Lilith

Thornhill, Vankar Island

Northern Region,

Kingdom of Ashtarium

October 10th, 6414

12:45 pm

The castle was burning. The huge, pentagon-shaped castle I had lived in for eight years was falling apart. There was smoke everywhere, the roaring inferno spreading like a lake that had broken through a dam. The smoke was stinging my throat, and my eyes were wet, but the discomfort didn't bother me. There was only one simple thought in my heart. One desire that I cared about more than anything. I didn't care about the fire, I didn't care for the burnt bodies that I once knew. I didn't care for anything but just the thought that she was okay. Let her be alright. Be safe. The rest of the world could burn for all I care, but not her. Not Ariella...

BOOM! An interrupting sound and a moment later, my eyes opened and I was no longer in the castle, struck with fear. I was back in the Hypertrain, in the section of the train that was categorized as first-class. I felt pressure on my right shoulder which turned out to be my best friend, Ariella Ashtarmel. She was sleeping on my shoulder, her eyes shut down with exhaustion, her warm breath calming the anxiety that I had felt from the dream I had just woken up from. I told myself that the incident had been two years ago and that right now, we were safe. As safe as anyone on the run could be. We were leaving the region of Kettlia and were currently on our way to the Northern Region. The city of Perium was no longer a haven for us. At least that was what Sanders-Ariella's Caretaker- had summarised before he decided to unpack the lives we had managed to make. I checked my uni and the time indicated that we would soon reach our destination. And sure enough, the conductor's voice came in through the speaker.

"Ladies and Gentleman, I'm pleased to inform you that we have just reached the Island of Vankar. Please gather your things and be prepared to disembark..."

"Are we there, yet," Ariella's sleepy voice muttered as she rubbed her eyes. She opened them with a gasp and looked up at me. "I hope I didn't leave any drool on you,"

"You should be more concerned about your snoring," I grinned at her.

"What! I don't snore," Ella responded with a smile. It felt good to see her smile. When they had left Kettlia, she had been silent and unresponsive. I knew why she had been that way but there was nothing I could do about it. It wasn't wise to stay in Kettlia for as long as they had, no matter how safe the place might have once been. The entire region was going through a major upheaval and it wasn't safe for them to be there while it was going through it. The train finally came to a sudden stop. Sanders who had been quietly paying attention to the outside of their compartment, suddenly got up.

"We're here," He said. I could hear movements from the outside as people were beginning to depart the train. Opening our compartment door was Hector Sandolo, Ariella's other caretaker who Sanders had tasked to guard the compartment. He gave a bow to Ariella and then he began taking the suitcases- Ariella's- while I had to get my own myself. Ariella insisted on carrying one of her backpacks, instead of leaving everything to Hector, the firm pout on her face was the only thing that dissuaded the servant from fighting her over it. When we got out of the train, I felt a slight prick at the back of my neck. Which caused me to take a glance at my surroundings. People were coming out of the train, going about their business. I reprimanded myself. Not everything was a threat to-

"Lil, are you-" Ariella began but then she was cut short by the sudden collision of someone against her. I caught her before she fell as the stranger ran off, Ariella's backpack in his hands.

"Out of the way," Two Peacekeepers zoomed past them, chasing after the culprit.

"My backpack," Ariella said. I didn't waste time, my body reacted before Sanders or Hector could say anything. Power flowed from the pit of my stomach to my knees and then to my toes. I speed past the Peacekeepers, crossing the distances between us within minutes while easily moving through the crowds of onlookers watching them do their jobs. I slammed against the thief, grabbing him by the back of his red jacket and slamming his back on the ground. I took Ella's backpack and used my feet to pin him on the ground, waiting for the peacekeepers to get here. As soon as they arrived, I took my foot off the thief. I gave them space as one of them dragged the thief up. Both the officers and the culprit were staring at me, a stupid look on their faces. There was silence around me and a glance around the tunnel station told me that the crowd was all looking at me. It took me a while before I realized why they were stunned by my actions. I began to hear whispers from the people around me. I ignored them as I paid attention to the Peacekeepers who finally reached me. They too had a look of surprise on their face. I knew the reason behind their shock as I had performed my stunt without the use of any special 

"Thanks, officers for your duty," I said as I left them to their jobs. I returned to where Ariella and the others were. But before I could give Ella her bag back, Sanders got in my face.

