Flashbacks

Born to nobility, I grew up in the lap of Vampiric luxury under the rule of Queen Hundred, my mother. My father, the leader of The Cauldron, was rarely around during my early years. His mysterious role in Vampire Society left me with little paternal guidance, and his infrequent appearances only added to the enigma surrounding him. The only memory I can recall is the time he came to the palace and taught me how to turn into a bat. While my mother ruled over Sanguine, my father's influence operated from the shadows, making him a distant figure in my upbringing. In a grand palace, where opulence met the shadows, I remember a moment as a seven-year-old:

One evening, in a quiet chamber, I faced Queen Hundred. "Mother," I spoke hesitantly.

Her gaze, intense and regal, met mine. "Lysandra," she murmured. "What is it?"

"In the future, will I be as powerful as you?" I asked.

My mother's laughter, a haunting melody, filled the space. "Power is claimed, not given. And you, Lysandra, shall claim it all."

I nodded, eager to prove myself.

However, my mother was wrong. Power isn't claimed. It's taken from you. Only then, in the pain of powerlessness, do you forge your own power. Power comes through pain... but my mother never mentioned that part.

CRACK!

I watched another memory pass by. I was 14. In the grand hall, my mother's disapproval cut through me like a blade. My feeble attempts at Blood Magic had fallen short, and her cold gaze only intensified the weight of my failure.

"You disappoint me, Lysandra," she snapped. "For a noble, you can't even master the basics. It's a disgrace."

A whip formed from Blood Magic materialized in her hand, and its crack echoed through the hall. Pain seared my back as she lashed out, a harsh reminder of my inadequacy. I bit back the urge to cry out, but tears welled in my eyes.

As the whipping ceased, I crumpled to the floor, blood staining the obsidian palace tiles. My mother's cold voice lingered, "You'll learn. Weakness is a luxury we cannot afford."

I vowed silently to prove her wrong.

Another memory flooded through. I was 16. I stood tall, clad in the Academy uniform, defiance burning in my eyes. The royal chamber, where my mother sat on her throne, seemed to shrink as I mustered the courage to confront the queen.

"This has to stop!" I exclaimed, my voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. "Your constant punishment, the Blood Magic lessons— I won't let you break me!"

Queen Hundred regarded me with a cold detachment. "You think you can defy me, daughter?"

"I won't be your puppet any longer, I know that," I retorted, my words slicing through the tense air. "I'll master Blood Magic on my own terms, on my own time. Not under your cruel methods."

Her laughter echoed in the chamber, chilling my resolve. "You'll learn, one way or another. Remember, Lysandra, weakness is a luxury we cannot afford."

"UGH!" I couldn't take it anymore. The frustration, the pain, everything boiled over. With an instinctual scream, I felt my body shifting, morphing into the form of a bat. Wings sprouted from my back, and before anyone could react, I shot toward the window and burst into the sky, the light of the stalactites above shining down on me.

The wind rushed past me as I soared over the city, leaving the suffocating atmosphere of the palace behind. I was finally free. The warm, open air felt amazing on my skin, and I embraced my newfound freedom, determined to forge my own destiny.

For 138 years, I wandered through Sanguine, living in the moment, doing whatever I felt like at the time. Roaming the land, meeting interesting folks but avoiding lasting ties. In my journey, I absorbed stories that etched themselves into my memory. Whispers of an Upperworld, once home to Elder Vampires, told of their demise by the White Knights, an order of Humans who worked as supernatural beast hunters. Cosmic deities and a somber Underworld added layers to the tales. Amidst these narratives stood Grant Anderson, the lone defender against supernatural threats in the Overworld.

One day, I stumbled upon a cave during a mountain hike. Strange sounds led me through. I also heard laughter and screams of joy. Eventually, after going through winding tunnels, I emerged behind a waterfall into the Overworld. 

I looked below. At the waterfall's base, Humans were swimming and laughing. Unfamiliar sounds emanated from an open vehicle parked near the pond, blaring music—an alien contraption to me then. I had never seen a car in my life.

Wide-eyed, I refrained from uttering a word. Transforming into a bat, I soared over them into the open sky. The vast mountain range unfolded before me, revealing Humans hiking and driving through. It appeared to be a resort or park. I was ecstatic and completely in awe. Another world I had never known had unveiled itself before me.

