of today. Right now, he could never feel any more remorse than ever.

But during all of that nightmare? During the days he lived like a savage? He didn’t feel a thing. Could it be because he was too confused? That no one taught him about morals? That he was simply mimicking the other children? Or was it his heart forcing him to abandon his emotions for the sake of his own survival?

One by one, his unforgivable deeds stacked up over the years until they toppled over at his breaking point—that was, when he had viciously beaten up a fellow senior to death fighting over food.

That feral boy wasn’t like the present-day Solomon at all. In fact, that boy was associated with a different name.

Solomon used to have a different name while he was in that orphanage, a name he now greatly despised and wished to forget. Hair as black as night, yet with eyes shining like the sun… His original birth name was meant to describe his striking appearance, named by a mother he no longer remembered.

After building up an atrocious reputation and surviving out of that orphanage only to get into a bigger cage that was the former king’s army, his birth name only carried the records of his bloodshed. He didn’t realize it until he saw a monster through a cracked mirror. At that point, something inside him shattered, and the years of his transgressions crashed into him like a deadly wave.

He almost couldn’t handle the grief, the guilt, the regret… Was his life going to stay like this forever? If that was true, then he’d rather be killed than continue it.

That was, until a random stranger suddenly appeared to him out of nowhere. With a bizarre demeanor, he dared to strike up a chat with him during the darkest point of his life.

The ‘Carmin’ he knew was perhaps the most peculiar man he’d met, but there was a certain charm and passion in his voice that he just couldn’t ignore. Not only did he save his life, but he also gave him a new name not too different from his original birth name.

Solomon was the name he suggested. Carmin "II" couldn’t quite remember where he originally heard it from, but he simply came up with it for him because he thought it was funny to make a pun of how he’d ‘solo’ everything.

That moment was perhaps the first time Solomon ever broke into a fit of laughter in his life. To think he’d ever smile in his life—and over a ridiculous joke nonetheless. This fellow wasn’t as hostile as the others he’d cross paths with at all, but he couldn’t deny that he also had a few screws loose as he did.

When his new friend finally revealed his intentions to overtake the throne, Solomon briefly hesitated. To rebel meant certain death, yet if the king was replaced, then he could claim “Solomon Vamier” as his new name, achieve freedom, and turn a new leaf with his life.

He originally planned to save as many lives as he had killed as a doctor, an idea originally implanted by Carmin "II," while also researching the cure for the curse all vampires bear.

A vampire like him could only experience so many emotions in his life. He never thought he could actually feel what it’d be like to have a family. Hell, it terrified him—deathly terrified of how his children would turn out. He was afraid that they could become monsters like him. He was too afraid of how his spouse and children would view him if they had learned the truth.

Words could never describe the hundreds of emotions he went through during that grand journey. From meeting Maribel to finally reconciling with his family after The Star-Crushing Tragedy, it was a miracle how his children grew up to be so stunning, so kind-hearted, and so incredibly brave adults.

Setting aside all the disputes he had with him, it was ultimately thanks to Carmin "II" for granting him this wonderful experience. To him, he would give up his life if the time arrived.

…Thus, here he was, having all these thoughts and memories flash before his eyes as he lay sprawled on the ground, bleeding to death, as the train’s whistles blared across the night sky.

When did it happen again? One moment, he wrestled against its snout, and the next, he somehow ended up getting blasted away by a powerful force.

“Get the bloody hell up, Solomon!” Horace shouted from above, spearing the train’s head away. “You can’t possibly die so pathetically!”

Solomon twitched his arms and gritted his teeth, clutching the heavy gash on his waist. He groaned and staggered himself up, sweat mixing with his blood. He grimaced and leaned against a tree, still heavily coughing.

Horace cursed under his breath and faced the train alone. He wrapped his spear with brilliant orange flames and threw flaming needles at its eyes. The train shrieked and violently shook its head around, slamming Horace away in the process with great force.

Horace crashed into the trees with a heavy thud, conveniently landing not too far from Solomon. The doctor briefly staggered toward him before his knees gave in to the pain and collapsed. Nonetheless, Solomon continued to crawl toward him, and the two wrapped their shoulders together as they forced themselves back up.

While they briefly caught their breaths, the train began to swing its remaining cars toward them. The two raised their forearms and blocked it head-on, both shouting war cries as they submitted into a contest of strength between them and a massive body.

Their soles slid through the dirt as the serpent continued to push ever so slightly at the twitch of their arms. Solomon coughed out blood, but he continued to push, sparking a massive, fiery laser at his palms. Horace did the same, brandishing his spear wrapped in flicking flames. With one last cry, the two combined them into one, massive beam of light and fired it away, halving the train and sending its lower end flying over the trees.

The serpent shrieked in pain and tumbled around.

Utterly exhausted, the men could only grit their teeth and shut their eyes, bracing for impact and perhaps their deaths at any moment. But, at the same time...

...Something twinkled above the serpent’s head. 

Something fast soared toward the battlefield, glowing as magnificently as a star. It flew and left a trail of sparks while also… intensely screaming?