"What the hell were you thinking," He whispered, mindful of the people that were watching us.

"I was thinking of Ella," I said as I gave her back her bag. She whispered her gratitude to me which I accepted.

"That...That was not thinking of Ella.."

"You should relax," I said coolly. "All your attitude is going to do is bring attention to us."

"My attitude..." He stopped himself with a long sigh. "Let's move out." I couldn't help but smile at his displeasure. We hurriedly left the tunnel station and got out to the open. Vankar Island was one of the few habitable lands in the Northern region, though the Island was separated from most of the land mass of the North due to certain events that had played out in the past. The Island of Vankar was as far north as one could get in the Kingdom of Kuria, the rest of the land beyond it had yet to be settled by civilization, instead, it was inhabited by savages and barbarians that could survive in that harsh environment. From what I knew of the Island, fishing was one of its major commercial contributions to the Kingdom. I could smell the Pillar Ocean that surrounded the Island even through the Sundome that covered it. The Hypertrain tunnel was what connected the island with the rest of the Kingdom since it was in the middle of the sea. That was how far and removed Vankar Island was from the rest of the Kingdom. I wondered if it was one of the reasons why Sanders had decided to move them here. The bastard still hadn't given us the reason why their new home had to be in this region.

"So, how are we getting to Thornhill?" Ella asked, her voice light but tinged with curiosity.

Sanders didn't hesitate. "There should be a ride waiting for us outside," he said, scanning the bustling crowd. "Ah, there it is." He nodded toward a small group of individuals in suits holding signposts. One of them, a man in a crisp blazer, waved his arms above the throng, his sign emblazoned with the word Rochester. Sanders gestured for us to follow. It seemed he'd managed to arrange transportation after all.

As we approached, the driver greeted us with a polite smile, though it faltered the closer we got. He glanced over our group, his eyes lingering a second too long on Sanders and Ella. I could see the gears turning in his head as he put the pieces together.

"You must be the Rochester group," he said, though his voice carried an edge of unease. Then, almost under his breath, he muttered, "You're Vampires…"

Not me, I thought, but I held my tongue. The last thing I wanted was to complicate the situation.

"Is that a problem?" Sanders asked evenly, his tone as measured as ever.

The driver's hesitation was brief. "No… no, it's just… we don't get many Vamps in this area," he stammered, trying to sound casual but failing miserably. He turned and led us to the car, a sleek, silver vehicle that gleamed under the artificial light of the Sundome.

"Good," Sanders replied curtly, stepping forward to hold the door open for Ariella. She climbed in gracefully, but when I moved to follow, Sanders shifted, blocking my path. He leaned in close, his voice low enough that only I could hear him.

"Your abilities are the only reason you're here," he murmured. "Stay in line, and things will go smoothly. Step out of it, and—"

I didn't let him finish. Locking eyes with him, I matched his intensity, his black gaze meeting mine like a challenge. His words dripped with disdain, but I refused to be cowed. I kept my voice calm, even. "You should be careful where you put those hands."

Without waiting for a reply, I brushed past him and slid into the car. The atmosphere in the vehicle was already tense, but as the engine hummed to life and we pulled away, I allowed myself the smallest smirk.

Thornhill unfolded before me like a vision of a world I'd only half-believed could exist. I peered through the rain-specked window, the steady hum of the car's engine a soft backdrop to my thoughts. It had been two hours since we crossed into Vankar's soil, and the Island's landscape had slowly given way to a city that seemed almost unreal. Gone was the gray monotony of Perium, replaced by a skyline marked with elegant spires and glimmering bridges, all bathed in a muted glow as the night settled over us. Despite the grandeur, a faint unease still clung to me, an instinctive dread I couldn't shake.

I couldn't deny it—Thornhill was spectacular, a city renowned for its splendor. Its streets seemed to shimmer even in the rain, the intricate paving stones reflecting golden light from ornate streetlamps. Graceful towers spiraled upward, crowned with colorful banners swaying gently in the wind. Every corner of the city seemed to hold a marvel: fountains that danced with beams of colored light, vast murals depicting storied heroes, and marketplaces that bustled even under the drizzle. And yet, my instincts screamed that being here was a mistake.

