The first days were a haze for Elysia. Her senses felt like a swarm of bees, each new sound, scent, and sight too sharp, too vivid, as though the world had been painted anew in brighter colors and darker shadows. The wind seemed alive, whispering secrets she could almost understand, and the distant clinking of a blacksmith's hammer felt as close as her own heartbeat.
But there was one sensation that was far from enchanting—the hunger.
The thirst clawed at her, gnawing at her insides with an intensity that left her trembling and frightened. Adric watched her, his gaze sympathetic but firm. "Elysia," he said gently, guiding her to a quiet corner of the woods, away from prying eyes, "you must learn to control it. The thirst is a fire that will consume you if you let it."
She clenched her hands, digging her nails into her palms. "I… I don't want to hurt anyone," she whispered, a small tremor in her voice.
Adric crouched beside her, his expression solemn. "This life requires difficult choices. The hunger will never go away, Elysia. It will be a part of you. But we can find ways to live with it." He reached into his cloak and produced a small flask. "Drink."
She hesitated, but the smell of blood filled her senses, and her resolve crumbled. She drank, the warm liquid filling her with an odd mix of relief and shame. When she pulled back, her eyes wide with newfound clarity, Adric offered a small, understanding nod.
"It will get easier," he assured her. "And you will learn to control it. For now, you must learn to be cautious. To stay unnoticed, we must never draw attention to ourselves. Especially you, Elysia, with your… gift."
"Daywalker," she murmured, echoing the name he'd given her the night before. The fact that the sun did not burn her still felt like a mystery wrapped in wonder.
Adric looked around, as if ensuring they were truly alone. "This ability will help you, but it will also mark you. Few vampires possess it, and those who do must guard it fiercely. There are others, those who would see you as a threat or a curiosity—a thing to be used." His eyes darkened. "That is why you must keep it hidden. From everyone."
Elysia nodded solemnly, clutching the flask tightly. "So what do I do now?"
Adric gave her a rare smile, a flicker of warmth amidst his usual stoicism. "Now, you learn. The world has changed, and you will learn to change with it. We cannot remain in one place for too long. Suspicion grows as people notice you are… different. I will teach you how to blend in, how to navigate this world without raising questions."
Over the next few weeks, he taught her how to control her thirst, how to master her heightened senses, and how to walk through villages and towns as if she belonged, despite her immortality. She learned quickly, like a flame absorbing fuel, her youth providing a resilience he had not anticipated.
And as the years passed, they moved from place to place, from plague-ravaged towns to villages untouched by disease. Adric introduced her to others like them, creatures of the night who whispered secrets and shared stories of the old world. But none held the light in their eyes as Elysia did; none could stand beneath the sun.
As they walked through a marketplace one day, Elysia glanced up at Adric. "Will I always be a child?"
He paused, considering his answer carefully. "Yes and no. Your body will stay young, but your mind will grow older with each passing year. And that," he added with a sad smile, "will be its own burden."
That night, under the stars, Elysia realized that her life would be a constant dance between worlds—between innocence and immortality, hunger and humanity. And though she still struggled with the enormity of it, she found a small comfort in knowing she wasn't alone.