Two Years Earlier – Western Urislanda, Human Slave Market

Why was life so cruel?

Lilya had always believed she was meant for something greater, being one of the Blessed. But all she had ever known was tragedy. Her parents were murdered, punished for their success. She had barely escaped that night, forced to survive on the streets.

And yet, she adapted. She gathered a group of girls to build a small guide service for tourists and newcomers. They showed visitors the best eateries and shops in exchange for food or coin.

They had been so close to saving enough for a home of their own.

Then the slavers came.

All seven of them were taken. They had been confined in a cage for over a week, watching others dragged off—some screaming, some silent, all broken. They waited for their turn. And with every passing day, hope withered further.

Until he walked in.

An old man, pale as snow, moved through the market with quiet purpose. His eyes were not red, but Lilya had read enough to know that high-ranking vampires could hide their traits.

Why would one of them come here?

The realization struck her in an instant.

She didn’t think. She acted.

“Sir,” she called out, gripping the bars. “Will you please buy me?”

The man stopped. He turned slightly, one brow lifting in curiosity as his gaze settled on her with a sly grin.

“And why would a slave pick her master?” he asked.

“You are not who you appear to be,” she said calmly. “And there’s only one reason your kind would come here. I’m gambling on it.”

He stared at her for a beat, then let out a short, amused laugh.

“Interesting.”

Turning to the slaver, he said, “Mr. Jameson. I’ll take this one.”

The cage door creaked open. Lilya stepped out but paused.

“Sir…”

His gaze was fixed on her again, dark eyes gleaming faintly in the torchlight.

“The other six,” she said evenly. “They’re mine. Loyal. Trained.”

Another pause. Then a faint smile tugged at the old man’s lips. He nodded once.

“Two hundred for the lot,” the slaver said quickly, greed thick in his voice.

The pale man reached into his coat and drew out two platinum coins, dropping them into the slaver’s palm without a word.

Lilya stared, momentarily stunned. Two platinum coins—far beyond reason. The slaver stared too, unsure if they were real. Then, fumbling, he ordered the other girls released.

She rushed to the cage and motioned to them. Slowly, they stepped out and followed their buyer through the dungeon corridor.

They emerged into a sprawling market alive with noise and color. The air was thick with the scents of spice, sweat, and smoke. People of mixed blood bustled among the stalls. Unlike the human capital, where non-humans were shunned, here they moved freely and comfortably. This city seemed to embrace those between worlds.

As they neared the market’s exit, the man stopped and turned.

“What is your name?” he asked.

“Lilya,” she answered immediately.

A grunt of acknowledgment.

“How did you know I was one of them?” he asked with idle curiosity.

She looked up at him. “Your skin. Too pale.”

He gave no answer—just the barest twitch at the corner of his mouth.

“May I ask why someone like you would buy slaves instead of simply taking what you want?”

He didn’t reply.

“My guess? You’re here to make an impression. You have a plan. That already makes you better than most humans I’ve met.”

This time, he smiled. A small, knowing smile, radiant as moonlight.

…

They walked a long while before arriving at a nameless tavern lit by a single flickering candle in the window. Inside, the walls were shrouded in shadow. A pale bartender scowled from behind the counter.

“Found what you were looking for, Lucius?” the bartender grumbled.

“More like it found me,” the man—Lucius—replied.

“The teleportation ritual is ready,” the bartender said. He gestured for the girls to follow.

He led them into a chamber illuminated by glowing blue stones. At its center stood a carved waystone, etched with runes and arcane symbols. Lucius placed his hand against it and began to chant softly. The words were ancient, unintelligible.

The stone flared with light.

Lilya stumbled, the world twisting away from her. Then—darkness.

And in that void, a pair of crimson eyes opened and met hers. A chill ran down her spine.

Then Lucius’s voice echoed, quiet and distant:

“Welcome to your new life.”

…

“Follow me,” Lucius said in the silence. “I’ll take you to your room.”

“We can’t see,” Lilya said.

“Oh, silly me,” he murmured. “It’s been so long since I was human, I forgot you can’t see in the dark.” A glow burst from his palm. “Better?”

“Much,” she said.

They walked down a narrow hallway, but even with the light, the shadows felt thick—pressing inward. Only the area directly around Lucius was visible.

After several minutes, he stopped. “We’re here. You probably can’t see, but there’s a door in front of you. I’ll leave ‘Light Arcana’ in the room so you can see. Wait inside. Someone will explain everything soon.”

He opened the door and cast the spell, bathing the room in faint, unnatural light, then exited.

The girls hesitated before stepping inside. They stood in silence, stunned. Even Lilya, who had initiated everything, was still trying to make sense of it all.

Eventually, she examined the room. Like Lucius’s spell, the orbs of light gave off only the bare minimum illumination. It wasn’t due to weakness—the darkness seemed to resist the light. A bed rested near one of the orbs. She guided the others toward it.

They followed without question.

Once they were seated, Carla broke the silence. “So, Lilya. Care to explain your plan? How did we go from being doomed to this?”

“It was a gamble,” Lilya said honestly. “I don’t know how it’ll play out. But whatever happens, it’s better than what would’ve happened if I hadn’t spoken up.”

Carla folded her arms. “Then what are you hoping will happen?”

Lilya took a breath. “What year is it?”

“The first month of 40,016,” someone replied.

“And what happens every thousand years?”

“Something to do with vampire progenitors?” another offered.

“Exactly. Every thousand years, one appears in each region.”

“Okay, but what does that have to do with us?”

Lilya leaned forward. “Progenitors don’t awaken on their own. Vampires seek them out and awaken them. I think we’re going to be used for that.”

“…That sounds bad. Are we being sacrificed?”

“No. The book I read said Blood Consorts were originally human women. It also referenced something called Blood Attendants—humans turned by Consorts. That’s why I told Lucius the others were ‘loyal’ and ‘trained.’ I wanted him to see the potential in them. And he did.”

Carla was still uneasy. “So what now?”

“Lucius said someone would come to explain,” Lilya replied. “We wait.”

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. The girls stood and huddled near the far wall as the lock rattled.

The door slammed open.

A small woman stepped in—weathered, but calm. She looked as if she’d seen enough of life to be ready for quiet days and grandchildren.

She took a moment, looking at each of them.

“It’s time for you to find out why we brought you here,” she said.

Then, the door shut behind her with a quiet finality.

PR/N: ‘Light Arcana’ - Fills a small radius with impure light. The impure light allows vision; however, it cannot damage those affected by light, such as vampires.