Seraphine opened her eyes.
She was no longer in the Abyss.
Instead, she stood in the Palace of Eternal Night—but something was wrong.
The walls were too tall, stretching into infinity like prison bars carved from bone. Chandeliers hung upside-down from the ceiling, dripping black wax that burned with cold fire. The marble floor beneath her feet pulsed faintly, as if alive.
And at the center of it all stood Aeloria.
She wore a crown of thorns, its sharp edges biting into her pale skin. Her gown shimmered like blood on water, shifting between red and black with every breath.
She turned slowly to face Seraphine.
Her smile was soft. Almost kind.
"Welcome home, Mother."
Seraphine took a cautious step forward.
This wasn't real.
It couldn't be.
But the air smelled familiar—like old parchment, burning myrrh, and iron.
Like the palace she had grown up in.
Like death.
"You brought me here," Seraphine said, her voice hoarse.
Aeloria tilted her head. "You came willingly."
Seraphine clenched her fists. "I didn't come for you. I came for answers."
Aeloria's smile widened.
"Then ask."
Seraphine swallowed hard.
"Who are you?"
Aeloria laughed softly.
"I told you before."
"I am your daughter."
"No," Seraphine whispered. "My daughter would love me."
Aeloria stepped closer, her bare feet silent against the stone.
"I do."
"In my way."
Seraphine shook her head. "You're not mine."
Aeloria's expression darkened.
"You gave me life."
"You fed me."
"You made me what I am."
She gestured around them.
"This place remembers."
Seraphine looked around.
The palace shifted again.
Portraits lined the walls—some of queens long dead, others unfamiliar. One caught her eye.
It was of a woman who looked exactly like her.
Except her belly was swollen, her eyes hollow.
And standing beside her was a girl.
Aeloria.
Only older.
Taller.
Crowned in bone.
Seraphine staggered back.
"That's not real," she whispered.
Aeloria stepped behind her.
"Isn't it?"
Seraphine turned sharply.
"What are you trying to show me?"
Aeloria reached out, brushing a hand through the air.
The illusion shattered.
And then—
They were somewhere else.
***
A throne room made of flesh and shadow.
A cradle carved from ribcages.
Seraphine found herself kneeling before an altar where a woman lay unconscious—her own face reflected in the polished obsidian floor.
Aeloria stood beside her.
"This is where it began," she said gently.
Seraphine stared at the scene.
"What happened here?"
Aeloria smiled.
"You called me."
Seraphine flinched.
"No."
Aeloria knelt beside the unconscious version of her mother.
"Yes."
"You begged for another chance."
"You made a pact with the void."
Seraphine's breath hitched.
"I didn't mean to summon you."
Aeloria's gaze was unreadable.
"But you did."
She placed a hand over Seraphine's heart.
"You wanted to live."
"So you gave birth to hunger."
Seraphine closed her eyes.
Memories surfaced—unbidden.
A battlefield.
Blood-soaked armor.
A dying king.
Her own wounds deep and mortal.
A whispering voice offering her survival in exchange for something she wouldn't understand until years later.
A pact sealed with blood.
A promise broken before it was made.
Seraphine gasped.
"No," she whispered. "No, I didn't know."
Aeloria studied her carefully.
"That doesn't matter now."
Seraphine looked up at her.
"Then tell me what I've created."
Aeloria's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.
"You summoned me."
"From the womb of the world itself."
Seraphine shivered.
Aeloria continued.
"I was never meant to be born."
"I was summoned by desperation."
"Bound to your flesh."
"Fed by your fear."
Seraphine pressed a trembling hand to her belly.
"You're not just a child," she murmured.
Aeloria nodded.
"No."
"I am the Devouring Spirit."
"Born not of love, but of need."
Seraphine staggered back.
"No."
Aeloria stepped forward.
"Yes."
"You gave me life."
"Now I will take yours."
Seraphine's breath caught.
"I won't let you."
Aeloria tilted her head.
"Too late."
***
The palace around them twisted violently.
Walls stretched. Floors cracked. Chandeliers fell, shattering like glass.
Seraphine screamed as pain lanced through her abdomen—sharp, invasive.
Inside her body, Aeloria moved.
Not growing.
Changing.
Seraphine clutched herself tightly, doubling over as the pressure inside her became unbearable.
"Let me go," she gasped.
Aeloria laughed.
"You already did."
Seraphine collapsed to her knees.
"I didn't mean to," she sobbed. "I only wanted to survive."
Aeloria knelt beside her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
"And so did I."
Seraphine met her gaze.
"You weren't supposed to exist."
Aeloria's smile faded.
"Neither were you."
She leaned in close.
"You think you're the mother."
"But you were always the vessel."
Seraphine's heart pounded.
"No."
Aeloria touched her forehead lightly.
And everything changed.
***
Seraphine stood in darkness.
Before her, a mirror rose from the void—tall, ancient, covered in runes that pulsed with unnatural light.
Aeloria appeared beside her.
"Look," she whispered.
Seraphine hesitated.
Then, slowly, she turned toward the mirror.
At first, she saw only herself.
Pale. Tired. Dying.
But then—
The reflection changed.
The woman in the mirror was different.
Her face was Seraphine's, but older. Colder.
Her belly was flat.
Empty.
Behind her stood a girl.
Tall.
Beautiful.
Terrifying.
Aeloria.
Fully formed.
Standing outside the womb.
Outside her.
Seraphine gasped.
The mirror showed her future.
Or perhaps… her past.
She turned to Aeloria.
"You were never inside me," she whispered.
Aeloria smiled.
"Not at first."
She stepped closer.
"I was summoned into you."
"Because you were willing."
"Because you were afraid."
"Because you needed power."
Seraphine trembled.
"And now?"
Aeloria reached out, pressing her palm to Seraphine's chest.
"Now I'm ready to leave."
Seraphine staggered back.
"No."
Aeloria tilted her head.
"Why fight me?"
"You made me."
Seraphine swallowed hard.
"I didn't know what I was doing."
Aeloria's expression softened.
"Doesn't change what you did."
Seraphine closed her eyes.
"I loved you."
Aeloria paused.
Then, quietly:
"That's why I waited."
Seraphine opened her eyes.
Aeloria was watching her carefully.
"I could have taken you long ago."
"But I wanted to see if you would give yourself to me."
Seraphine frowned. "What does that mean?"
Aeloria stepped back.
"You can still choose."
"Let me be born."
"Or fight me—and die screaming."
Seraphine swallowed hard.
"Is that truly my only choice?"
Aeloria smiled.
"For now."
Seraphine exhaled slowly.
Then she lifted her chin.
"If I must choose…"
Aeloria tilted her head.
"Then I choose to fight."
***
Back in the waking world, Lady Nyxara watched helplessly as Seraphine convulsed on the altar.
Her veins glowed brighter.
Her breathing grew ragged.
Nyxara whispered protective wards under her breath, though she knew they wouldn't help—not here, not now.
The Heart of the First Vampire pulsed violently beside them, reacting to the battle within.
Nyxara looked down at Seraphine.
"Hold on," she whispered. "Just a little longer."
But even she feared it was already too late.
Because deep within the queen's womb…
"Let's play," Aeloria whispered.