Zaratugha, the City in the Dark Valley

Three figures stepped away from the solitary island of Mataland—the secluded land that had long been home to Matale da Luna. Now, Zen Felix, Lumina da Lucia, and Rene Sirius Dravenhart had returned to the mainland, entering the thick shadows of Dorsmot Forest, a territory still under the looming threat of Ravnos Strigoi.

"This feels like déjà vu... Just like last year when we first set foot in this cursed forest—and got chased by that damned vampire," Rene muttered, exhaling heavily.

"You were the one being chased. Not me," Felix replied curtly, not even sparing him a glance.

"Seriously? We've barely left the island and you're already treating me like the enemy?" Rene shot back, raising a brow.

Felix didn't respond. He walked ahead, as if the wind were more worthy of his attention than any argument.

Eventually, they arrived at a place heavy with memory—a site stained with blood. This was where Grovenborn, the man who once protected Felix and guided him to Mataland, had died at the hands of Ravnos Strigoi. Felix knelt down, quietly placing a stone atop a soft patch of earth as if marking a silent grave.

"Lumina," he said softly, glancing up at her. "Uncle Grovenborn… he died right here. He fought to his last breath... just to save me."

Lumina lowered her head. A tear slipped down her cheek. "I waited for him to return, you know. But he never did. I was terrified… But seeing you alive, Felix… I know he didn't die in vain. He'd be proud to see how strong you've become."

As sorrow welled up inside Felix, his body began to change—his white hair darkened strand by strand, his skin turned shadowy, and a thick black flame seemed to swirl around him. Grief, still raw, lingered deep in his heart.

When the brief memorial ended, they resumed their journey.

"So... where are we heading next?" Rene asked.

"Zaratugha," Felix answered coldly.

The name struck like lightning. Lumina and Rene exchanged shocked glances.

"What?! You can't be serious!" Rene gasped. "That place is dangerous beyond reason!"

"You really want to go back there?" Lumina asked, skeptical. "You plan to face Ravnos… now?"

"No. I want to find Grovenborn's remains," Felix replied, clenching his gloved hands. "He deserves a proper burial."

"So this is about revenge?" Rene scoffed.

"It's not about revenge," Felix said, eyes fixed on the dark valley in the distance. "It's about justice. About restoring what was taken… and putting things where they belong."

Lumina nodded slowly. "I feel it too. He was my protector… since I was a child. But Felix, are you sure we're strong enough now?"

"Felix, listen…" Rene added. "Ravnos is a monster. We nearly died the last time. I really don't want to set foot in that city again."

"Then just show me the way," Felix said without flinching. "I can go alone. You two can wait someplace safe."

"No." Lumina stepped forward. "I'm coming with you."

Rene groaned internally. Torn between fear and duty, he knew staying behind would haunt him more than facing any creature of the dark.

"Alright, fine. I'll go. But don't expect me to play the hero. I'll keep my distance. That city… gives me chills," he muttered.

"I'm not forcing anyone," Felix replied. "But thank you."

And so, their journey began. Through the dense trees of Dorsmot, over steep hills and treacherous ridges, they pressed on until dusk. At last, they reached a high ledge overlooking the wide valley below—dark, foreboding, like the gaping mouth of a beast.

"Zaratugha," Rene whispered. "The city sits deep in that valley. Even in daylight, the sun barely touches it. The surrounding cliffs cast permanent shadows. It's always dark… always cold."

"That's how they survive," Lumina added. "Vampires weaken in sunlight. But at night—especially under a full moon—they grow ten times stronger. Like all their kind."

"So, what's the plan?" Rene asked. "We just march in?"

"I read something," Felix replied. "About how vampires store the skulls of their enemies in sacred shrines. If we didn't find Grovenborn's remains at the battlefield… they've probably taken him there."

"That's why you dragged us here?" Rene sighed. "Figures. You've read every book in the Vault of Silents this past year."

"And nearly lost his mind doing it," Lumina added with a half-smile. "But he endured. That vault holds everything—the empire's most complete records. All the forgotten truths."

"Well… at least someone here knows what they're doing," Rene shrugged. "I'll take that over blind guessing."

Felix didn't answer. But the fire in his eyes said more than enough.

Zaratugha awaited.

After spending the night on the ridge and waiting for the sun to rise in full glory, the three of them began their descent into the vast valley known as Zaratugha.

With every step down the slope, the landscape of the city became clearer, revealing a sight far from what they expected. The outskirts of Zaratugha looked… peaceful. Ordinary. The vampiric inhabitants—or more precisely, the people of Zaratugha—tilled the fertile lands, herded goats, sheep, and cattle. They worked beneath the towering shadows of massive trees, nestled in the embrace of the valley's hills that shielded them from the direct light of the sun.