I thought we should've fled far from the New World entirely, past the Salt Mountains or to the distant eastern territories. But Sanders—ever cryptic—had insisted this was the perfect place to start fresh. He offered no explanation, of course. He never did. All I knew was that Thornhill's fame as a hub of innovation, culture, and beauty also made it dangerous. But, Sanders' logic rarely aligned with mine.

The city was in full preparation mode for Remembrance Day. Every avenue and boulevard was draped in shimmering ribbons of light, their colors shifting and weaving together like waves. Elaborate displays were being constructed in the public squares—golden arches adorned with intricate carvings, stages for performers that jutted out over placid canals, and a grand clock tower that served as the centerpiece, its face glinting in the rain like a jewel. Even though the streets were quiet now, the air buzzed with the promise of a celebration soon to come.

The car veered off the main thoroughfare onto a smaller, less polished road. Here, the cobblestones gave way to patches of wild grass and scattered potholes. The jolt from a sudden bump pulled me from my thoughts. I adjusted myself and removed the earplug playing a low hum of punk music. The world came back into focus, and I turned toward Ariella, who was practically hanging out the window.

Rain splashed against her silver hair, her flushed cheeks lit by the faint glow of the city. She turned to face me, eyes alight with wonder. Her electric indigo gaze shimmered with excitement so contagious it threatened to crack my brooding mood. Thornhill had been her dream since we were kids. She had always spoken of its marvels—its soaring crystal towers, its bustling art districts, and its streets alive with music and color. Now, she was seeing it for herself.

Her earlier disappointment at leaving Perium had melted away. In its place was unrestrained curiosity, the kind of raw, innocent joy that made me feel something close to hope. I couldn't help but smile—albeit briefly—at the sight of her so happy, so alive. At least, for her, Thornhill was a dream fulfilled.

"Looks like we've reached the mansion," Ella remarked, her voice light but tinged with anticipation. I leaned over, peering out the window. Sure enough, the silhouette of a massive, imposing structure loomed before us. Any flicker of excitement I'd felt from Ella's enthusiasm quickly faded. A strange unease clung to the air, thick and inexplicable, just like when I first set foot on this land.

"What a charming view," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm. "I wonder how long it'll take before it comes crashing down on us."

"This house has stood here since before the war," Sanders cut in. "A historic site that's been preserved for generations." He sat across from us, his pale face unreadable but his tone clipped, as if delivering a lecture. Typical Sanders.

Dressed in black from head to toe, he blended into the dim interior of the car. His coat draped over him like a shroud, and his scarlet hair—a striking contrast to his alabaster complexion—looked like a smear of blood against the gloom. With his piercing black eyes, Sanders resembled something not quite alive. A walking corpse. No wonder the driver, a human, had been unnerved.

I shifted my gaze to Ella. Despite being distantly related to Sanders, she couldn't have looked more different. Her cheeks held a warm pink hue, a stark contrast to his chalky pallor. She radiated an almost contagious restlessness, her energy palpable in the confined space of the car. At first glance, Ella seemed so achingly ordinary, even fragile. But I knew better. I'd learned, through experience, that her small frame belied her capabilities. She might look petite and harmless, but if pushed, she could end a life in seconds.

The car screeched to a halt, snapping me from my thoughts. The door on Ella's side swung open, revealing Hector standing outside. He extended his hand to her without sparing a glance in my direction. As usual, he ignored me. Fine. I pushed the door open and got out on my own, stretching stiff limbs after the long ride. A gust of cool rain immediately soaked my face, and I caught my reflection in the sleek car finish: a black leather jacket over a red T-shirt emblazoned with "Adicts" in bold white letters. A streak of magenta cut through my jet-black hair, a splash of color among my dark ensemble. I was wearing my usual platform boots—studded, spiked, and heavy—and every step felt like a chore.

