The halls of the Moirel Estate were quiet beneath the waning crescent moon.
Maika stood on the upper veranda, the cold breeze brushing against her skin as she looked toward the west wing where Nyra had been taken to rest. After their perilous rescue, Nyra had collapsed, her body scorched with the remnants of magic and exhaustion. The elders of the clan were still unaware of the storm brewing beneath her fragile form.
Maika gripped the railing.
Something was wrong.
Very wrong.
---
A Surge in the Night
It came like a scream in the wind—silent but deafening to her senses.
A pulse.
Then another.
Dark magic. Violent. Ancient.
Maika's eyes widened. "No…" she whispered, turning on her heel and sprinting down the marbled corridors.
The west wing's doors burst open with a single flick of her hand. Inside, the air had grown thick, oppressive. The walls shivered. Furniture rattled. And Nyra—once asleep on a silk-draped bed—was now floating above it, her body surrounded by a vortex of crackling shadows.
Flames.
But not just any flames.
Black fire.
Alive, roaring, devouring everything it touched.
"Nyra!" Maika shouted.
But the girl didn't hear. Her eyes were glazed, glowing red and violet, her mouth muttering a language not spoken in this world.
The walls began to crack.
---
The Spell of Silence
Maika didn't hesitate. She summoned her staff and drew a containment sigil midair, her fingers dancing with silver glyphs.
> "Obscura Somno... Pacem... Claudere!"
A wave of blue light enveloped the girl. The surge paused. The fire twisted mid-air, snarling, resisting. But Maika held firm, her magic now locking around the girl like an invisible cocoon.
With a final cry, Nyra fell unconscious—gently lowered to the bed.
Silence returned.
But the dark flame remained.
It floated just above her chest. A single, flickering essence. It pulsed… as if it had a heartbeat of its own.
---
The Flame Speaks
Maika took a cautious step forward. Her hand hovered over the flame.
It didn't burn her.
Instead—it welcomed her.
A warmth spread through her fingertips… until—
> "Release me…"
The voice was velvet and ancient.
> "Release me… my descendant… from Lucan Carello."
Maika gasped.
A surge of pain shot through her body. Her mind was pulled into a spiral—visions of fire, blood, a woman with silver eyes and obsidian hair standing atop a mountain of corpses. A devil's mark branded into her back.
Lucille.
Maika's hand was still reaching out—but something had grabbed it from inside the flame. She could feel it. Fingers. Long, clawed, feminine.
She yanked her arm back with a cry, stumbling away and hitting the wall behind her.
The flame remained… and then vanished, seeping back into Nyra's chest.
---
The Matriarch Arrives
The door slammed open.
Lady Moirel—ancient and sharp as thorns—stood at the threshold, her long white hair braided with symbols of protection. Her eyes immediately went to Nyra, then to Maika, who sat on the ground panting.
> "What happened?" Lady Moirel demanded. "I felt the surge from the inner tower!"
Maika looked up slowly, still trembling. Her lips quivered before she finally managed to whisper:
> "She is not Nyra anymore…"
The Matriarch's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"
Maika forced herself to stand. Her voice was barely steady.
> "Inside her… lives a soul far older than any of us. It spoke to me."
> "Spoke to you?"
Maika nodded.
> "It claimed… it was Lucille."
A gasp escaped the Matriarch's lips, her staff slipping an inch. "That cannot be."
Maika stepped closer to the unconscious girl.
> "The soul of Lucille has awakened… and it has chosen Nyra as its vessel."
Inside the room, Maika sat at the foot of the bed, fingers clenched into her robes, eyes locked on Nyra's still form. Her heart hadn't stopped racing since the black flame vanished into her chest.
Lady Moirel stood near the doorway, her face drawn tight with horror and disbelief.
> "Lucille cannot be alive," she muttered. "The soul of a devil… it should have been erased long ago."
Maika shook her head.
> "This isn't resurrection. It's reclamation. The soul wasn't gone. It was hidden. Sleeping. Waiting… and now it has awakened."
The air turned cold.
Then Nyra's fingers twitched.
Her chest rose in a deep inhale. Eyes fluttered open.
But they were no longer the soft, storm-gray eyes of Nyra Moirel.
They were glowing red.
---
Lucille Awakens
Nyra sat up slowly, without help. Her movements were too graceful, too composed. Like a queen returning to her throne. Her gaze swept the room—first at the ceiling, then the tapestry, the candlelight… until they landed on Maika.
She tilted her head.
A smile curled on her lips. But it wasn't Nyra's smile. It was sharper. Ancient. Seductive. Terrifying.
> "So… this is the world that dares to forget me."
Maika rose cautiously. "Lucille."
Nyra's body turned fully toward her, the voice that followed a silk-covered blade.
> "You wear the blood of Carello, don't you from Lucan? Yes? I can smell it under your skin. Faint… but there and a strong scent from the Vellaria Vampire..you my child is one of a kind"
Maika stiffened. "I am not your servant."
Lucille chuckled.
> "Oh, little one. If I wanted a servant, I'd call upon legions. No. I want something else."
Lady Moirel raised her staff, her magic glowing with green light. "You are not welcome here, devil's child."
Lucille's eyes glinted with interest. She turned her gaze toward the Matriarch.
> "Do you remember, old woman? The tower. The shackles. The betrayal."
The room trembled.
Lucille stood from the bed, her feet never touching the floor. Her long black hair rippled though there was no wind. Shadows danced around her like pets returning to their master.
> "You locked my blood in cages," she whispered, eyes boring into the elder.
> "You are a curse!" the Matriarch spat.
Lucille smirked.
> "And yet, I birthed your line. Without me, the Moirel clan would be nothing but hedge witches and forgotten names."
She stepped forward. The air hissed with black embers. "I am not here to seek revenge… yet. I've just returned. And I want to breathe."
---
Maika stepped in front of the Matriarch. "Nyra is still inside. I can feel her."
Lucille's expression softened faintly. For a moment, there was a flicker of confusion. Sadness?
> "The girl… She dreams. She weeps… but she opened the door. She let me in. And now we are one."
Maika's heart twisted. "That girl—she trusted me. She was born with a spark, not a curse. You cannot just take her."
Lucille's voice dropped to a whisper, echoing unnaturally.
> "I didn't take. I answered. Her soul called out in fear, in rage. I am the answer to what this world did to her."
A silence fell between them.
Lucille looked down at her hands, flexing them as though remembering what it meant to hold power.
> "Let the Council come," she said softly. "Let them send their arrows and lies. Let them tremble as they once did. Because now…"
She raised her hand—and the flame appeared again. Blacker than midnight. Hotter than the sun.
> "Lucille walks this world once more."