(Hi! I'm back! What a mess, 2 weeks without internet + 1 month of studying for my exams! HELP!
Just kidding. Anyway, let's continue our story.
P.S. If possible, could you add some comments to share your thoughts? I really like it, it brings my writing to life.
HAPPY READING!)
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POV Aiden
The sun had fallen behind the hills when I spurred Ganon down the dusty road leading to Count Albert's estate. The wind carried the scent of fresh vines; every jolt of the saddle reignited the sting of the bite at the base of my neck. I absentmindedly brushed my fingers across it.A higher vampire bold enough to raise an army of corpses, an orb hidden somewhere inside Beauclair's castle all of it formed a grim puzzle, and no one, not even the duchess too busy with her festival, wanted to believe it.
I crossed through the estate's iron gate. The courtyard was immaculate, the statues gleamed in the fading light, and children's laughter echoed under the orange trees. Yet something felt wrong: among Count Albert's soldiers, men in dark leather patrolled, too serious to be regular guards.
I dismounted. Two mercenaries rushed toward me, swords already drawn.
"Mutant! What are you doing here?" the first one hissed.
I kept my hand on my weapon's hilt but didn't draw it."I need to speak to Count Albert. It's urgent."
"The count has better things to do than listen to a monster," the other one sneered, waving his blade.
I inhaled deeply to stay calm and repeated, "I'm requesting an audience. One last time."
They stepped forward heavily. I released the clasp on my scabbard, ready to parry, when a female voice called out from the steps.
"I heard there was a witcher at the gate... but I didn't think it would be you, Aiden."
I turned. Sylvanna crimson dress, sharp gaze just like the last time we met."Sylvanna?" I breathed, incredulous.
She descended the steps without sparing the mercenaries a glance."Sheathe your swords. He's coming with me."
"But... the count" one of them stammered.
"He'll understand. Come, Aiden." She grabbed my hand and pulled me inside. The warmth and certainty of her touch eased the tension coiled in my shoulders.
Inside the dining room, she uncorked a bottle of Sangreal, Beauclair's finest vintage, and poured two glasses.
"I need a little courage. Truth is, Sylvanna isn't my real name," she admitted, sitting down.
I sniffed the wine rich with red fruits and spices."I already know. You're Syanna, Anna Henrietta's sister."
The glass froze halfway to her lips."How did you...?"
"It was obvious," I said softly. "Your anger toward the duchess, your hints about a family betrayal, and that resemblance impossible to ignore."
She let out a short laugh, half mockery, half relief."All this time, I had prepared a whole speech! Why didn't you say anything?"
"Because it was up to you to trust me."
She lowered her gaze to the immaculate tablecloth."Fine. Yes, I'm the 'cursed daughter' of the Black Sun, exiled from Toussaint by my own sister."
I set my glass down."It was never a curse, Syanna. The Lady of the Lake told me the true legend: those called 'cursed' were actually gifted bearers of a power meant to fight the vampires. You are their natural enemy."Then I explained everything the Lady had revealed.
Syanna's shoulders began to tremble. First a bitter laugh, then tears rolled down her cheeks."So... all my life, they hated me for nothing?"
I circled the table and wrapped my arms around her. Her sobs racked her body before finally giving way to exhausted silence.
"Stay a little longer," she whispered. I gently pressed her back until her breathing steadied.
She sat up and wiped her eyes with a shy, fragile smile."Sorry. I'm not used to crying in front of people."Her tone hardened slightly."So if I understand correctly, the vampires are planning something during the festival?"
"Yes. And I need your help. Count Albert is acting strangely. His estate is crawling with mercenaries. I need to talk to him or at least, search his archives."
Syanna began pacing, thinking."Albert always supported me, but he's not at the main residence. I have no idea where he's hiding."
"Then I'll look for clues here."
She grabbed a coat quickly."And I need to check something before the festival. A long time ago, the mage of our heart gave me a piece of information. Now that you've told me the real story, I know what it means. Let's meet back at our old inn, alright?"
I nodded. She hurried out, her steps already lighter.
I moved quietly through the corridors until I reached the count's study. The lock had been forced, papers scattered everywhere someone had searched the place before me.Among invoices and vineyard plans, I found a yellowed parchment hidden under a false bottom.A black wax seal bore the stylized claw of a noctule: Noctelas.The letter spoke of "regular deliveries of human subjects" to an abandoned warehouse on the edge of Beauclair payment already settled, absolute discretion required.
My anger flared.Human trafficking. A higher vampire as the client.This was the blind spot no one wanted to see.
I slid the document into my satchel, retrieved my gear, and headed back to Ganon.Night had fallen. A crescent moon hung over the vineyards.
I mounted my horse and muttered,"Come on, old boy. We've got a warehouse to check out."
The hooves beat against the gravel road. In the distance, Beauclair already glittered, blissfully unaware of the growing darkness gathering around it.