Excitement coursing through me, my joy was abruptly cut short as something struck me out of the sky. I reverted back to my normal form, plummeting to the ground with a cry of pain.

Crashing to the forest ground, agony surged through me. I could feel the bones in my ribs crack, and my legs snapped under the impact. With sheer determination, I channeled all my strength into regenerating the broken limbs. In the midst of this struggle, a lone truck rolled up. As the door swung open, a young-looking man with a beard and unkempt, ebony hair emerged, his foot meeting the ground.

I shifted my gaze to the source of the initial pain, only to find a searing sensation in my side. A quick inspection revealed a bullet lodged there.

Grant Anderson stepped out of the truck, his silhouette illuminated by the fading sunlight. He wore a rugged leather duster, faded jeans, and scuffed leather boots. On his belt, a gleaming silver revolver and a well-worn wooden crossbow. Various vials and potions dangled from his belt. His rugged features and piercing gaze told of a seasoned warrior who had faced the unknown and lived to tell the tale.

Grant Anderson sighed, clicking his tongue and crossing his arms. His dark, brown eyes inspected me. "Didn't mean to hit you there. Always try to make it less painful for you bloodsuckers. I really do, I swear," He drew his crossbow with a nonchalant shake of his head. "Well, what can ya do, huh? I imagine it's better than being shot with a fireball."

He chuckled to himself as he examined my sprawled body. "Oh, wait, she's a young one," He said, nodding and putting away the crossbow. He called out, "We got us a young one, Alessia!" 

A woman, Alessia, stepped out of the truck, her piercing black eyes meeting mine. She wore a midnight-blue leather jacket, and dark jeans. Unlike Grant, she carried no weapons or potions. Her short, wavy blonde hair framed her face, revealing a distinctive genetic signature—traits of Noble House Ashkin. As I studied her, the recognition dawned with the familiar black eyes and blonde hair combo. Fangs gleamed as she spoke, "Grant, you really need to work on your aim." She looked me over, her gaze assessing. "A young one, indeed. What's your name, little Vampire?"

I grunted in pain, feeling the impact of the bullet in my side as I glared at Grant. "You... you're a hunter." I looked at Alessia. "And you're a Vampire!"

Grant chuckled, a wry smile on his face. "Got it in one, little Vampire. Last of my kind, too. Supernatural beast hunter, they used to call us. I honestly do more policing than killing, but then again there doesn't seem to be much of a difference these days." He chuckled again.

I winced as I tried to sit up. "Just kill me, then."

Grant gestured towards me. "Oh no, no can do. We don't kill the young ones. Just wanted to make sure you weren't a threat. You know, got to keep things in check. Can't have Vampires running wild, biting folks."

I raised an eyebrow. "You attack first and ask questions later?"

Grant shrugged. "Occupational hazard."

I glared at him but complied, realizing I was at a disadvantage with a bullet in my side.

"I'm not here to feed... I don't even know how I got here."

Grant looked at me, confused. He raised an eyebrow. "Got here? What do you mean, 'Got here?' Where exactly did you come from?"

Alessia interrupted. "Vampires don't come from anywhere in particular; she's bluffing. We're wild creatures. Come on, Grant, let's hurry this up, please. I'm exhausted."

Grant paused for a moment. "Alessia, is there something you're not telling me?"

Alessia scoffed. "Are you serious right now, Grant Anderson? Ugh, whatever. I'll wait in the truck." With attitude, she got back inside, slamming the door.

Grant turned around, staring at Alessia through the windshield. She glared at him, and he shrugged sheepishly. As if on cue, my limbs finished regenerating, and I took the moment he turned away to dash off into the forest. I ran with all my might, and I heard Grant's voice call after me, "Bye! Don't kill anyone! Go drink from a cow or something!"

I flew back to the waterfall near the cave, reentered, and returned to Sanguine. I was fearful, I admit.

With not knowing what to do with my life from there, I made a bold choice. I decided to return to Vampire Society, back to Queen Hundred's palace. I don't really know why... homesickness, perhaps.

