Lilith
Thornhill, Vankar Island
Northern Region,
Kingdom of Ashtarium
October 10th, 6414
7:45 pm
Hordes of Gale Foxes darted through the shadowed underbrush of Enoch Forest, their sleek bodies weaving between trees with an unsettling precision. They moved in formation—not wild, but coordinated, like a battalion of trained hunters closing in on prey. And they were.
From my perch high in the canopy, I watched the lead fox stalk forward with unerring intent, its nose twitching as it traced our scent across the forest floor. My gaze shifted toward the thicket where Ariella Ashtarmel—my charge and responsibility—lay hidden beneath layers of foliage and illusion.
This was supposed to be a simple training expedition. A controlled hunt for magic cores while Ella honed her instincts and tested her growth. But things had unraveled the moment we crossed into the wrong stretch of forest. I hadn't wanted to come this deep—not today—but Ella was insistent. She spoke of becoming a Dungeon Raider, one of those reckless explorers who dive into the arcane machinery of lost worlds to earn renown and fortune. But I knew Ella's reasons ran deeper than glory.
A sudden shift in the wind prickled my skin. The lead Gale Fox froze, then slowly raised its snout. Its eyes—glinting with instinct and purpose—locked onto mine.
Damn it.
That made the third time it had tracked me directly. I clenched my jaw, irritation bubbling beneath my calm exterior. Since stepping foot into their territory—by accident, mind you—the pack had been relentless, forcing us further and further into the forest's heart. It was almost absurd, as if we'd trespassed into sacred ground, and the forest itself had declared us unwelcome.
I cast one more glance at Ella's hiding spot before I moved. No more running. No more waiting for them to come. I'd had enough of being hunted. Time to return the favor.
My fist tore through the air like a drawn blade, crashing into the nearest Gale Fox. Its skull shattered on impact—a clean, decisive blow. I didn't pause. The rhythm of my battle art surged through my limbs, guiding me forward as I drove deeper into their ranks, each strike a calculated execution.
A flurry of arrows sliced past my shoulder, each one finding its mark with uncanny precision. Ella.
Her aim had always been sharp, even before awakening as a Vampire. But now—with cultivation refining her instincts—her accuracy was nearly perfect. Ninety-nine percent, last time she tested. I didn't have to look to know she was covering my blind spots.
I didn't waste effort on the lesser beasts. Those were for her.
My focus was singular.
Murderous intent rolled off me in waves, slamming into the leader of the pack. The beast froze mid-step, its fur bristling with dread. I like to think it regretted ever crossing our path—but maybe that was just wishful thinking.
It opened its mouth to summon the gale—too late.
[Dancing Twilight – Breaking Dawn]
The jab, condensed with force and intent, struck with ruthless finality. The fox's head detached in a blur, sailing through the air like a tossed helm. Blood sprayed wide, but I stepped aside, avoiding the mess. Staying clean was a matter of principle.
"Seriously, Lil—that was amazing," Ella called, descending smoothly from the canopy. The height didn't faze her. She landed beside me in a crouch, eyes glittering with satisfaction as she spotted the remains.
Her indigo gaze lingered on the glowing cores littered in the blood-soaked grass. That smile—radiant and proud—only heightened her beauty. Silver-blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face refined by both cultivation and vampiric grace. Petite, deadly, stunning. She didn't even realize how much she changed.
"This should be enough for today," I said.
Ella opened her mouth to argue, but I cut her off with a glance.
"We've been out here for over an hour. We need to head back before Sanders starts breathing down my neck."
She smirked. "Since when do you care what Sanders thinks?"
"Since I'm starving and tired," I replied flatly. "I get that you want to get stronger—I respect it. But you're not doing this alone. I'm here."
Ella didn't respond, but the tension in her shoulders eased as she knelt to gather the cores.
It had been two years since we fled the royal capital of Ashtarium. Two years of running—shifting from town to town—until Sanders smuggled us out of the west coast and into the northern reaches. Thornhill was our latest refuge. Just a week ago, we arrived and settled into a mansion Sanders had somehow acquired.
Temporary peace, maybe. But peace nonetheless.
For now.
We began making our way back, weaving through the winding paths of Enoch Forest. Ella kept count of the magic stones we'd gathered, her voice a quiet murmur of numbers. I, on the other hand, kept my senses sharp, scanning our surroundings with each step. The stones meant little to me—useful for trade, nothing more. I wasn't an Ascendant like Ella, able to channel the esoteric energies of the cosmos.
I was Manaborn, yes—but like most who hadn't Awakened, my powers were stagnant. Static. But that didn't make me weak.
We passed through a clearing where the branches thinned overhead, letting streaks of twilight spill onto the forest floor. Yet something was off. The deeper we went, the more unfamiliar the terrain became. I prided myself on my memory, but after the chaos with the Gale Foxes, the landmarks blurred. Sure enough, Ella broke the silence.
"I think we took a wrong turn," she said, her voice calm but focused. Her indigo eyes shimmered faintly—she was using one of her Ascendant abilities.
Then her gaze narrowed. "Hmm... that's strange."
"What is it?" I asked.