I tilted my head back, letting the rain wash over me, while the others seemed to have miraculously obtained umbrellas. Hector had handed them out to everyone except me. My lips twitched with the faintest trace of irritation as I grabbed my bag from the trunk. Another dark look toward Hector, who had conveniently ignored my luggage while carefully tending to Sanders' and Ella's belongings.

Before my frustration could boil over, Ella appeared at my side, slipping her arm around my shoulders. She tilted her umbrella over me, shielding me from the rain with an easy smile. My irritation softened, if only slightly. With her by my side, the mansion's ominous presence seemed just a little less suffocating.

"Now we don't want you getting sick in the rain," Ella said with a bright smile that revealed perfect white teeth. My heart skipped a beat, my pulse suddenly racing as my palms grew clammy. I struggled to steady myself, acutely aware of the warmth of her presence. Across from us, Sanders' eyebrow gave a slight twitch. He noticed the closeness but chose not to comment. Instead, he turned sharply to face the looming mansion that would be our home for the foreseeable future.

The mansion was everything Sanders had described: ancient, battered, and steeped in a weary kind of grandeur. Thick vines sprawled across its facade, creeping around shattered windows and climbing the crumbling stone walls. What might have once been a stately home was now a faded specter of its former glory. The years had taken their toll—broken glass reflected the faint glow of the streetlights, and weathered wood groaned in the rising wind. I couldn't shake the eerie sensation that had settled over me, a deepening unease that seemed to emanate from the mansion itself. My gut tightened as we drew closer, the strange feeling gnawing at the edges of my thoughts.

A figure emerged from the gloom—a stout, round-shouldered man in a worn cloak that flapped noisily in the gusts. He trudged toward us from the wrought-iron gates he must have opened, his boots crunching on the wet gravel.

"So, you're the new folks who bought the place," he called out, his voice carrying above the rain.

"Yes, I'm Edward Rochester," Sanders replied coolly. He gestured to Ella and me. "These are my nieces, Anna and Lith."

The man's gaze lingered on me. His initial surprise was fleeting, replaced by a carefully blank expression as he turned his attention back to Sanders. My shoulders stiffened, and my hand instinctively shifted toward the hidden blade strapped to my back. What was that look? Did I imagine it, or was something else at play?

"Name's Dudley. Vernon Dudley. I'm the groundskeeper for the estate," he said with a casual shrug. "Didn't believe it when Mrs. Fletcher told me it'd been sold. Thought it was supposed to be another week before you showed up."

"Well, I got tired of the mess in the South and decided to leave early," Sanders said, his tone clipped and cold.

Dudley let out a snort and spat on the ground, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. "Heard things've gotten rough down there," he remarked. He didn't have to say it outright—he was talking about Kettlia, the city we'd left behind in Perium. "Must be bad if your kind is moving out."

My hand inched closer to the knife, ready to draw it. The temptation burned through me. Sanders caught the movement and gave a subtle shake of his head. I clenched my jaw, silently seething. How much did this Dudley know? How much had he figured out?

"Not the first Southerners to come running since that new king took over," Dudley continued, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air. "You ask me, the old family might've been bloodsuckers, but at least they kept things running."

I couldn't help it; my fingers brushed the hilt of the blade. The word "bloodsuckers" hung in the air, heavy and accusing. I wanted to throw a punch—or worse—but Sanders' firm look kept me in check. Beside me, Ella showed no sign of irritation. If anything, she looked utterly indifferent.

"I suppose so," Sanders replied stiffly. "In any case, we need to get inside. The key, please."

Dudley fished the key from his pocket. Hector stepped forward to take it, brisk and silent as always. Without another word, we moved toward the mansion's entrance. I stayed close to Ella, my eyes darting once more over the imposing structure. The sense of unease hadn't diminished. If anything, it had sharpened, whispering at the edges of my mind like a half-heard warning.

As we climbed the steps, I turned back and caught Dudley watching me. His eyes were sharp, cold and calculating. For a moment, I felt as though he were sizing me up, and my hand tightened instinctively on the bag slung over my shoulder. Whatever his game was, I wasn't going to let my guard down. Not for a second.

for them.