Queen Hundred sat on her throne, a regal figure draped in elaborate black and red robes. Her long, ebony hair cascaded down her shoulders, framing a face that bore the weight of centuries. As I entered the royal chamber, the queen's piercing eyes met mine, and a knowing smile played on her lips.

"Lysandra," she purred, her voice a mixture of authority and satisfaction. "You've returned."

I nodded, meeting her gaze with a mix of defiance and weariness. My voice dripped with sarcasm. "Hello, Mother. How great a pleasure it is to see you again."

Queen Hundred leaned forward, her fingers steepled beneath her chin. "I knew you would. You may be willful, but you are still my daughter."

"Why didn't you tell me about the world above?" I demanded, unable to contain the frustration bubbling within me. "You kept me in the dark about everything. I had to find out on my own."

She regarded me with an imperious air, her tone unwavering. "You were not ready. The world above is a dangerous place for our kind. It is fraught with peril, and not all Vampires who venture there return unscathed."

I scoffed, my resentment boiling to the surface. "I could have handled it. You raised me to be strong, didn't you?"

The queen's eyes narrowed, and a shadow of disapproval flickered across her face. "Strength alone does not ensure survival."

"Grant Anderson," I said strongly. "Why didn't you mention that there are hunters up there?"

My mother recoiled slightly, and her eyelids fluttered—a rare expression of surprise. "Oh, so you met him, did you? The less you know about him, the better," She replied, her gaze unwavering. "Our society has its own complexities, and I shield you from external threats. If you would have just stayed here instead of throwing a 140-year tantrum, you would have likely never even known about it."

Frustration and curiosity battled within me, but I held my tongue. 

Yet, I couldn't shake the urge to reveal the truth about Grant Anderson—the Vampire Hunter who spared me; he was working together with a Noble Vampire. "Do you know about the Vampire?" I inquired, studying my mother's expression for any signs of recognition.

Her gaze flickered across me, scrutinizing every inch. "What Vampire? What are you talking about, Lysandra?" Her tone held a mix of confusion and impatience.

A moment of contemplation passed, and then I decided. Spiteful amusement danced in my eyes as I withheld the information. "Nothing, Mother. I just saw a dead Common outside, that's all. It's a pretty ugly scene, you might want to get a maid to clean it up." With a dismissive wave, I turned and strolled away, adding over my shoulder, "I'm not staying here for good. This is temporary." The door closed with a resolute thud.

"If she wants to keep secrets, I can too," I muttered, walking to my bedroom.

Back in my room, that night unfolded with the strangest dreams. The chaotic mix of fragmented memories, fleeting glimpses of the Overworld, and my mother's disapproving eyes played in a dizzying loop. Amid the confusion, one persistent image stood out—the solitary figure of a hunter, shrouded in darkness, and the ominous glow of his crossbow.

Another memory unfolded—many years later, a vivid recollection of my mother pacing anxiously in the royal chamber. It was a rare sight, witnessing her genuinely distressed. The tension in the room escalated as she yelled, "Alessia! You will pay for this! For everything you've done! Your entire bloodline will pay! Cannibalism is one thing, but this... this stops now!"

Concern etched across my face, I inquired, "Mother, what's wrong? I've never seen you like this before."

My mother, a flicker of fear in her eyes, shouted, "There is a Half-Vampire walking around and I won't allow it!"

My mind flashed back to the encounter with Grant and Alessia, and a jolt surged through my chest. "How do you know?" I asked cautiously.

My mother, inches from my face, retorted, "That is none of your concern."

Defiantly, I pressed further, "But what if it is?" In response, my mother, breaking her composed facade, struck me. My body hurtled across the room, crashing into the wall and leaving a gaping dent in its wake.

I couldn't bear it anymore after that.

I left that night, bidding farewell to Sanguine and my mother. The Overworld beckoned, and I sought solace far away from the shadows of Sanguine. I used Illusion Magic to change the color of my eyes and hair to pink, a conscious decision to distance myself from the reflection that reminded me so much of my mother.

I stayed in the Overworld for only a few days, until I crossed paths with Grant yet again, this time in the most unexpected place—the line at Six Flags. Amidst the crowd, he stood out, battered and bruised. His eyes met mine, and he approached with a casual demeanor, though his solemn expression betrayed the pain he hid.

