Shifting Fates: Veil of the Forgotten

Ch. 6

“Deception”

“A bat?” His voice, smooth and laced with amusement, as he smirks. He circles the base of the tree. His cape trailing behind him like a fiery leaf floating in the late-season air. My eyes are drawn to its motion, unable to look away. Why can’t I stop staring? Focus.

“A curious bat at that.” He pauses, his gaze is sharp as studies me, his brows pulling together in mild curiosity. “Bats are usually elusive. But, you followed…” His eyes narrow slightly as they catch the moonlight. His start is unwavering, studying me with precision.

I don’t respond, my wings twitch, the leathery membrane catching the cool night air. The weight of his gaze presses against me, unsettling. I’ve fought worse, yet something about him makes me hesitate. I know predators when I see them. I am one, after all — marked by them in ways most can’t see, ways I’m not sure I want to remember.

“You’re different,” the man murmurs, almost as if speaking to himself. “I can feel it…I can smell it, something bitter, something odd.” His fingers brush the tree bark, slow and deliberate, tracing the patterns I can’t see. “Quite the puzzle.”

His shadows stretch out, slithering along the ground, creeping. They wrap around the roots, twisting, waiting. A chill runs down my spine, and fear bubbles up. His words cling to me like his shadows do to him. The world feels smaller, my breath catches as I glance around, the night closing in.

You are the form. Mother would scream. Again, and again.

“I hold a deep admiration for bats, and you are a particularly fascinating one.” His gaze hones, a sense of craving hunger in his eyes. He tilts his head, shadows stretching unnaturally. A ripple of dark magic vibrates through the air, the shadows almost… warm as they climb up the tree. “Most intriguing. You’re not afraid. Or maybe you are, but not in the way I expected.”

I resist the urge to flee, remaining locked in place. My body knows this feeling — the tension, the weight pressing down on me, the way my muscles scream to move — but I fight it, just like I have done before. I have trained for this, and endured far worse. My mind can’t piece it together, the memories slipping through my grasp like water, but the sensations linger. The sting of old scars, the ache in my bones, the phantom pain of a body pushed too far.

But this — this feels different. It is not just the threat of violence, it is deeper, like I am teetering on the edge of something I can’t quite understand. A chasm between who I am and something darker, more dangerous, waiting in the depths. Something that was once inflicted on me…now it stirs within me.

The man’s cerulean eyes glint with amusement, the moonlight catching the sharp angles of his face. “You’ve got fight in you. Don’t you?” His voice lowers, dangerously soft. “What else you’re hiding?” He leans toward the tree, looking up at me with a tilted head, as shadows snap around him. “Tempting bites, bats are — I wonder how you’d taste.” His smirk widens, revealing white fangs shining in the moonlight.

A vampire.

Something deep within stirs, claws scratching at the edge of my mental door. NO.

This can’t be happening. I have never come across one in person, but then again, it is hard to find anything interesting while being trapped in a castle. But a vampire? You’ve got to be kidding me.

I fought and preyed on countless creatures, all because of Mother’s demands. But, I have never faced a vampire or something that can control shadows, and bend them to its will. The vampire commands the darkness itself, and it seems to pulse with life, closing in from every direction.

The shine of his fangs pierces through the fog of my fragmented memories, sparking something deeper within. I recall echoes of muted whispers, Mother’s warnings about the dangers lurking beyond the castle walls. I overheard her during one of her council meetings — another I wasn’t supposed to be snooping in on, although I wasn’t allowed anywhere near the chambers when the council met. It doesn’t concern you. Mother would say. Nothing was my concern unless it involved being quiet, submissive, or staying in the confines of my part of the castle — like the pretty decoration I am.

Yet, during this said, not meant to be heard, meeting, I heard talk of a vampiric clan rumored to be within the Endless Forest. The scouts — two, to be precise — told firsthand tales of vampires, but none were particularly captivating. Aside from being some kind of immortal, and bloodthirsty, other details were scarce. The Grand Library held a few vague references to vampires, but none of them matched what I am witnessing now. This man, this creature, appears so human, so profound, yet he possesses a potent allure — powerful, intriguing, and watchful.