"I can't believe this…" Lumina whispered, eyes wide as she took it all in. "They look just like ordinary people."

"Well, they kind of are," Rene replied with a crooked smile. "They even gave me food and shelter when I was on the run."

"What? And you never told us that?" Lumina shot him a half-scolding, half-surprised look.

"This place might look lovely now," Rene said, his voice shifting to something more somber. "But wait until a full moon rises. They'll dance under it—wild, fevered dances that'll send chills down your spine."

"It's their faith," Felix added, his tone flat. "They worship the Moon Goddess."

"You learned all that… from books?" Lumina asked, her brow furrowed.

"Yes. I've read everything I could find. I even picked up some of their language. Still… we'd best avoid standing out."

Despite their unfamiliar faces, the locals didn't seem bothered. A few even offered polite nods, while travelers from other empires wandered the streets as well. It seemed Zaratugha had become a strange kind of sanctuary—welcoming, at least on the surface.

Once inside the heart of the city, they made their way toward Thuga Palace—the lair of Ravnos Strigoi, the shadow ruler of the valley and its dark master.

Felix, who understood the local tongue, caught whispers from the townsfolk: Ravnos was a tyrant, obsessed with power, steeped in dark rituals and blood offerings. But beneath the surface, thanks to Zaratugha's fertile lands, the city prospered—and its citizens rarely questioned what fueled that prosperity.

Their mission was clear: retrieve the skull of Grovenborn, believed to be held in a secret temple behind the palace—where Ravnos kept prisoners captured from faraway lands. Though feared and cruel, Ravnos rarely disturbed outsiders, so long as they didn't cross his forbidden lines.

They moved like phantoms, disabling guards with swift precision. Finally, they reached the Temple of the Moon Goddess—a sacred place steeped in mystery… and death.

The moment they stepped inside, the air grew heavy. Hundreds of skulls lined the stone walls, meticulously arranged beneath a towering statue of the moon deity. The sight was suffocating.

"This... is part of their ritual?" Lumina whispered, barely audible.

Felix slowly shook his head. "This wasn't in the books. This… is something new."

"Then how will we recognize Grovenborn's?" she asked, tension rising.

Felix examined each one carefully. Carved symbols—markings and dates—were crudely etched beneath the base of each skull.

"Here," he said, pointing. "Each one's labeled. The intervals are inconsistent, but I think… they follow the full moons."

"The lunar peak?" Lumina guessed.

"Exactly. Grovenborn died two or three days before the last lunar peak. This one—yes… I'm sure it's his," Felix said, resting his hand gently on the skull marked with the matching date.

With utmost care, they placed it into a small chest they had prepared. But just as they were about to leave, the sound of heavy boots and armored footsteps echoed through the temple halls.

"Now!" Felix hissed, pulling Lumina behind a stone pillar.

The moments that followed were taut with silence. Lumina could feel her heartbeat pounding in her chest. She was painfully aware of how close she was to Felix… and how deeply she had come to care for him.

The guards entered, scanning the temple, unaware of the missing skull. And then… he appeared.

Ravnos Strigoi.

Tall, imposing, wrapped in a robe blacker than night. His fangs protruded like knives, his eyes glinting beneath the hood of darkness. He approached the statue, kneeling in reverence, whispering ancient chants that sent a chill down their spines.

Several of his sons—broad-shouldered and draped in shadowy cloaks—stood around him like silent sentinels.

Suddenly, Ravnos narrowed his eyes.

"Who… dares steal a skull from here?!" he roared, his voice like thunder.

"Lord," one of the guards stammered, "this morning, someone was seen sneaking in through the prison gate behind the palace. He moved like someone who knew the grounds well…"

Smack! Ravnos's hand struck the soldier's face with brutal force, sending him flying. Blood sprayed. The man collapsed—unconscious.

"Search the palace! Every room! That bastard must be the one who escaped a year ago!"

Felix and Lumina remained still, holding their breath until the echo of footsteps finally faded and the temple fell quiet once more.

In the darkness, Lumina turned to Felix. "Felix… why did you insist on recovering Grovenborn's skull? Was it worth risking this much?"

Felix was silent for a long moment. Then, his voice emerged—low, and weighted with meaning.

"Grovenborn saved my life. He once told me… in his village, Bernaum, the greatest honor is to be buried with one's ancestors. Not with riches. Not in marble. But in the earth where your bloodline began. That… that's what it means to belong."

Tears streamed down Lumina's cheeks. She reached out and clasped his hand. Felix… was a soul forged in fire. And yet, it was his love, his loyalty, that burned the brightest.