"I knew I recognized you from somewhere. Cool hair," he groaned, and I couldn't hide my astonishment.

"Grant? What... happened to you?" I noticed his arms, seemingly rotting before my eyes, burnt skin and flesh peeling off. He concealed them with his tattered jacket, which bore scorch marks as well.

"Oh, nothing much. Hey, I found out about that place you blood-suckers come from. Real beautiful place, yeah. Just came from there." His words carried sarcasm, but he winced as he spoke. "And if you ever wanna go back there, I suggest you go now, otherwise you'll be stuck here forever."

I raised my eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

Before Grant could finish his explanation, he smiled, "I put a magical barrier up. Sorry. Should be done calibrating in 24 hours. You might wanna go now if you know what's good fo—" And, before he could complete his sentence, I watched in shock as Grant Anderson disintegrated into dust right in the middle of the crowded line. His remains were carried off by the wind, causing people around me to scream and gasp, pointing at the sudden spectacle. Without a second thought, I fled the scene and returned to Sanguine through the waterfall once again.

For years, I had lingered in the Overworld, which allowed me to avoid the aftermath of Alessia's havoc. News of the widespread destruction reached me when I returned. Sanguine City and the Academy were undergoing extensive reconstruction by the Necessaries, who diligently worked on the century-long restoration project. After nearly 100 years, when the construction was completed, I made a decision to resume my education. I enrolled once again at the restored Noble Vampire Academy. To add to my new appearance, I changed my name to Darcia and kept my noble lineage a well-kept secret. It was in this phase of my life, during my Second Year at the Academy, that I crossed paths with Kaizer.

Memories rushed in—the first glance exchanged with Kaizer in Vampiric History and Culture, and the moments we shared at homecoming and prom. A memory that I had almost forgotten also resurfaced, a conversation I had with Kaizer in the school cafeteria.

As I approached Kaizer's table, the lunchroom buzzed with activity. A sense of anticipation filled the air as I spoke, "Mind if I join you, Kaizer?"

I could feel Kaizer's heart quicken as he looked up, his obsidian eyes piercing through his wavy, unkempt black hair, meeting my gaze. 

"Of course," Kaizer replied, a goofy smile playing on his lips. He gestured for me to take a seat, and I gracefully settled into the chair beside him, our eyes locked.

"I heard there's something special planned in your Combat Arts class today. Are you looking forward to it? I'll be honest; I already know what it is because I've taken the Level 1 class, and I think you'll love it."

Kaizer nodded, his gaze meeting mine. "Yeah, they say Professor Elysium has something challenging in store. I'm curious to see what it is. Don't spoil it for me, though."

He leaned in with a playful smirk. "You know, I've been trying to find the courage to sit down and get to know you for a while."

I chuckled. "Well, you found it. What do you want to talk about?"

He shrugged, feigning nonchalance. "Oh, you know, the usual. Life, love, the mysteries of the universe."

I rolled my eyes playfully. "Quite the casual breakfast conversation."

Kaizer's gaze intensified, and he said with a hint of sincerity, "Okay, how about this: What's the most interesting thing about you that nobody knows?"

I thought for a moment, and my first thought was that I was Queen Hundred's daughter, but instead I replied, "I can turn into a bat—without touching any bat blood."

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Really? Now that's something. Ever used it to escape an awkward situation?"

I nodded. "More times than I can count."

He chuckled, and our laughter mingled in the bustling cafeteria.

A torrent of memories engulfed me—Kaizer enlisting my help to steal the tote from my mother, our first kiss and the forging of a Blood Bond in Gertrude's cabin, the journey to The Barrier and our failed attempt to reach the Underworld, encountering the Leviathan, the moments with the people of Serpentara... it became overwhelming. I cherished those memories, but the pain of reliving them without the tangible presence of Kaizer was too much. I yearned to halt the flood, to feel him again, to gaze into those obsidian eyes resembling starry skies...

In an instant, the memories dissolved into darkness, revealing Shadowpaw's presence. His unexpected appearance made me start, but his grin eased my initial surprise.

"You had an interesting childhood, Princess," he remarked, standing casually amidst the surrounding void.

I scoffed at the title. "Don't call me that. What exactly are you looking for in my memories anyway? What's the point of all this?"

