The air was crisp as Lumina made her way to the Remus estate; the leaves crunched beneath her boots, and frost sparkled on the grass. The walk, once familiar and calming, now felt heavier. Something had changed. People stared longer when she passed... and looked away faster when she met their eyes.
Still, she needed to work.
She clutched her satchel tighter. Without this job, how would she afford food? Herbs? Rent?
The guard at the gates didn't smile this time. He opened the gate without a word.
As she entered the grand hall, her footsteps echoed on the polished stone. She adjusted her braid and smoothed her dress. The children would be waiting... maybe they missed her. Maybe today would feel normal.
But voices drifted from the receiving room.
She slowed her steps, glancing toward the archway. Lord Remus stood inside, shoulders stiff; across from him stood a tall man dressed in black, his back straight, his voice smooth and calm. Something about him made the air feel colder. Lumina couldn't see his face but she felt his presence... strong, quiet, dangerous.
She tried to slip past quietly.
But Lord Remus saw her.
He stepped into the hall, his expression firm. "Miss Lumina."
She turned quickly. "Good morning, my lord. I've come to begin lessons—"
"You won't be teaching here anymore."
She blinked. "I... I don't understand."
Remus sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Some men came asking about you. Noble types. Quite... strange. I won't risk trouble in this household."
Her throat went dry. "I don't even know who they were..."
"That's the problem," he said. "I've already arranged a replacement. You'll receive your last payment by tomorrow."
"My lord, please... I rely on this job. I don't have family. This is all I have—"
Remus raised a hand. "I'm sorry. But you shouldn't return."
He turned without another word.
Behind him, the man in black had turned slightly. Lumina met his eyes for just a second. They were dark intense. Something flickered across his face... recognition? Or curiosity?
She left before she could say anything foolish.
---
Damien remained silent as the girl walked away.
There was something strange about her. Her presence stirred something old in his memory... a flicker of fire, a soft voice calling his name. She looked like a dream he'd had too many times to count.
"She worked here?" he asked without turning.
"Yes," Remus said. "Not anymore."
"She seemed... harmless."
Remus hesitated. "That's what worries me."
Damien gave no reply. But his thoughts stayed with her long after she was gone.
---
Lumina's door hung crooked when she got home.
She dropped her satchel and rushed inside. Her table was overturned; her shelves emptied. Someone had smashed her lantern. Books lay ripped on the floor... pages soaked from the broken water jug. Her blanket had been torn and tossed near the fireplace.
She stood frozen in the doorway, barely breathing.
On the wall, written in dark, smeared ash—
was a single word:
**WITCH.**
Her legs gave out. She sat on the floor, stunned. Who would do this? Why?
She curled up in the corner with the shredded blanket, knees drawn to her chest. The room was cold; the silence hurt. Outside, someone walked by and spit near her door. She didn't even flinch.
She didn't cry at first. Not until night came.
Then... she couldn't stop.
The tears came quiet and slow. Her chest ached from holding it all in.
And when sleep came, it brought no peace.
Her dreams were thick with smoke and fire. A voice; her mother's voice, whispered again and again:
**"Survive... no matter what... survive."**
---
At the royal table, the candles flickered gently, casting soft light over silver goblets and dark plates. King Alucard sat at the head, regal and tired. He chewed slowly, barely tasting the food.
Calypso, dressed in deep crimson, looked across the table with her usual thin smile. "Your son is moody again, dear," she said, voice light.
"I'm right here," Damien replied.
"Exactly."
King Alucard sighed loudly. "Must we do this every night?"
"It's tradition," Damien said, smiling faintly.
Calypso sipped her wine. "You're lucky I have a sense of humor."
Damien leaned back in his chair. "And you're lucky I don't lose my temper."
Her smile faltered.
Across the table, Prince Stefan chuckled awkwardly. Drusilla looked bored, tapping her fork against her plate.
Even without raising his voice, Damien's presence filled the room. Servants moved carefully around him; none dared interrupt. His father didn't scold him, nor praise him; only watched him with tired eyes... as if knowing his son already ruled without wearing a crown.
---
The next morning, Damien rode to Hollowmere.
The guards at the magistrate's gate bowed quickly when they saw him. Inside, the staff moved in silence. The heavy oak doors opened without being knocked.
**Lord Aldric Ravenshade** stood by the hearth when Damien entered.
"My prince," Aldric said, bowing low. His voice was calm... but his hands trembled slightly when he offered wine.
Damien didn't take it.
"I want to know what you've heard," he said.
Aldric straightened, clearing his throat. "There have been... sightings. Symbols burned into trees. Animals vanishing. Villagers reporting strange dreams."
"Witches?"
Aldric nodded. "And something more. A girl. White hair. Pale eyes. She shows up right before things go wrong."
Damien's jaw tensed. "What kind of things?"
"Crops dying overnight. Storms that hit only one house. People and animals vanishing without a sound."
Damien stepped closer. The firelight caught the edge of his face, casting sharp shadows.
"I saw her," he said quietly. "She doesn't know what she is."
Aldric hesitated. "Then I suggest you find her, my prince... before someone else does."
Damien nodded once. "I intend to."
The air in the room shifted. Even Aldric, a powerful man in his own right, stood straighter under Damien's gaze.
No one dared question him—not here.
---
Back in Ebonmere, Lumina hadn't moved from her room.
The village had grown colder. Talia no longer waved. The apothecary closed the door when she walked past. Even the children she used to teach avoided her now…. eyes wide with fear.
Her fingers traced the faint glow beneath her wrist. It was warmer today. Alive.
She had no idea what she was becoming.
But she knew the world had started to see it too.
She lit a single candle and whispered softly, "Please... don't let this be the end."
Outside, the wind howled louder.
As if answering back.
---