Solomon and Horace opened their eyes, gaping at the “shooting stars” fast approaching.

There they were, the insane bunch of youngsters screaming their lungs out as they all rode a thick tree log, followed by more logs enshrouded in golden-white and scarlet-black flames. Thick strands of Crimoire were attached to each flaming log, all linking to the group at the front.

“Oh, god,” Theodore croaked, cupping his mouth. “I forgot I have motion sickness…”

“I freaking told you this is a terrible idea!” Cherry shrieked, clutching onto her brother sitting in front of her.

“You better not throw up on us, or I swear to god I’ll kill you!” shouted Charlie.

Penelope continued to babble incoherently as she buried her face on Eloi’s back, whose screams were also echoing through the sky.

With Clover’s help, the group’s ride paused midair right above the serpent's head while the other logs began to circle them like a floating carousel. “Dorothy! It’s time!” he shouted. “Hurry up before I get tired!”

Dorothy stood up from her seat, sharply inhaled, and grabbed one of the Crimoire ropes holding a flaming log. She spun it around, faster and faster with each turn, until eventually, the naked eye could only see a golden white ring above the group.

Dorothy hurled the log with a supersonic shockwave, crashing it right onto the train’s head. The head slammed into the ground with another pained whistle, and before it could get up, Dorothy launched another, and another, and another, the trees all shattering into wooden scraps as they pierced the serpent’s body. By the time Dorothy threw the last one left, she sat back down.

“You guys ready?” asked Clover.

“Ready!” everyone else shouted, their voices mixed between excitement and terror.

Clover raised his hand with radiating Crimoire light and clenched it tightly. He swung it down. The log angled in his direction, right at the snake’s head, and dived toward it. Everyone screamed another round, mostly out of fear, until by the time they almost reached the ground, they all jumped off right before their ride crashed into the snake.

One by one, they plunged their weapons down a coupler, splitting the train’s remaining cars and sending each one tumbling away. Those with ranged weapons surrounded themselves with bullets or arrows, piercing them through its gears like raindrops to a puddle.

Dorothy dived last with one swift, heavy swing of her flaming halberd, slicing the serpent’s head and the ground beneath it. An unusual, glass-shattering noise also cracked through the air. Dorothy flinched and raised her halberd out of the way, staring at a glowing red crest swelling out of its skin.

“What is that?” she asked, pointing at it.

Eloi grimaced and clutched his head. “Oow! What the hell! My head’s hurting all of a sudden!” 

Penelope hastily held onto Eloi’s shoulder while he stumbled around. With a shaky arm, he pointed at the crest. “That thing… that thing’s overwhelming with Crimoire!” he hissed.

Penelope gaped her eyes at it next. “Then... that must be its power source!”

The head began to twitch.

Dorothy immediately raised her halberd and smashed it with all her might, crushing the rest of the serpent’s head, cratering the ground again, and delivering a small earthquake in the process. In fact, she swung it so hard she destroyed her weapon along with it, shattering the halberd’s blade into a pile of metal scrap.

“Ah, oops,” said Dorothy, scratching her head.

The youths gripped their weapons, bracing for any more sudden movements.

In the end, the scales lost their light, and that was it.

The youngsters lowered their weapons and hastily gathered around, catching their breaths and checking up on each other. Once they confirmed each other’s safety, they turned to the bystanding elders.

“T-Tadaaaa!” Theodore sang with jagged breaths and jazzy hands, hoarsely coughing. “Behold, our ‘ultimate attack!’”

Solomon and Horace dropped their jaws, still disoriented and speechless.

By the stars, they actually did it.

As their adrenaline faded, the youths wobbled in their steps, staggering and bumping against each other.

“Ohhh, my god,” Cherry croaked, clutching her chest. “We did it. We actually did it. I-I thought I died again for a second…” She coughed and collapsed on her back, almost breaking into tears. “Ah... I never thought I’d appreciate the comfort of the solid ground…”

Theodore collapsed beside her with a dry chuckle. “Wowee, that was so much fun!” he said, grinning away. “My nausea is gone. Crisis averted.”

“Wow. Glad to hear that, I guess…”

Everyone else also collapsed onto their backs and formed a circle, still catching their breaths and voicing their complaints to one another, mostly toward Theodore, as they stared at the sky. Before they knew it, they all smiled and broke into fits of laughter in the name of relief and sweet, sweet victory.

“My goodness, what chaotic children you’ve raised,” Horace muttered, shaking his head.

“You’ve raised them as well, haven't you?” Solomon remarked.

“Ugh, I thought I’d taught them better than to think like barbarians…”

“Haha, but they’ve done so well.” He grinned at the children, all worn to their bones but still had light in their eyes. “Look at them. They’re shining so brightly.”

Horace faced the youths next, gradually smiling as his eyes grew hazy. “So it seems.”

Pride sewed onto their faces for only a spare moment, but in the next, the two simultaneously collapsed, their blood mixing and staining the grass and soil.