My curiosity has once again gotten the best of me. Every muscle in this form tenses, held in a vice and ready to spring. The tension in my body is a clear reflection of all the dismay inside me — it feels like it is at its tipping point. My instinct to flee from danger pulses through every inch of me, but I can’t move, as though I am paralyzed. I see the darkness, the shadows just a heartbeat away. Another claw scrapes at the door of my mind, beckoning me to remember, to confront whatever fears I have buried.

We continued to observe each other for what felt like an eternity, neither of us separating our stares. I notice the vampire’s body go taut for a moment as the darkness brushes against my wings. It was as if the darkness needed to touch the creature that wasn’t fleeing, even though everything inside me was screaming and digging at me to bolt — never to look back.

But I remain, observing and studying the creature before me, just as he is me. It is as if we both need to understand why everything else runs in fear or disregards us, but not us — a vampire and a bat, or perhaps, not truly a bat. How ironic.

From my high perch, I can see the man fully, the way his cerulean eyes scan with the shadows, their sharpness revealing an unsettling intelligence. His head flicks suddenly, as if catching a whisper of something on the breeze, and I sense his curiosity sharpen. It is in the way he moves around the tree, fluid and deliberate, as he continues to brush his fingers along the tree trunk — a gesture that seems to tempt the shadows to dance closer, intertwining with him like old friends.

There is an intensity in his gaze that makes my skin prickle, as if is piecing together a puzzle, trying to grasp why I remain here instead of fleeing… I also am trying to figure that out. The air is heavy with a potent mixture of the man’s scent — dark earth, old secrets, mint, and something distinctly magnetic. It pulls at the edges of my lost mind, raising fragments of memories that feel too far away.

The man’s nostrils flare, catching the faintest hint of my presence, and I wonder if he recognizes the primal essence that lingers within me, perhaps even sensing the beast I harbor. For a brief moment, our eyes lock in place, and it feels as if the world around us fades away, leaving only a raw, unknown connection between a vampire and a creature that isn’t entirely what it seems. In the silence, a question hangs heavily in the air… What truths lie beneath our surfaces?

The shadows break the moment, brushing my wings. “Keep your shadows to yourself.” I snap. His darkness, his shadows are too close, too intimate. Not just his shadows, but him.

My cold body flinches at the warmth of the dark shadows that reached for me, that touched me without my permission. The darkness — his darkness — is strangely warm. Am I really that cold? Is the ice in my veins moving toward the surface of my skin? Too close, too intimate. Not just the shadows — him.

My heart pounds against my chest, so hard it feels like it might break free. Claws tap impatiently along the door of my mind. The shadows of the vampire’s darkness dance around me, swarming — like hungry wolves circling their next meal until they can touch me again. I watch the vampire’s expression switch from confusion to fascination.

The man raises an eyebrow, his grin widening at my outburst. “Ah, so it speaks. And it has a temper, too. Interesting.” His eyes narrow slightly, studying me with renewed intensity. “Your heart is so loud, but I can still hear you.” He tilts his head to the side. “I wonder what else you have hidden beneath the skin.

There is something about the way his eyes study me. Something unsettling about his tone, the way he talks — is not like a threat, but like he is deciphering a riddle. Perhaps he catches the delicate hint of my presence, my powers, or perhaps he senses the beast I harbor. The world seems to fade around us, leaving only the raw connection between a vampire and a creature that isn’t entirely what it seems. In the silence, a question hangs. What truths lie beneath our surface?

“I am capable of much more than you realize,” I say in a matter-of-fact tone. My teeth grit together and my wings twitch in frustration.

Why am I even talking? Shut up, but don’t. I need to remember to be fearless, or at least look that way. Even though my insides feel like they’re about to crawl out of my throat. Thank Goddess Nyx, I didn’t eat that stupid moth — I’d probably have lost it all over this sapling, which would be ten times worse than eating those six legs in the first place.

