Prologue
The stench of blood and fire thickened the night air. Bodies—some whole, others torn apart—lay scattered across the burned remnants of a village hidden deep within the forests.
King Aldric Valenhart stood at the center of the massacre, his crimson eyes cold and unreadable. The silver embroidery on his dark cloak shimmered under the pale glow of the moon, a cruel contrast to the carnage beneath his feet.
The Lumiren were gone.
The last of their kind—the ancient, blessed beings who had once walked the earth, had been eradicated by his command.
The blood of the Lumiren was a gift and a curse. It held power beyond comprehension, a secret now buried in the shadows of history. To some, it was said to bring immortality, strength beyond measure. To others, it was a poison capable of obliterating supernatural life.
And in Aldric's kingdom, such power could not be allowed to exist.
"You're certain they're all dead?" Aldric's voice was calm, but his words carried the weight of absolute authority.
A kneeling vampire before him, one of his trusted enforcers—nodded. "Yes, my king. Every last one has been burned. Their blood will never be used against you."
Aldric closed his eyes briefly, as if paying silent tribute to the fallen. Or perhaps ensuring that his own soul remained untouched by guilt.
But guilt was a weakness. And he was not weak.
"Good." He turned, his cloak sweeping behind him as he made his way toward the waiting carriage. "Burn the rest. Erase every trace of their existence."
The enforcer hesitated. "There was… a rumor, my king. Some claimed that one of them escaped before the attack."
Aldric stopped.
A chill ran through the air. The soldiers nearby, battle-hardened and fearless, felt the shift in his aura. A single mistake in the presence of the king could mean death.
The enforcer swallowed hard and quickly added, "But we believe it was false. A desperate lie from the dying."
Aldric slowly turned his head, his gaze settling on the man. A moment passed. Then another.
"Believe?" Aldric finally said, his voice dangerously soft.
The enforcer's breathing turned shallow. "F-Forgive me, my king. There were no survivors."
Aldric held his gaze for a moment longer, then nodded. "Let's hope that is true. For all our sakes."
With that, he stepped into his carriage. The door shut. The horses stirred. And in the next breath, he was gone, leaving nothing behind but a massacre that would be buried by time.
And somewhere, hidden in the shadows of the burning village, a single child lay curled and frozen beneath a silvery lake that has died red from the blood flowing from the lifeless bodies.
Small. Breathing.
Alive.
The last Lumiren had survived.
And fate had only just begun to weave its cruel design.