The room was cloaked in heavy silence, broken only by the faint echo of footsteps. An elderly woman stepped into the center, her posture upright and composed. Through the years, lines had been carved into her face, and there was a sharpness to her presence, refined and unyielding.

“I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’ve been brought here,” she began, her voice clipped, precise, and practiced. “And I’m here to explain. But before that, introductions.”

She moved with a fluid grace that defied her age, the dim Light Arcana illuminating the strands of silver in her hair as they shimmered faintly in the gloom.

“My name is Leora Umbera. For the next two years, I will oversee your education. You will learn what it means to be a vampire and what is expected of you as one of status.”

Her words were final, delivered without hesitation. She gave them no room for interruption, no time to question.

“From what my husband, Lucius, tells me, one of you already has a rough idea of your situation. That’s helpful. But make no mistake, it's not enough. Let me be clear: Yes, you were brought here to awaken a Vampire Progenitor. And no, this isn’t some ordinary bloodline revival. This project has been in motion since the beginning of time.”

Her gaze passed over each of the girls with measured calm, her presence quietly commanding.

“And my role,” she added, “is to ensure you do not fail.”

With a simple motion of her hand, seven shimmering objects emerged from the thin veil of dim light. Necklaces, each one adorned with a gleaming, otherworldly gemstone.

“You can’t begin until you can see,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “These are Amulets of Darkvision. You’ll use them during your stay.”

She handed them out one by one. The delicate gold chains were elegant, but it was the stone cool, luminous, and faintly thrumming with arcane energy that caught every eye. The gems didn’t feel like they belonged to this world.

As each girl placed her amulet around her neck, the darkness lifted. The room transformed—soft clarity blooming where shadows once pressed close. They could now see the detailed stonework of the walls, the faded textures of the worn floor, the fabric of the bedding that had seemed invisible just moments ago.

“This is incredible,” one of them whispered, wide-eyed with wonder.

“You’ll grow used to it,” Leora replied with a faint smile, as if amused by their awe.

“Time for marveling will come later. Right now, we have a schedule to keep.”

Her tone sharpened again, her expression settling back into one of formality.

“Your lives from this point forward will follow the rhythms of vampire society. That means rest during the day, activity at night. You may feel disoriented, this place exists outside of conventional time. But you must adapt. Aligning yourselves with a vampire’s cycle is the foundation for everything else.”

Among the girls, one stepped forward hesitantly. Lilya, youngest among them, spoke with as much calm as she could muster.

“Mrs. Umbera, I understand the need for change… but we’re still human. We need food—real food. We haven’t eaten properly in days. Is there anything we can have?”

A ripple of unease passed through the others. Hunger had settled into their bones, dulled only by fatigue. Leora regarded them with a thoughtful tilt of her head.

“That does seem to be a problem,” she murmured, almost absently.

She fell into momentary silence, her eyes losing focus, lost in calculations or considerations unspoken. Just as Lilya opened her mouth to speak again, Leora stirred.

“My apologies. I was thinking about logistics. Human food is not something we keep in abundance. But I’ll find something. You’re likely starving.”

With that, she turned sharply on her heel and exited the room, her cloak whispering along the stone floor as the door clicked shut behind her.

The girls stood in silence for a while, still adjusting to the strange clarity their new vision granted them. Lilya turned the amulet over in her fingers, the stone catching and holding the light. Whatever Leora brought back, it wouldn’t be a simple meal.

…

Leora returned an hour later, carrying bowls of food that shimmered briefly as she summoned a small dining table covered in velvet. She set the bowls down with a graceful motion.

“It’s not ideal for human nourishment,” she admitted, “but this was the best that could be made from the ingredients we had. In the future, you’ll receive better. For now, this will have to do.”

Chairs appeared alongside the table, and the girls took their seats. The bowls held a hearty stew, rich and steaming, with chunks of meat that looked remarkably like beef.

Some of the girls stared at the meal in disbelief before tears welled in their eyes.

Leora blinked, taken aback. “Is something wrong?” she asked, uncertain.

Carla, the eldest among them, quiet and observant, offered an explanation.

“There’s nothing wrong with the food, Mrs. Umbera. It’s just… for some of us, this is the first time we’ve ever had actual meat. We were all orphaned from a young age. Even when our parents were alive, they couldn’t afford luxuries like this. Only Lilya has had meat before. And after everything that’s happened, we weren’t expecting anything familiar.”

“I see,” Leora said softly, visibly moved despite herself. “Well… I’ll leave you to eat and rest. I’ll return in about ten hours to begin your formal lessons on vampire society.”

She departed quietly this time.

The girls ate slowly, savoring every bite. When the meal was finished, they huddled together into a bed far too small for seven people. As the cold night wind slipped through unseen cracks in the walls, they curled up together, seeking warmth and comfort.

Carla lay at the center, bearing the quiet weight of the others. At seventeen, she was the oldest and the unofficial caretaker. Rachel, nearly sixteen, followed next, and the rest—all fifteen—clung to each other with quiet trust. Lilya, at fourteen, was the youngest, but had, by unspoken consensus, become their leader. Even so, no decision was made without Carla’s word.

As they slowly drifted off to sleep, the weariness of uncertainty gave way to a rare moment of peace. One by one, they were carried into slumber until, finally, Lilya herself closed her eyes and surrendered to the dark.