Nepenthe • Something that can make you forget grief or suffering.
Never feeling like they belonged was a feeling that Lissa Dragomir lived with, even with her family and life long best friend, although they aided in that feeling not being so strong...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
The iron-wrought gates of the Royal Court slowly parted, breaking the midnight stillness of the high stone fortress. A sleek, black private sedan glided through the threshold, its tinted windows reflecting the pale moonlight that washed over the rugged cliffs. Inside the cushioned, silent cabin, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken tension.
Jesse sat on the plush leather seat, leaning his head against the glass, while Kate sat rigid beside him. Her posture was entirely professional, her sharp eyes constantly scanning the dark parameters outside. This was her field experience assignment—a mandatory rotation meant to give Novices a taste of actual Guardian life. It meant wherever Jesse went, she went. And tonight, Jesse was visiting his family estate.
The vehicle began its winding descent from the towering heights of the central castle. The road was a steep, serpentine path carved directly into the bedrock of the mountain, wrapping around the southern base of the massive citadel, though it allowed for two lanes, one though up and one going down. Through the window, the nocturnal world of the Moroi unfolded in brilliant, glowing fragments. Because vampires lived by night, the Dominion didn't sleep under the cover of darkness; it thrived.
As the car swept past the lower stone tiers of the fortress, Kate watched the glowing lights of the Central Plaza flicker in the short distance to the east, radiating heat and activity even at this hour. The sedan, however, bypassed the bustling heart of the city, skirting the deep shadow of the mountain where the winding road pressed close to the edges of the notorious Red Light District.
From the elevated path, the neon crimson and deep violet lights of Red Light district bled into the foggy night air, casting an eerie, iridescent haze over the tightly packed rooftops below. Laughter, faint thumping music, and the clinking of glasses drifted upward through the thick mountain air, a reminder of the hedonistic nightlife that fueled the Moroi capital.
The driver navigated the curves with practiced ease, rolling downward until the steep cliffs leveled out into a sprawling, upscale neighborhood. The car glided smoothly into the quiet, heavily guarded perimeter of the Royal Estate on the western side of the city. Here, the chaotic energy of the nightlife faded into an oppressive, quiet opulence.
One singular grand manor stood with towering arches and manicured gardens lined the private avenues, illuminated by soft, strategically placed gas lamps that cast long, elegant shadows across the cobblestones. The sedan finally slowed, turning into a massive, gated driveway that led toward the imposing, dark-stone mansion of the Zecklos family.
When the car came to a seamless halt in the grand portico, a liveried Moroi servant stepped forward to open the doors. Jesse stepped out first, running a hand through his thick, dirty blond hair—a stark contrast to the dark aesthetic of the estate around them.
