At the end of this apocalyptic hell, initial reports estimate over two hundred civilian deaths, primarily nobles and their butlers who lived near the battlefield. The toll could have been much worse, but most residents evacuated before getting caught in the skirmish. Ayra was rushed to the royal family’s private dical center in critical condition. According to the doctors, her body—unable to endure the imnse power of the Shadowshaper form—collapsed, like an overinflated balloon ready to burst.
The dical center is the most advanced facility I’ve ever seen—straight out of a sci-fi movie. Despite Mildelar’s gothic, almost dieval architecture, its technological developnt far surpasses ours. Yet, I see no flying machines or futuristic devices, which leads to believe that vampires are a highly traditionalist race, relying on technology only in ergencies when, presumably, magic isn’t enough.
Ayra is subrged in what looks like a massive incubator filled with semi-transparent red liquid. Countless tiny tubes connect her body to a large machine, carrying a darker, denser red fluid—likely blood. I sit beside the incubator, assigned to assist the dical team if needed. For now, my job is to watch over her, call for help if she wakes up, and press a button if the machine monitoring her vitals sounds an alarm. Of course, since this concerns a princess’s life, doctors and assistants take turns checking on her, never leaving alone.
My eyes remain locked on her—I don’t look away for even a second.
The sliding tal door of the dical center—opening like an elevator—slides open once again. Who is it this ti? A doctor? A nurse? A guard? I don’t even turn to check—I don’t care. My focus is solely on Ayra, still unresponsive. Seeing her like this—trapped between life and death—stirs sothing in ... compassion? Could I really feel such an emotion for her? Would a slave pity their master? I doubt it... so why am I here, silently praying for her to wake up?
«You’re worried about her, aren’t you? It’s written all over your face.»
A female voice beside breaks my silent thoughts. Turning slightly, I see Daphne, dressed in a long coat resembling those worn in human hospitals, though hers is crafted from elegant golden fabric with intricate embellishnts. She was admitted alongside Ayra, but only as a precaution—she suffered no injuries, just exhaustion from excessive Sanguis energy use. A large dose of blood was enough to restore her completely.
«Yeah...» I reply simply, my voice tinged with lancholy but without hesitation.
For a familiar, showing concern for their master must be the most foolish thing a vampire could witness. I’ve kept up an indifferent act in front of the doctors, as if I were here purely out of duty. But in truth, I would have stayed by Ayra’s side regardless. With Daphne, though, it’s different. I don’t feel the need to suppress my emotions. The way she cared for her familiar during the battle, and the way Kajetan spoke about her, make think their relationship isn’t built on daily torture and humiliation—just like mine with Ayra.
«That ans my little sister is doing a good job with you. That truly makes happy,» she says with a gentle smile, though her worried, tear-reddened eyes remain fixed on her sister’s motionless body.
«You and your sister are so different from the other vampires...» I murmur, lowering my gaze. «The familiars I’ve spoken to told about the daily torture and abuse they suffer. Even your younger sisters—Sasha and Levreshka—whip and electrocute theirs. Not that I mind the more humane treatnt I receive—sa for Kajetan, I assu—but I don’t understand why there’s such a gap in how familiars are treated. Is it because I’m a predestined familiar and Kajetan is the top-ranked?»
Daphne shakes her head, a faint smile on her lips. «Kajetan didn’t beco number one the day he beca my familiar, yet I never mistreated him. In fact, I removed his control collar in less than a week. The practice of training familiars through fear has ancient roots. We know that when humans experience deep fear, they either break or awaken an inner strength that pushes them beyond their limits. So, the most logical approach was to keep familiars in a constant state of fear—though, over ti, punishnt shifted from education to re entertainnt. A view I do not share. I have always treated Kajetan with the utmost respect—within reason, of course, since he is still a human, not my equal—because I believe a familiar performs best when they fight to truly make their master happy, rather than out of fear of failure’s consequences.»
Her gaze moves from Ayra to . «I imagine you’ve noticed that my little sister has a considerable... admiration for ?»
«Well, it’s hard not to notice...» I reply, smirking at the thought of all the ways Ayra tries to imitate Daphne.
«I don’t know when or why she beca so attached to . It may sound strange to you, but vampires don’t feel affection the way humans do—not even between sisters. Yet, Ayra is an exception. She has always been unusually empathetic, even as a child. Unfortunately, the world she was born into leaves no room for such emotions. I’m certain that her almost human-like nature, combined with her admiration for , is why she treats you so differently from other familiars,» Daphne explains in her sweet, srizing voice. «I hope that answered your question.» She finishes with a lancholic smile, turning her gaze back to her sister.
I knew it. Deep down, I was sure Ayra was different from other vampires, and Daphne’s words only confird it.
«You are truly a fortunate human, believe . And not because you’re a predestined familiar, but because you’ve found the only light in this world of darkness,» Daphne adds, sitting beside . I listen to every word in reverent silence.
«A world of darkness...» I repeat. «So, your views aren’t so different from Vespera’s,» I say, not accusing, just seeking clarification.
«Vespera’s beliefs, and those of her organization, aren’t entirely wrong. Like my little sister, I’m cursed with strong empathy, and the injustices of our society are painfully clear to . But exterminating an entire race over it is pure madness. Today, their so-called pursuit of justice and freedom caused over two hundred innocent deaths—just a drop in the sea of victims their insanity has claid. Violence only breeds more violence, which is why I can never support those terrorists.»
A speech worthy of a Nobel Peace Prize. Even Gandhi would be proud.
She finally places a reassuring hand on my shoulder. «It’s dinner ti for the familiars. After everything you’ve been through today—your spectacular fight with Luke Dulcar and the CrimsonRequiem ambush—you can’t afford to go to bed on an empty stomach. I’ll stay with my sister. Go and enjoy your well-deserved rest.»
«I’m not hungry, I swear,» I reply, but at that exact mont, my stomach growls loudly in the silence of the room, protesting my determination to stay by Ayra’s side.
«Seems like your body disagrees,» she remarks, laughing heartily for the first ti since I t her. A laugh that only accentuates her already stunning beauty.
«One last thing, Lyon.» Her expression suddenly turns serious. «She may not show it, but she’s working hard to make you a familiar worthy of the surna you’ve been given. I ask only one thing: do not hurt her. For any reason.» Her eyes narrow slightly, fixing with a vaguely threatening gaze. «If I ever find out that you’ve made her suffer, I will personally make you experience such unbearable pain that you will beg to kill you. Am I clear?»
«I would never do anything to hurt her feelings, I promise!» I reply firmly, though a hint of fear creeps into my voice due to her tone.
At my determined response, she smiles again. «I’ll let you know as soon as she recovers. Enjoy your al, Lyon. And... don’t talk to any of that person’s family about what happened today»
With those words, she teleports straight back to my room.
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