Bloodlines of the Damned

Shadows in the Dark

Lyra's Perspective

It was the little things that kept Lyra going—the smell of coffee, the feel of the cold air on her skin, the sound of Kaia's laughter. But no matter how hard she tried to focus on the present, there was always that gnawing emptiness inside of her, a constant ache that nothing seemed to fill.

Every time she looked out the window of the café, every time she walked through the quiet hallways of Valerian Academy, her thoughts inevitably drifted to Vane.

She couldn't stop thinking about him. Couldn't stop worrying about the Dark Forest.

What if he's in danger? The question replayed itself again and again, no matter how much she tried to shut it out. She had to believe in him. She had to trust that he could handle it. But a small, fearful part of her whispered the opposite—that the forest would change him, that it would break him.

As she sipped the last of her cinnamon mocha, she tried to focus on Kaia, who was telling her a story about her latest class drama. The girl had an infectious energy, a kind of brightness that made Lyra forget her troubles, if only for a moment.

"—and then Jasper totally called him out in front of everyone! It was hilarious!" Kaia was laughing, but Lyra was only half-listening. Her thoughts kept drifting.

"You okay?" Kaia asked, her voice cutting through Lyra's haze.

Lyra blinked, forcing herself to focus on her friend's face.

"Yeah, just tired," she said, offering a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It's been a long week."

Kaia studied her for a moment, then nodded. "If you say so. But remember, I'm here. You're not alone in all of this."

Lyra opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, the sound of her phone buzzing in her pocket interrupted her. She pulled it out, her heart skipping a beat when she saw the message.

It was from her father, Aelric.

Aelric's Message: "Lyra. A letter has arrived for you. It's important. Please come to my office when you can."

Her breath caught. A letter? She hadn't received one in months. And if it was from her father's office, it must have something to do with her heritage—or with Vane. Her heart pounded faster.

"I've got to go," she said quickly, standing up. "Something's come up. I'll text you later, okay?"

Kaia raised an eyebrow, but didn't push it. "Sure. Take care, Lyra."

Lyra gave her a quick hug and rushed out of the café, her mind racing. The letter could be anything, but she couldn't shake the feeling that it had something to do with Vane. The timing felt too strange to be coincidental.

As she hurried back to the academy, her thoughts were filled with dread and hope in equal measure. She had to know what this letter meant.

Vane's Perspective

The air was thick with the scent of moss and damp earth as Vane moved through the Dark Forest. He hadn't spoken to anyone in days, not since the last time he had exchanged words with his grandfather, Hadrien, just before being sent deeper into the forest for his training.

It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The trees towered over him, their gnarled branches twisting like ancient hands, reaching down as if trying to drag him into the earth. The forest was alive—alive in a way that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. The magic here was older than anything he had encountered before, and it was powerful. It was dangerous.

But more than anything, it was silent.

A silence that pressed down on him, wrapping around his mind, suffocating any thoughts that weren't necessary for survival.

Focus.

Hadrien's voice echoed in his mind. He'd said it so many times before. Focus, Vane. Trust no one but yourself. The Dark Forest will teach you its lessons whether you're ready or not.

Vane clenched his fists, trying to block out the unease gnawing at him. It wasn't just the forest that was testing him. It was the constant battle inside his own mind. The war between what he was supposed to be and who he wanted to be.

Every step he took felt heavier. The magic that swirled around him seemed to recognize his bloodline, drawing him in with promises of power, of knowledge. But Vane wasn't ready to listen to it. Not yet.

He wasn't here for power. He wasn't here to be consumed by the Dark Forest's ancient magic. He was here to grow, to master the Blood Field, to understand his heritage and control the force that lived within him. He had no choice but to survive it.

But the longer he was in the forest, the more he felt its pull—its whispering promises. Sometimes, when he was alone, he could almost hear his name being called. It was faint, like a shadow at the edge of his consciousness.

"Vane..." The sound was like a ghost, soft and insistent.

He froze, his heart skipping.

He knew that voice.

For a moment, he felt something stir inside him—a pull. Lyra.

He looked around, but there was nothing. The shadows of the trees shifted, their branches creaking in the wind.

It was just the forest, messing with his mind.

But it didn't stop the ache that settled in his chest, a weight that seemed to grow heavier every day.

Lyra. I promised I'd come back.

But would he? Would he even be the same when he returned? Would she still see him the way she had before?

Vane had to be honest with himself. Part of him was afraid of what the forest would do to him. What it had already started to do. There were things he didn't understand, things he couldn't control.

He continued walking, deeper into the heart of the forest, the trees closing in around him. The path ahead was unclear, but he had no choice but to move forward.

Lyra's Perspective

The office was dimly lit when Lyra stepped inside. Her father, Aelric, stood by his desk, his back to her as he stared out the window, his expression unreadable.

"Father," she began, her voice tentative.

Aelric turned slowly, his sharp gaze falling on her. "You've received a letter, Lyra. It's... important."

Lyra swallowed. "Important? What does it say?"

Aelric hesitated for a moment before he walked over to the desk and retrieved a sealed envelope. The wax seal was an ancient symbol—the same one that marked her family's lineage.

Her heart skipped.

He handed her the letter wordlessly. Lyra took it with trembling hands, breaking the seal and pulling out the parchment inside. The writing was familiar—almost too familiar. It was written in a language she had not seen in years, but one that she knew well enough.

We have been watching. The time for his return is drawing near.

Her stomach dropped.

His return?

Her eyes scanned the rest of the letter, her mind racing with the implications. But the last few words stopped her dead in her tracks.

The Dark Forest is changing him. There is no guarantee he will come back the same.

Lyra's breath hitched in her throat.

What did that mean?