ChatGPT said:

"Have you picked out your room yet?" Ella asked as I hauled another box of her things into the space she'd claimed. The mansion was enormous, with four sprawling stories plus an attic, each floor lined with an array of bedrooms. Out of all the options, Ella had chosen one on the second floor—a room that, while far from the lavish accommodations she'd known back home, was still the largest in the house. It came fully furnished, with a sturdy bedframe, a weathered but functional dresser, and a connected bathroom. Compared to the other rooms, it was practically the master suite.

"Yeah, I picked one above yours," I replied, carefully folding one of her dresses and tucking it into the dresser.

"You know there's a room right across from mine, don't you?" Ella teased, throwing a bundle of her clothes at me. I caught them easily and folded them without missing a beat.

"Sorry, upstairs just felt… better," I said, though even I wasn't sure why I'd chosen it.

Before she could respond, a familiar dull ache crept behind my temple, and I winced, pressing my fingers to the spot. "Still feeling off?" she asked, her tone shifting to concern.

I shook my head slightly. "It's fine. Just the same headaches I always get. They've been worse since we got here, though." The moment we'd entered the mansion, that strange vibe I'd been feeling turned into something more physical—a constant, low-grade headache that hadn't let up. I'd had headaches like this before, off and on, but nothing quite this persistent.

"When was the last time you felt like this?" Ella pressed.

"Back in Yorkside," I muttered, knowing she'd understand the reference. Her expression turned pensive, and I could tell she was replaying everything that had happened since then. I caught brief glimpses of her memories—fragments of our escape, the struggles that led us to this town—before she blinked and returned to the present. I quickly looked away, not wanting her to notice. I hated intruding on her thoughts, even unintentionally. With others, it took effort and physical contact to sense their emotions or catch a flash of memory. With Ella, it was effortless. Thankfully, now that she'd awakened as a Vampire, she could block me out when she wanted to.

"I still don't like you being up there," she admitted. "I wish you were closer."

"It doesn't matter where I am," I said, reaching for her hand and giving it a gentle squeeze. "I'll always look out for you." I meant it—no matter where they put me in this old, eerie house, Ella's safety was my priority.

The door creaked open, and Hector stepped inside. He inclined his head in a small bow. "Princess—"

"Seriously, Hector, you don't have to call me that," Ella interrupted. "I'm not a princess anymore."

"I'd think by now you'd get the hint," I muttered.

"Lily," Ella scolded, but I just shrugged. "It's not like it's the first time you've told him to drop it."

Hector remained as impassive as ever. "Princess Ariella will always be a princess to me," he said evenly, completely ignoring me. The vein at my temple throbbed, but I held my tongue. No sense in wasting energy arguing with him.

"I'm here, Princess, because I'm heading to the Synthbank," he continued. "Is there a particular brand of Synthblood you prefer?"

"This town has a Synthbank?" I asked, surprised.

"Yes," Hector answered curtly, with a scowl.

"That's good," Ella said. "I was wondering how Sanders and I were going to get our blood." As a newly awakened Vampire—a Manaborn—Ella needed to feed regularly. Her body required a constant supply of the vital life force that coursed through all living things, which Vampires drew from blood. Thankfully, they no longer had to rely on humans to sustain themselves. Synthblood was a marvel of modern science, a perfect imitation of natural blood, though Ella had once confessed that its taste left much to be desired.

"I'll take O positive," she said. "I like the tangy flavor."

"It will be done, Princess." Hector bowed again and left, leaving a faint tension in the air behind him.

"I hope he remembers to buy real food too," I said, yawning as the dull headache intensified. My muscles felt heavy, fatigue settling in deeper than before. I rubbed my temple, trying to push back the ache.

"Are you okay?" Ella asked. "You look worn out."

I offered her a weak smile and set the last of her clothes in the dresser. "I'm fine. Just tired from the trip."

"You should rest," she said softly. "You've been looking out for me all day."

It was true—our journey from Kettlia to the Northern Isle had been grueling, more so than the initial escape from the Royal region two years ago. Sanders had kept us in the dark about our destination until the last moment, forcing us to take back routes and less-than-legal channels to reach the northernmost edge of the kingdom. As much as I despised Sanders' decision to stay within the kingdom's borders rather than flee to the Old World, I couldn't come up with a better plan. His insistence that we'd be safe here didn't sit well with me. I had my doubts, and my instincts screamed otherwise. But right now, I couldn't do much about it. All I could do was keep my promise to myself: no matter what happened, I'd protect Ella. And maybe—just maybe—this cursed town would grant us the cover we needed.