I’ve faced many creatures, but this one is different. This man, this vampire, is different. I feel as if every part of me is exposed, ready to be shredded apart until I’m nothing more than a meaty huck. The moon’s beam is completely gone, as if we are the only things left in the darkness that has consumed everything, leaving just us — me — bare and vulnerable.

“Oh, I believe I am putting that together.” He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, his heavy boots digging into the earth.

He is planning something, and before I can even finish the thought, darkness grabs me. Warmth closes in around my body. Warmth that is suffocating against the cold that pumps through my veins. My wings flare, and with a sudden burst of fire, I scorch the leaves nearby. My power untamely flying from the tips of my wings. The flames dance briefly before fizzling out.

The vampire watches the display with a head tilt, unfazed, and that grin on his face grows. “Hmm. So you can control fire too. I wonder what else you have hidden beneath that skin.”

Fucking Nyx. I curse, and the words echo in my mind.

My legs buckle as the force of the fire sends me off balance from the branch. I falling — launched forward, the burst propelling me past his shadows. I am unable to unfurl my wings as my body trembles before crashing into the ground, scattering dead, decaying leaves in my wake. The wind is knocked from my lungs as I bounce, sliding to a stop.

A feral pulse surges through me, icy veins fueling something primal and untamed. I force myself to move, struggling to steady my shaking limbs, to focus, to think. I have to stay in control. The door must stay locked. I can’t let it out — not now. Not here.

I left the castle walls to figure out what was happening to me, but now, I feel it fully slipping. The very thing I have been hiding — what I have been desperately trying to keep buried — is clawing past my consciousness.

I charge upward, leaves scattering the leaves once more than I push through them, my wings slicing the air with a satisfying whoosh. But I can’t gain even a few feet before the vampire is already above me. He moves so fast.

The vampire seizes me with his hand, moving so rapidly that the leaves continue to swirl in the air, suspended before they fall with my heart, sinking to my stomach. His grip is firm, but not crushing, the shadows move around us like a protective cloak from the surrounding forest. But I am not breakable or in need of saving. I feel the claws in my mind pounding on the door of my recognition.

“What a turn of events. I must admit, I do prefer this encounter, although I still needed to talk to her,” the vampire man says, motioning toward the direction that Muma Padurii had fled. “She faded back into the forest when she saw you,” he murmurs. “The mother of the forest… afraid to be around you. Why is that?” His grip tightens slightly, as if testing my resolve. “Who, better yet, what are you real?”

Stop analyzing me. Stop it. The words ricochet around in my head, louder with each passing second. My skin prickles under his gaze, the weight of his eyes crawling over me like daggers. I hate it. I hate being studied — picked apart — like I am some puzzle he thinks he can solve. It reminds me too much of…

I swallow hard, but the dread only rises. My breath quickens, and my body tenses as the fear begins to gnaw at my insides. I can feel it coming — the familiar cold panic, the sense that I am slipping out of control. It is everything. The shadows closing in around us, his smirk, the pull of power inside me, growing stronger, darker, more volatile with each breath.

You can’t control it. You never could. The thought crawls out from a dark corner of my mind, unwelcomed, as if it has been lurking and waiting there all along.

And then, the memory crashes into me.

—

The air was cold — colder than it should have been for summer. I remember that day. I was so young. The frost on the windows, the way my breath hung in the air, turned to mist. I hadn’t meant for it to happen.

I had been playing with Oana in the courtyard outside the Grand Library window, laughing and chasing her around. It has started as a game. But then something shifted. I felt it, a surge deep inside, like ice crawling up my spine, spreading through my veins. The laughter died on my lips, and I stumbled, feeling the temperature plummet.

Oana had turned to me, confused. “Mihaela? What’s wrong?”

I saw it before I felt it — jagged, sharp crystals of frost exploding from my hands, racing toward her. I screamed, trying to stop it, trying to pull it back, but it was too late. The ice cut through the air like knives. I remember the terror in Oana’s eyes as it struck her, freezing her feet to the ground, her legs, her arms — until she was trapped in a cocoon of ice.

