Bloodlines: A Vampire’s Legacy

The night was still, but Lucian's mind was anything but. The memory of the silver-haired woman's touch still burned inside his skull, her words echoing in his thoughts.

"I hope, for your sake, it was the right one."

He clenched his fists as he followed Viktor down the empty streets. The city was quiet here, away from the flashing lights and human distractions. The only sound was the distant hum of traffic and the occasional rustling of the wind through the alleys.

"We need answers," Lucian muttered, breaking the silence.

Viktor didn't slow down. "And we'll get them. But not here."

Lucian narrowed his eyes. "Where are we going?"

Viktor glanced back at him. "To someone who knows more about the Council than I do."

Lucian frowned. "I thought you knew everything."

Viktor chuckled. "Hardly. But I know someone who has spent centuries digging up secrets."

Lucian's unease grew. He didn't like the idea of seeking help from strangers. But after what had happened tonight, he had little choice.

They moved swiftly, their presence blending into the shadows as they crossed the city unnoticed. Lucian could feel Viktor's tension, even though his expression remained neutral. The older vampire was wary, and that put Lucian on edge.

Finally, they stopped in front of a decrepit bookstore, its windows coated in dust. The wooden sign above the entrance was so worn that the name had faded beyond recognition.

"This is it?" Lucian asked, doubtful.

Viktor simply knocked three times.

For a long moment, nothing happened. Then, with a creak, the door opened just enough for a single eye to peer out.

The eye was old, yet sharp, like it had seen more than it cared to remember. "I told you not to come back here, Viktor."

Viktor smirked. "And yet, here I am."

The door remained half-open. "You must enjoy pushing your luck."

"I enjoy getting answers," Viktor countered. "And we both know you have them."

There was a pause before the door creaked open further, revealing a hunched figure wrapped in layers of tattered clothing. Despite his frail appearance, there was an undeniable presence about him.

His eyes landed on Lucian, scanning him with unsettling intensity. "So this is the one."

Lucian tensed. "You know me?"

The old man chuckled, stepping aside to let them in. "I know what you are."

Lucian exchanged a wary glance with Viktor before stepping inside.

The air was thick with dust and the scent of old parchment. Books lined the walls, some stacked so high they threatened to topple over. Strange artifacts sat on shelves, their origins unknown.

The old man shut the door behind them, locking it with a series of heavy bolts.

"Sit," he gestured to a worn-out couch in the corner.

Lucian hesitated but obeyed. Viktor leaned against the bookshelf, arms crossed.

The old man took a seat across from them, his piercing gaze never leaving Lucian.

"You want answers," he said. "But you won't like them."

Lucian exhaled sharply. "I don't care. I need to know why the Council is after me. Why the hunters won't stop. Why that woman said my blood calls to something greater."

The old man nodded slowly. "Then listen well, boy."

He leaned forward, his voice dropping to a whisper.

"Because your blood doesn't just belong to a vampire. It belongs to something far older… something that should have never existed."

Lucian felt his stomach tighten. The old man's words echoed in his mind.

"Your blood doesn't just belong to a vampire. It belongs to something far older… something that should have never existed."

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening. "What do you mean?"

The old man sighed, his wrinkled fingers tapping against the armrest of his chair. "There have always been creatures that lurk in the dark, beings that existed before the world understood what vampires were. Some say they were the first, the true rulers of the night. But they vanished—hunted, erased, or perhaps… hiding." His sharp gaze locked onto Lucian. "And yet, here you are."

Lucian swallowed hard. "I don't understand. I was turned like any other vampire."

The old man shook his head. "No. Your transformation awoke something buried deep inside you. Something that was already there."

Lucian's chest tightened. He had felt different from the beginning, but he had always assumed it was just the struggle of adjusting to his new existence.

Viktor, who had been silent, finally spoke. "What exactly are you saying?"

The old man leaned back, exhaling through his nose. "The Council fears him. Not just because he is strong, but because he is unknown. And in our world, the unknown is dangerous."

Lucian exhaled, trying to steady his thoughts. "If I am something different… then what am I?"

The old man studied him for a moment before standing. He walked over to one of the many bookshelves and carefully pulled out a thick, worn leather-bound book. He returned to his seat, flipping through the brittle pages before stopping on an illustration.

Lucian leaned in, his breath catching at the sight. The page depicted a monstrous figure, draped in shadows, its eyes glowing like molten gold. Its fangs were longer than any vampire's, its presence almost otherworldly.

"The Noctis," the old man murmured.

Lucian's throat went dry. "I've never heard that name before."

"Few have," the old man said. "Because their existence was erased from history. They were not just vampires. They were something more—something between a vampire and something far older. Some say they had power over darkness itself, bending it to their will. Others claim they were the first true immortals, unkillable by any means known to man or monster."

Viktor scoffed. "That sounds like a myth."

The old man glanced at him. "And yet, the hunters are not chasing myths, are they?"

Lucian's pulse quickened. "Are you saying… I'm one of them?"

The old man closed the book. "I'm saying your blood carries something that should not exist. And that is why the Council wants you dead."

Lucian's hands trembled as he processed the words. He had spent his whole life feeling out of place, even before he was turned. Was this the answer? Was this the reason he had always felt different?

Viktor's gaze was unreadable. "If that's true, then we're in more danger than we thought."

The old man nodded. "The Council does not fear power—they fear what they cannot control. And if they believe Lucian is something beyond their reach, they will not stop until he is eliminated."

Lucian's mind raced. Every encounter, every hunt, every near-death experience—it all made sense now. They weren't just chasing him because he was a vampire. They were chasing him because he was something else.

He stood abruptly, pacing the room. "Then what do I do? How do I fight something that wants me dead just for existing?"

The old man watched him carefully. "You must understand what you are. Learn to control it before they decide to strike with full force."

Viktor nodded. "We need to prepare. If what he says is true, the Council won't just send hunters next time. They'll send something worse."

Lucian ran a hand through his hair, frustration bubbling inside him. He wanted to reject all of this, to call it nonsense—but deep down, he knew it wasn't. He felt it.

The old man reached into his coat and pulled out a small vial filled with dark liquid. "This might help you start."

Lucian frowned, taking the vial. "What is it?"

The old man's lips curled into a small, knowing smile. "A key to unlocking what's inside you."

Lucian hesitated, staring at the dark substance swirling inside the glass.

Was he ready for this?

He had no choice.

He clenched the vial in his fist. "Then let's begin."