_

St. Astarth Orphanage of Lost Children

Yorkside Region

July 24th, 6406

6:35 pm

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" The kids' chants rose in a bloodthirsty crescendo, their voices echoing off the worn walls of the orphanage courtyard. Lily's fist struck Adrian square in the face, sending a spatter of blood into the humid air. The sharp, metallic tang mingled with the stench of sweat and the faint, acrid odor of urine that clung to the cracked paving stones beneath their feet. The gathered children, half-starved for both food and entertainment, watched with gleeful hunger. Their cheering formed a wild rhythm, dragging them out of the bleak reality they'd known since birth. For now, they were somewhere else—somewhere raw and primal.

Adrenaline surged through Lily's veins, a roaring tide that made her heart race. But it wasn't just adrenaline. Something deeper, more feral, surged alongside it. Her knuckles met Adrian's skin again and again, each impact sending shockwaves through her arm and into her core. A voice buried deep within her told her to stop—warned her she was pushing too far—but that voice was drowned out by a raw, driving force she couldn't fully understand. Her limbs moved as if on instinct, each blow harder than the last, each moment inching closer to an irreversible mistake.

A shadow fell over her. Before she could register what was happening, strong hands yanked her backward, breaking her trance. The chants abruptly ceased, replaced by a low groan of disappointment from the crowd as the spell of violence broke. Lily struggled against the restraint, but whoever had hold of her was far too strong. She looked up, meeting the sharp, disapproving gaze of Sister Josephine.

Around them, the circle of children scattered. Some ran back to their rickety tables, while others slunk off into the shadows. Adrian lay crumpled on the ground, his face a bloody mess, before a pair of caretakers came to drag him away. The tall figure holding Lily turned her around, his pale face and flaming red hair striking in the evening's dim light.

"Let go of me, you filthy bloodsucker!" she hissed through clenched teeth.

The man's lips curled into a cold, mirthless smile. "My pleasure." In one swift motion, he slammed her against a nearby table. Pain exploded in her skull, white-hot and searing, snuffing out the furious energy that had driven her just moments before. Her vision blurred, and she gasped for breath as the creature's iron-like hands closed around her throat. His grip was suffocating, his crimson eyes gleaming with a predatory light.

Sister Josephine froze. The stern, matronly mask she normally wore had been replaced by an expression of sheer terror. She coughed awkwardly, summoning the courage to speak. "Master Sanders, please forgive her rudeness—"

"Fuck it," Lily croaked, her voice rasping against the crushing hold on her windpipe. Her eyes burned with defiance as she glared at the creature, taking in his sharp fangs and unnaturally pale skin. "I don't need his fucking forgiveness, you leech."

Sanders' smile widened—a slow, deliberate curve that only made the knot in Lily's stomach tighten. "Oh, so it's true," he mused, his voice honey-sweet and sickening. "You're the one from that place, aren't you? The one who killed ten of my men before they managed to subdue you."

He loosened his grip and stepped back, his smile fading into something more neutral. He turned his attention to Sister Josephine. "I thought she was supposed to be properly reformed by now," he said coldly.

Sister Josephine's hands trembled as she bowed her head. "We have been working diligently to guide Miss Kain toward a more refined demeanor," she said carefully. "It is our full intention, with the blessing of the Great Mother, to purge her of her… impure behaviors."

Sanders sneered at her, his expression twisting with disdain. He turned back to Lily, his gaze flat and calculating. "See to it that she improves. I'll be back in a month's time to collect her."

With that, he turned on his heel and marched off, his long coat trailing behind him. Lily watched him go, the heat of her fury simmering just beneath the surface. She hated the way he looked at her—like a thing to be managed, like she was some kind of pest that he only barely tolerated. She hated everything about him. But most of all, she hated the helplessness that still lingered in her chest, long after his iron grip had left her throat.