I was horrified, frozen in place, watching her struggle, watching the frost spread up her body.

Before I could do anything, Mother appeared. She grabbed me and yanked me away from the scene. I remember her face, cold and severe, but her mauve eyes were burning. “You have to have to be locked away for a while. I’ll call for the wizards. You’re too dangerous,” she said, voice tight, controlled, but I could hear an edge of fear behind it. Not for me. For everyone else.

As she dragged me away, I heard it. Faint. Oana’s voice. “Mihaela… it’s fine. I’m fine.”

I wanted to turn back, to look. To make sure. But Mother’s grip was stoned, and she wouldn’t let me, but I pulled against her until the last thing I saw was Oana, standing in that frozen cage, still blinking, still breathing.

The wards became my world. They smothered my powers into a small space, trapping me inside where everything was muted, where I could hurt no one. Days turned into weeks, into months — time blended together in that froze loneliness. I was left alone with the weight of what I had done… of what I could do. The ice, the cold, once innocent as snowflakes, now was a constant reminder of the monster I could become.

Then when the buzzing of the wards turned to a quiet hum. They came. They started coming every time I hurt someone, when I destroyed something, when my powers waved too far out of my control. I remember the way they would circle me, their eyes cold and detached, whispering spells under their breath, trying to “fix” me. They studied me like I was some sort of experiment, as I wasn’t even a person anymore — just a source of chaos. They never said it outright, but I knew. I could see it in their eyes. I was dangerous. Broken.

It wasn’t all bad, or at least what I remember before my mind fractured into pieces. Sometimes, they would help me. I remember when one of them, one wizard, taught me how to control the wind instead of the lawless ice within me. That had been one of the good times — when it felt like maybe I wasn’t a monster after all. But those moments move with the fragmented current that flows through my mind. Most of the time, they looked at me, with those watchful eyes, with fear, with suspicion. Like I was something unnatural.

I hated it. Hated the way they made me feel. Helpless. Unworthy. Like I wasn’t in control of my own body, my own fate.

And now, here I am again, feeling the same cold dread rising. The vampire’s eyes on me, like he is studying, waiting, seeing what I’ll do next. I hate him for it. I hate that I am being pushed to the edge, my power twisting inside me, threatening to spill out. I am terrified of what might happen if I lose control again.

They’ll see you for what you are, a voice, my voice, whispers in my skull. You’re a monster.

No, I am not. I won’t let it happen again. I won’t let them see. That is why I left.

Suddenly, his grip slackens — just for a moment — but it is enough to pull me out of my own head. I blink, focusing on him. His jaw ticks, and I notice the tight line of his mouth, and the narrowing of his eyes. A gleam of realization flashes in his gaze, as if piecing something together, like he knows something.

But, I don’t move. I don’t pull away.

I should. His grip is loose enough that I could slip free, maybe run, but I don’t. I stay rooted in place, my eyes locking onto his. I don’t know why, but I can’t move. It is like some invisible tether keeps me there, drawn to him just as much as he seems drawn to me.

The vampire’s expression shifts — subtle, but there. Curiosity still lingers in the way he looks at me, but something else has crept in. Concern? Doubt? His brows furrow for the briefest of moments before his usual smirk returns, as if he is forcing the mask back into place. But I saw it — just for a moment. The hesitation. The worry.

His stare bores into me, more intense now, as if sensing the turmoil roiling beneath my skin. With his free hand, he reaches out slowly, touching the satchel at my side. His fingers brush against the leather strap, both casual and probing, and the air thickens as the shadows move frantically.

“Tell me,” he says, his voice a love, velvety hum. “What is going on in that mind of yours, little bat?”

The question hangs between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. His gaze flickers with something I can’t quite read, something dangerous, but familiar. I can feel it too — the pull, the strange magnetism between us. And it is terrifying.

A shiver races down my spine, a whisper of realization buried deep within me, urging me to flee even as my heart yearns to stay. What dark truth lies hidden within him? I have no answers, only a growing sense of dread that this moment could unravel everything I have fought to control.