Shadowpaw's grin widened. "I want to know how you got your Curse." Abruptly, the darkness transformed, unfolding a scene etched painfully in my memory—a torrent of blood streaming from Kaizer's mansion on Serpentara, drenching me in a crimson cascade while I sobbed on the ground. It was the moment my one true love was taken from me, and the moment that I lost my telepathic connection to him. It broke me.

"Kaizer!" I cried out desperately, my voice lost in the cacophony of the bloodstorm. There was no response, no sign of my beloved. Panic surged within me, threatening to consume my very soul.

Then, a horrifying realization dawned upon me. I couldn't remember his memories anymore. The bond we shared, once a wellspring of shared experiences, had been severed. I frantically searched the depths of my mind, desperately seeking any trace of Kaizer's life, but it had all vanished, as though it had never been.

I sobbed into my blood-soaked hands, feeling the crushing weight of the broken connection in my very soul.

A familiar voice, cold and sadistic, pierced the chaos from behind me. "Aw, poor Lysandra," the voice cooed mockingly. "Or should I say 'Darcia?' We're going home now, daughter. There is much we need to talk about. Do not fret, your Half-Vampire companion will be unharmed, and the same goes for Lucius. His father accompanied me to retrieve you both. As for the outlaw... Lady Gertude was taken care of accordingly. I comprehend your desire for spontaneity, as I was once your age as well. Nevertheless, it is now imperative to return to the real world, my daughter. Tomorrow, you shall resume your studies at school."

I turned around, fury and anguish burning in my eyes, summoning a pair of blood daggers, their edges gleaming with a deadly promise, in my trembling hands.

My mother, Queen Hundred, smiled like a maniac, her eyes filled with a twisted glee. "Oh, you want to challenge me, daughter? Very well then," she declared, her voice dripping with anticipation. "We both knew this day would come eventually, didn't we!?"

The air pulsed with tension as I confronted her, my heart pounding, and determination blazing in my eyes. I gripped my blood daggers tightly, ready to strike. With lightning speed, I lunged forward, launching a barrage of rapid, unpredictable attacks from various angles.

My mother, infuriatingly composed, stood her ground. She exuded confidence, her stance unwavering. My blades sliced through the air with deadly precision, but she deflected them effortlessly, using only a rapier made from Blood Magic. Her movements were like a dance of supernatural grace, and it felt as though she had predicted my every move.

I couldn't break through her defenses. It was as if time itself slowed for her, allowing her to counter my strikes with uncanny accuracy. The room echoed with the clash of steel meeting steel, a haunting symphony of battle.

My relentless assault drained me, while Mother's eerie smile remained intact. With each passing moment, my hope waned.

As the battle raged, it became painfully clear that I was outmatched. My energy dwindled, and Mother's confidence grew. In a calculated move, she parried one of my attacks and delivered a crushing counterstrike, sending me tumbling to the ground.

Gasping for breath, my daggers dropped to the floor with a clatter. I looked up at my mother, my spirit unbroken but my body unable to continue the fight. She stood above me, triumphant and merciless.

"It seems the inevitable has come to pass, my dear daughter," she declared with a sadistic smile. "You were never a match for me."

I reluctantly returned to Sanguine City with my mother, and continued my education yet again at the Academy. On the last day of school of my Second Year, I decided to seek out Shadowpaw in the Subterranean Bazaar. Amidst the vibrant marketplace, I found him standing at a random spot, as he always seemed to be.

"Shadowpaw," I called out.

He turned from his collection of curiosities. "Darcia. What brings you here?"

I got straight to the point. "I need your help to find Kaizer."

His eyes glinted. "Matters of the heart, eh? What are you willing to trade?"

"Anything," I replied without hesitation.

His grin widened, and he replied, "Sorry, I don't mean to waste your time, but I have no idea where the young man is."

I scoffed, frustration evident in my voice. "Liar!"

Shadowpaw clicked his tongue. "I'm being honest. I was thinking about making you pay me with that royal money of yours and scurrying off, but I see this truly is a painful matter for you. I wish I had all the answers, Darcia, but contrary to popular belief, I don't..."

I glared at him. "So, you're useless."