"There's a cave up ahead," she said slowly, tilting her head as though listening to something only she could hear. "Three o'clock from us. I'm picking up a surge of Spirit energy."
I wasn't surprised. Ella's perception had always been unnervingly sharp—even before her Awakening. I centered my focus in the direction she indicated. A beat later, I felt it too. Subtle, but real.
"Maybe we should—" I began.
"Come on, Lil," she interrupted, already grinning. "What if there's treasure? Or something even better?"
Her eyes sparkled with anticipation, that same reckless fire from our childhood. I hesitated, but as always, her enthusiasm chipped away at my reason. In the end, the part of me that wanted to see her smile won.
"Fine," I sighed. "But the second anything feels off, we pull back. No hesitation."
"Deal," she said with a smirk, already stepping toward the unknown.
Just like old times. And just like old times, I had a feeling this detour wouldn't be simple. We pushed through the dense underbrush, following the pulse of spirit energy as it grew stronger with every step. The forest around us seemed to hush, branches whispering secrets in the wind, and even the distant cries of beasts faded into silence. The mouth of the cave revealed itself as a jagged wound in the hillside, partially obscured by vines and moss. Whatever was inside hadn't seen daylight in a long time.
I was the first to enter, my boots crunching lightly over the loose gravel. Ella followed close behind, one hand on the hilt of her shortsword. The air within was cool and damp, thick with the scent of stone and something older—something metallic and faintly acrid, like dried blood and incense.
A dim, ethereal glow pulsed deeper inside. We moved cautiously down the winding tunnel until it opened into a wide chamber. My breath caught for a moment.
The center of the room was dominated by a large ritual circle etched into the stone floor—precise, elegant lines carved in a complex weave of sigils, runes, and archaic geometric patterns. A weaving array. One far more intricate than anything I'd ever seen. It pulsed faintly with a soft blue-violet hue, as if reacting to our presence.
"Whoa," Ella breathed, stepping closer. "This… this is old. Older than many relics I've seen."
"You can read any of it?" I asked, my voice low. Ella was an expert when it came to historical data and information. So I hoped maybe she could make sense of this.
She knelt by the circle, her fingers tracing the outermost symbols without touching them. "Some of it. It's a spiritual weaving array—meant to bind, or something close to it. I'm not sure. My arcane knowledge isn't that great."
I frowned, the weight of the chamber pressing down on my instincts like a vice. I felt something weird.
"That spirit energy—it's not just ambient. It's dormant. Sealed inside this array."
Ella nodded. "Or trapped. Someone poured a lot of power into this, and I don't think it was meant to be found casually."
I stepped around the perimeter, examining the faded markings scorched into the stone. Some sections were newer—patched or reinforced with different styles of rune-crafting. This array had been tampered with. Reworked. Suddenly, the glyphs nearest Ella flared with light.
"Step back—!" I barked.
But the glow surged up around her like rising mist. Her eyes widened as the array pulsed beneath her feet, threads of violet light wrapping around her like spider silk. She staggered, but didn't scream—her body simply... stilled, caught in stasis.
I moved, reaching for her, but the array pushed me back with a crackle of force. The energy didn't burn—it resisted, humming with intent, like it was choosing her.
And then, as suddenly as it had activated, the glow faded. Ella collapsed to one knee, gasping, eyes wide with something between awe and terror. I rushed to her side, heart pounding like a war drum, each beat laced with regret. My thoughts spiraled. Stupid. Careless. What if it had harmed her? What if I'd just led her into a trap?
I knelt beside her, my hand reaching out instinctively to cradle her face. "Ella… are you alright?" I asked, voice low, edged with worry.
Her skin was cool to the touch, her eyes glassy with lingering traces of the vision. For a moment, she didn't answer. We simply stared at each other—breathing the same breath, close enough to feel the tension in the air shift. Something unsaid lingered between us.
Then her lashes fluttered, and awareness returned to her gaze. She blinked, cheeks flaring pink as she realized how close we were. The moment broke like a bubble under pressure.
I cleared my throat and stood, quickly helping her to her feet while putting a bit of space between us. "You're sure you're okay?"
"I'm fine…" she began, but her words trailed off as her eyes widened, focusing past me. "Lil. Behind you."
My muscles tensed as I spun around—and froze.
From the far side of the cave, where the shadows were thickest, something moved. A tall figure stepped forward, slow and deliberate. The glow of the array reflected off its armor—black steel, etched with faint sigils that shimmered with latent energy. Standing at least six foot five, the knight moved with an eerie grace, the weight of its presence pressing down on the chamber like a suffocating fog. It was strong. That much I could tell immediately.… the pressure of it's presence, the spiritual weight.
"Damn it," I muttered, instinctively stepping in front of Ella. My fist became infused with power as the air around us thickened, charged with danger.
The knight raised its head, and though its face was hidden beneath a darkened helm, I felt its gaze settle on me like a blade drawn across skin. The runes on its armor flickered once—recognition, perhaps. Or activation. This wasn't just a guardian. It was a test. One we might not survive.
_
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. Lil'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 Lil'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. Lil 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 Lil 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," Lil 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 Lil'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 Lil, 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. Lil 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.