The pristine snow dropped in fine flakes. The dark night was radiated by the light of the stars. Varying planets could be seen- some appearing much larger than the moon of Draven’s previous world. Draven’s sword cut through the icy wind. Despite the perpetually gloomy atmosphere, Draven had found solace in the swordsmanship he had learned from Garm.

“Incredible…” Garm observed with his hand on his chin. It had only been a couple of weeks, and Draven had far surpassed Jarrett’s swordplay. Draven turned his sullen gaze toward Garm. Despite the refuge he found in training, as soon as the set was over, he felt the weight of recent events.

“Well, Garm? How would I compare to the Vampyre head?”

Garm’s eyes widened. Draven had expected such a reaction. However, Garm bowed.

“Eh? What’s the matter?”

Suddenly, Draven had remembered a trivial fact from the story. Garm is an excessively prideful man, contracted to serve a man of the Night family. That person is the only one that Garm would ever bow his head to.

“The Vampyre Head?” The voice came from behind Draven. He quickly spun around in shock. ‘I didn’t sense him at all…’ An old, shrunken man stared at Draven. His deep, crimson eyes gave Draven the feeling of having his mind read.

“Gah… Don’t sneak up on me, old man.”

“Who are you calling old? I came to see my Grandson that has been causing so much chaos in the mansion lately.”

Draven winced. He had been expecting his grandfather to show up eventually, but he had hoped that he would not come into contact with him so quickly. ‘This old man is as crafty as they come… I must be careful about what I say.’

“You would have your head severed from your torso within 5 seconds.” The old man tugged his white beard as he spoke, answering Draven’s initial question. Draven had only asked in whim, as he was well aware that the Vampyre head was one of the most powerful beings on the continent, but the old man had given him a serious response.

“Draven, I’ve been told that you have discovered an affinity for Chaos Sorcery. Is this true?”

Draven knew that there was no point in trying to hide it. He had lost his self-control and already used Blink in front of the family.

“So what if I have? Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Occasionally, Draven surprised even himself at how innately disrespectful and haughty he had become. These words always came as an impulsive response, developed through years of Draven’s despicable personality.

“Heed my words, child. Do not use that sorcery.”

Draven cut his eyes toward the old man. He looked down unto him with some poorly hidden level of hostility.

“I’ve seen what happens to those that use it, boy. Hell couldn’t even begin to describe the suffering.”

The old man returned to the mansion after saying his piece. He rarely appeared in front of family members in recent years, and he was clearly not a social creature. Draven stared at the stars, before whispering under his breath.

“It’s much too late for that…”

.

.

.

“Enough! You can’t keep doing this!”

An old, grey man hollered in anger. His wrinkled face was pale despite the dim lighting.

“Oh, what’s this?”

A feminine voice cut the air.

“Is the Great Elder Alaric finally standing his ground?”

“Foolish woman! I took you in as a favor, and this is how you repay me?!”

The woman rolled over on her stone bed. She covered her mouth as she yawned. Alaric continued.

“If you keep overfeeding like this, the Night Guard will ambush us! Or worse, we’ll incur the wrath of the Vampyre family…”

“Coward.”

The woman’s eyes were bored. She casually bit into the wrist of a limp, lifeless body. She spat the blood out in disgust.

“Bleh… Blood’s just not the same unless it’s fresh.”

She stood and walked toward the exit of the vast cave.

“What?!”

Alaric grabbed the shoulder of the woman. They stood, shoulder to shoulder, with her facing the light at the exit.

“I won’t let you kill a single more. It’ll be death for both of us.”

A figure blocked some of the light at the entrance of the cave. The slender glutton, who had ignored Alaric’s comment as she was trying to discern the person, did not recognize her. Of course, she almost never recognized anyone any more.

“I see. So, it was not Alaric that had been overfeeding, but you?”

Alaric’s face dropped. He turned to see the black-haired, red-eyed woman. Her cloak spelled her identity out for him.

“Your Majesty!” Alaric fell to one knee. This was the exact outcome that he had feared the most. The woman had attracted the attention of the Vampyre Family. Sweat dripped down his forehead.

“Who is this, Alaric?” The woman descended the cave gracefully. Lavishly clothed from head to toe, even her walk radiated royalty. The blue-haired woman, who had still not taken a knee, was clearly lacking discipline- or knowledge of the woman’s identity. Alaric hurriedly answered.

“Your Majesty, I was commanded to take this woman under my wing and teach her how to survive in this world as a vampire… I swear to you that I have done nothing wrong!”