The grand hall of the vampire coven was tense, its shadows cast long by the flickering torchlight that lined the stone walls. Austin stood at the center, his crimson cloak draped over his shoulders, commanding the attention of the assembled vampires. The room hummed with the low murmurs of anticipation, but all fell silent as the heavy oak doors creaked open.
Niklaus stepped into the room, his face drawn and weary. He carried a leather sack slung over one shoulder, but his presence brought no relief to the tension hanging in the air. As he approached, Austin's sharp eyes locked onto him.
"Niklaus," Austin began, his voice a mixture of relief and suspicion. He stepped forward, pulling his old friend into a tight embrace. For a fleeting moment, the weight of their shared burdens seemed to lift. Austin's hand moved to Niklaus's hair, brushing it back with an almost brotherly tenderness. But as he pulled away, his gaze searched for something—or someone.
