I closed my eyes, inhaling the familiar scent of my cologne, a carefully chosen mask.
When I opened them and looked in the mirror, the handsome facade I presented to the world shattered. The reflection staring back wasn't the man others saw, but the true creature beneath.
A dark, almost shadowy figure with gleaming red eyes met my gaze—a truth only revealed by this reflection. In the selfies and photos I took, the ones the world saw, whether vampire or mortal, I appeared as a handsome man in his twenties. But in this mirror, the truth was undeniable.
I am a beast.
Today is my first day at the university as Zephyr Ramirez, a fourth-year transfer student majoring in History. The Sanctuary always ensures I enroll in history-related programs, and frankly, I knew more about the world's history than most professors.
Yes, I was confident. I had to be.
I rifled through my closet, selecting a long-sleeved shirt to layer over my fitted black tank top. Grey trousers and brown leather loafers completed the ensemble. Every detail was carefully considered, a calculated presentation of myself to the world.
A navy polo is the final touch. Once I put it on, I quickly grab my phone and point the camera at the mirror. A mirror selfie is my only option since my reflection always shows something... different.
Click!
I study the image on the phone and see my 'human' look, as they call it.
I smirk, realizing that I'm undeniably hot.
My phone buzzes, a notification popping up with a name I recognize—Vinci Carlos. An Emberkin, a fellow fourth-year, and he will be my classmate.
From: Vinci Carlos
Message: Hello, I'll wait for you at the University's entrance gate. We can go in together, would that be okay?
I smiled, tapping out a quick reply.
To: Vinci Carlos
Message: Sure Vinci. Thanks. See you.
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I stopped in front of the large gate, the archway proclaiming "Elysium University" in bold lettering.
My left hand grips the strap of my brown messenger bag; my other hand is idly tucked into my pocket.
I scan the area, searching for Vinci, and finally spot him smiling and walking towards me.
"Zephyr!" he calls, waving.
When he reaches me, he extends his hand, which I readily accept.
"Our building is the Department of Humanities. Let's go? We still have 20 minutes..."
I smile and nod, taking in his appearance. He is definitely a Bloodborn Emberkin; his features are strikingly handsome. He looks to be in his early twenties, like me. I can't help but wonder about his true age.
After all, I was born in 1604—422 years old—and stuck with this youthful facade.
We enter the university together, and unlike the previous schools I've attended, this university feels different; it has a vibrant energy.
It's as if every rustle of the wind carries the laughter and chatter of the students; their sounds aren't irritating, but a joyful symphony that seems to say, "Life is good, most days."
The university nestles in a tranquil setting, surrounded by tall trees and steep mountains. The buildings are simple, almost understated, as if the beauty of nature is prioritized over modern architecture. The road stretches straight ahead from the gate, leading to the nearby town.
Vinci turns to me, a friendly smile on his face. "So, what's your ethnicity?"
I consider this for a moment. The Emberkin here in the Philippines seem perpetually cheerful, much like Thomas. They possess a carefree air I find intriguing.
"I'm Spanish, actually," I begin, then pause, a thought occurring to me. "I was born there..." I trail off, letting the unspoken part hang in the air.
He waits, his gaze expectant. I force a smile.
"I was born there, and... turned into a vampire there," I finish, the words feeling strange even to my own ears.
He nods, seemingly unconcerned. "Makes sense," he says.
"I spent several decades here in the Philippines before, so I'm quite fluent."
"Cool," he says. "What about you? Where are you from?" I ask, returning the question.
"Me? I grew up here in the Philippines," he replies. "And yeah... you know... the whole vampire thing..." He shrugs, a hint of amusement in his eyes. Then, a mischievous glint appears. "Would it surprise you if I told you Jose Rizal and I share the same birthday?"
My eyebrows shoot up. "You mean... born on the same day?" I clarify, needing to be sure. He nods.
My jaw drops. "Seriously?" I exclaim, completely taken aback.
I leaned in close, whispering in his ear, "How old are you, then?"
He leaned in, cupping a hand over his mouth to muffle his response. "I'm 162 years old," he whispered back.
"And you?" he asked, turning the question back to me.
I cleared my throat, stopping mid-stride. He stopped too. Leaning in again, I whispered, "I'm 422 years old."
He stared at me, disbelief etched on his face. "Damn, you're old," he said, his voice a mix of awe and amusement.
We continued walking until we reached a building with a large sign that read "DEPARTMENT OF ARTS AND HUMANITIES." The building was a time capsule, its aged facade possessing a vintage charm I found incredibly appealing.
Vinci noticed me pausing. "Are you ready?" he asked.
I smiled. "Well, I don't really have a choice, do I?"
As we approached the entrance, a wave of students flooded the hallway. My attention was caught by a group of guys struggling to move large panels out of the building.
"Vinci, what's going on?" I asked.
He looked over at the students, their collaborative effort clear as they heaved and pushed the heavy panels. "Maybe the art majors," he said. "They had a stage play last academic year, and those panels were probably stored in the gym. Now they're finally moving them out."
"Or maybe they're preparing for the Club Exhibit," he added, "especially those setting up booths in the gym."
I watched the students, captivated by their collaborative effort. Then, suddenly, a jolt. Someone bumped into me from behind.
I turned to see a shorter guy staring at my chest; he visibly recoiled, his expression showing it was an accident.
He didn't apologize.
I glanced at his face and recognized him instantly. He was the guy from Starbucks, the one who had made such a strong impression, despite the brief encounter. What was it about him that lingered so vividly in my mind?