Bloodlines of the Damned

Threads of the Past

The night of the Full Moon Ceremony has come to a close. The academy is alive with whispers and secrets, but for Lyra, the night is just beginning. She's troubled by fragments of memory, a sense that something important is just out of reach. Vane is still haunted by his own choices, the weight of family loyalty pressing down on him like a stone.

POV: Lyra's perspective

The moon hung high above Noctis Academy, its silvery glow casting an eerie light over the campus. The night had been a blur of ceremonies, rituals, and familiar faces. For the purebloods, it was a night of reaffirmation, of pledging their loyalty to their bloodlines. For Lyra, it was a night of confusion.

She hadn't expected much from the ceremony-after all, it was for the elite, the powerful, the ones who were above her-but something had shifted inside her tonight. A strange pull, an unease that hadn't been there before.

Standing on the edge of the courtyard, Lyra pulled her shawl tighter around her shoulders, the crisp night air biting at her skin. Her eyes wandered to the building where the ceremony had taken place, the grand hall now dim and quiet.

Her thoughts kept drifting back to Vane, to their conversation the day before. The things he'd said... they didn't fit with what she knew of him, and the connection between them felt almost tangible now, as if they had crossed paths before.

But where?

She couldn't shake the feeling that she had known him longer than just their time at Noctis. Had she?

A sudden voice broke her thoughts.

"Still out here?"

Lyra turned, startled, to find Vane standing a few feet away, leaning against a stone pillar. His posture was relaxed, but there was something in his eyes-something restless. The usual coldness had faded, replaced by a more conflicted look. She hadn't expected him to be the one to find her.

"Vane," she said, surprised to see him out here. "Shouldn't you be with your family, celebrating?"

His lips curled into a small, dry smile. "I don't feel much like celebrating tonight." His gaze lingered on her for a moment, his expression shifting. "I thought I might find you out here."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "What, like you're following me now?"

Vane didn't respond at first, his eyes scanning her face as if weighing something he wasn't sure he should say. The silence between them stretched before he finally spoke again, his voice low.

"You don't remember, do you?"

Lyra blinked, confused. "What are you talking about?"

He stepped closer, closing the distance between them. His eyes flickered with something deeper than she'd ever seen before-something raw, almost... vulnerable. "When we were younger," he began softly, "you were the one who... helped me. When no one else would." His voice trailed off, and for a moment, he looked almost lost. "You don't remember it, do you?"

Lyra felt her chest tighten at his words. "What are you saying, Vane?" she asked, her voice quieter than she intended.

He hesitated, his eyes searching hers, trying to gauge if she understood. He seemed to be struggling with himself, torn between what was expected of him and what he truly felt. "You were the only one who ever saw me for what I was," he said, almost whispering. "Not the heir to House Erebus, not some powerful pureblood. Just... me."

Lyra stared at him, her heart pounding in her chest. Her thoughts were racing, trying to make sense of what he was saying. Had she really helped him?

Suddenly, a flood of fragmented memories surged into her mind-brief flashes of a young boy, a lonely figure standing by a fountain, looking out at the dark trees. She saw herself, then, a child with a hand outstretched, comforting him, speaking softly to him when no one else would. But it was all so blurry.

"You-you're saying I helped you when we were younger?" she whispered, struggling to connect the dots.

Vane's gaze softened, though there was still a hint of sadness in his eyes. "Yes," he said quietly. "But you don't remember it. Not anymore."

Lyra took a step back, her mind spinning. The memories didn't make sense, yet the emotions tied to them felt so real. Why couldn't she remember?

"Why can't I remember?" she asked, her voice rising slightly with frustration. "Why can't I remember helping you? Why is everything so... blurry?"

Vane's expression darkened, his jaw tightening. "It's because of them," he said, his voice suddenly hard, filled with an edge of anger. "My family. House Erebus. They've erased your memories. They've made sure you forget."

Lyra froze, her eyes widening in shock. "What?"

Vane nodded grimly. "It's a part of their power, a way of keeping control. They've done it before-to others, too. People they want to forget something, or someone. They've made sure you don't remember how you helped me. How you were the only one who ever saw past my title." His voice softened again, a hint of regret in it. "But I remember. And I never forgot."

Lyra's mind was reeling, the implications of what Vane was saying slowly sinking in. She had always known there was something off about her past-something missing. But to hear him say it so plainly... the realization hit her like a punch in the gut.

"You've been following me all this time?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly, though she tried to keep her composure. "Watching me?"

Vane's eyes softened, and for the first time, she saw something like guilt flicker in his gaze. "Not following," he corrected quietly. "Just... watching over you. I never meant for you to remember. I didn't want to drag you into my world. But it's getting harder to stay away, Lyra. I can't just ignore you anymore."

Lyra swallowed hard, her heart pounding in her chest. She wanted to scream, to demand answers, but all she could manage was a quiet, "Why?"

"Because I owe you," Vane said simply, his gaze steady. "And because... I care about you."

POV: Vane's perspective

Vane watched Lyra's face as she processed everything he had just told her. He could see the shock in her eyes, the confusion, the disbelief. It was almost unbearable to watch her try to piece together a past she had no memory of.

He never wanted this for her-never wanted to drag her into his world of political games, of power and control, of family duty. But there had always been something about Lyra. The way she had been the first and only person to ever see through his cold exterior as a child. The way she had cared when no one else would.

And I never stopped caring, he thought.

But what could he do now? The ceremony had come and gone, his place in House Erebus was secure, and there was no turning back. His father would never allow him to leave the family. Not when he was the heir, not when his bloodline was the key to the family's survival.

But Lyra...

He couldn't let her go. Not after everything they had been through-everything he remembered.