He raised an eyebrow. "Useless is a strong word. I prefer 'selectively helpful.'"

Without hesitation, I materialized a dagger of blood in my hand and put it up to his snout. "Shadowpaw... if I find out you're lying to me..."

Shadowpaw didn't even flinch; he took one finger and pushed the blade away with his claw. "Perhaps I can still be of service to you. Where do you think Kaizer might be, hm?"

I replied, "The only place I can think of is the Overworld."

Shadowpaw nodded. "Yes. See? You just answered your own question."

I furthered the blade towards his neck. "Just tell me what you're gonna do to help, Shadowpaw. Please..." A hint of pain escaped from my voice.

Shadowpaw sighed. "Perhaps I can conduct a study on The Barrier, figure out how it works, maybe how to get through it. Would that make you happy, Darcia?"

I scoffed, letting the dagger dematerialize into a bloody mist. "I won't be happy until I see Kaizer again. Send an Avian Sylvari when your research is finished. And..." I paused as I turned to leave, my back turned. "Thanks, Shadowpaw." I walked away.

A few months later, I got a letter from an Avian Sylvari sent by Shadowpaw. 

Dear Darcia,

I hope this letter finds you in good health and high spirits. I have devoted considerable time and resources to study The Barrier, seeking a way to breach its defenses. Regrettably, my efforts have proven to be in vain. The nature of the Barrier remains an enigma, resisting all attempts at understanding or manipulation.

I understand the depth of your longing to be reunited with Kaizer, and I empathize with the pain you must be feeling. However, it is my duty to convey that, at least for the present, the means to pierce The Barrier elude us. The mystical forces that govern its existence defy our attempts at comprehension.

Sometimes, in our quest for the unattainable, we must confront the painful reality that acceptance brings a measure of peace. It pains me to say this, but perhaps it is time to consider the possibility that Kaizer's current state may be beyond our influence.

Life is a river that carries us forward, and clinging to the past can be a burden. I implore you to reflect on your own well-being and consider directing your energy towards the possibilities that lie ahead.

If, in the course of my ongoing research, I make any breakthroughs or discoveries related to The Barrier, I shall not hesitate to inform you. Until then, may you find the strength to face the challenges before you.

Sincerely,

Shadowpaw

Upon receiving the news, I gave up all hope. The influence and power of my mother and the Vampire Society seemed insurmountable, and the possibility of seeing Kaizer again grew dim. I went off the grid to the Red Desert, where I slept in a canyon for 500 years, lost in a deep hibernation of depression. Every time I woke up, I went back to sleep instantly. I refused to eat, determined to starve myself to death.

Then one day, I awoke, and something was different. I don't remember ever getting a Curse; it just happened while I was asleep, I guess.

I jolted awake, my heart racing, and an immediate sense of unease settling over me. My fingers instinctively moved to my face, only to encounter a cold, unyielding surface. Panic gripped me as I tried to remove the mysterious mask, its alien presence sending shivers down my spine.

"What... What is this?" I muttered anxiously, fingers probing at the smooth surface that now adorned my face. A sinking feeling of dread enveloped me as I realized the mask was fused to my skin. "No, no, no!" I exclaimed, desperation creeping into my voice. "Get off! What is happening?"

Frantically, I struggled with the unrelenting mask, a silent witness to some inexplicable force that had forever changed the course of my existence. Yet, the mask clung to me incessantly.

I noticed my hair, once vibrant and flowing, now long, messy, and matted with dirt, had turned an eerie shade of white.

My limbs felt like lead, and the pain coursing through my body was a constant reminder of the 500 years of hibernation. With trembling legs, I managed to push myself upright, only to be greeted by a wave of dizziness that threatened to pull me back down.

"Damn it," I muttered through gritted teeth, my voice a strained whisper. Each attempt to move was met with resistance from my weakened body. The realization of my frailty struck hard, and frustration mingled with the pain as I fought to regain my footing.

Barely able to stand, I steadied myself against a nearby rock, panting for breath. The world spun around me, and the pulsing red in my vision added to the disorientation. This was not the return I had envisioned.

"Shadowpaw... I have to find... Shadowpaw..." I murmured, the words slipping from my lips as consciousness waned, and I collapsed once more, succumbing to unconsciousness again.