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POV Syanna
The crypt was hidden beneath a veil of vines and moss, almost swallowed by the forest. I tied up my horse and forced open the rusted gate. The scent of damp earth and decay hit me full in the face.
I lit a torch. Every stone step echoed like a funeral drum beneath my boots. Memories surged back, relentless: the mage, his reassuring words, the rare moments when someone had seen me as more than a monster.
At the bottom, a lone tomb. Carved into the stone: "Heir of the Autumn Twilight."
I placed my hand on it. A cold current shot up my arm.
Suddenly, an invisible force slammed me backward. My back hit the wall hard. The torch rolled across the floor, casting wild shadows.
I lifted my eyes slowly.
A ghostly woman floated above the tomb. Her beauty was cold, her gaze merciless.
"You are not ready," she said. "Your heart is devoured by hatred."
I pushed myself up, breathing hard.
"Because of my vengeance?" I spat, fists clenched.
She nodded once.
"Yes. As long as your soul is poisoned by revenge, he will break you."
A growl rose in my throat. A black, burning fury.
"What do you know about me?" I shouted. "My family betrayed me, abandoned me, treated me like a plague for a curse that never even existed! How do you expect me to stay calm?"
My voice rang out through the crypt, raw and wild.
The ghost remained still.
"Are you willing to sacrifice everything for your revenge?" she asked.
"Yes!" I answered without thinking, instinct taking over.
But she didn't stop.
"And Aiden?" she whispered. "Are you willing to lose him too?"
I staggered as if her words had struck me in the chest.
Aiden.
I saw his simple gestures again.His calm gaze when I panicked.His hand on my shoulder, grounding me, never judging.The rare warmth of his presence on cold nights when I thought I was alone in the world.
"No," I whispered, fists trembling. "Aiden has nothing to do with this."
The ghost moved closer, her tone softer, almost sorrowful.
"He protects you, Syanna. Without asking for anything in return. He would carry your pain without complaint. He would fight the entire world if you needed him to."
I closed my eyes. My heart pounded painfully in my chest.
I remembered his look, right before I left him behind.That look I had fled from without understanding it.An old fear wrapped around my throat the fear of being loved. The fear of being betrayed again.
"I... I don't want to lose him," I stammered, my voice breaking.
"Then choose," she said, holding her hand out to me. "Do you want to live consumed by your hatred, alone until the end, or will you reach out to the one who has already chosen to stand by you, even without knowing your full past?"
I stood frozen.Hatred weighing me down on one side.The warmth of Aiden pulling me on the other.
I thought the ground might be trembling beneath me or maybe it was just my heart.
I lifted my eyes to the ghost.
"I don't know," I confessed, lost.
And for the first time in years, it was the truth.
I stayed silent for a long time, unable to move, unable even to think clearly.The cold of the crypt gnawed at my skin, but the real battle raged inside me.
My anger was still there, lurking and silent.It promised me I'd never suffer again, never reach out and be pushed away.
But something else...Something more fragile, more terrifying, beat faintly beneath all that rage.
The memory of Aiden.His patient silences.His small acts of loyalty that I had never deserved.
I bit my lip until I tasted blood.
"I can't let go of my hatred," I finally whispered, eyes fixed on the floor. "Not yet."
The ghost didn't answer right away. She waited. She knew.
Slowly, I lifted my head, heart heavy, but with a faint spark of hope burning behind my words.
"But... I don't want to lose Aiden either."
My voice shook. Saying it out loud tore me open, forced me to admit that, despite everything, despite the anger, despite the wounds, I was still capable of loving.
And that somehow, I already had.
The ghost allowed herself the faintest smile.
"Then move forward," she said gently. "Even a hesitant step is still a step toward the light."
I clenched my fists.
I wasn't ready to abandon everything.I didn't know if I could ever silence the anger that had gnawed at me since childhood.But I knew one thing.
I wanted to see Aiden again.I wanted to try.
I took a deep breath, picked up my fallen torch, and left the crypt without looking back.
The night wind tore through my clothes the moment I stepped outside, but this time, it almost felt like it carried a promise.
I mounted my horse and rode toward our old inn, my heart heavy but somehow, a little more alive than before.
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POV Ghost ???
I watched my heir walk away, her flickering torch casting a fragile light through the darkness of the crypt.She wasn't ready. Not yet. But she had taken the first step.
Just like I once had.Just like me, before Arthur crossed my path, bringing with him the warmth I thought I had lost forever.
I laid a translucent hand on the cold stone of the tomb and whispered with a voice full of melancholy,
"Arthur, wait for me a little longer. I'll join you, along with the Lady of the Lake. I just need a little more time to give my heir her final push."
Silence returned, thick and timeless.Only the faint murmur of the stone remained, and the promise of an uncertain future.