A torrent of rain crashed against the Nocturnal District without a drop touching its streets.

Originally meant to house the vampires of Dragon’s Rest, the entire district was contained in a humongous dome of dark tinted glass that shielded residents from the sun and kept them conveniently isolated from the rest of the city.

Over the ages it has come to house even more of the city’s undesirables. Werebeasts, succubi, drows, and the odd human with nowhere else to go lived in uneasy peace within a bubble of darkness hidden deep inside the world’s most prosperous merchant city.

Valen strolled through the artificially darkened streets for the first time in four years. He’d been an oddity outside the Nocturnal District. A vampire who clawed his way out of squalor into a ‘normal’ life. The exception that proves the rule.

Here he was just another bloke going about his night. As glad as he was to have left it, this dark little dome was and deep down will always be his home.

Colourful neon signs lit up the eternal night as outsiders streamed in to indulge in their vices knowing that whatever they did there would stay there.

Dance music that shook the gravel boomed from underground nightclubs and succubi loitered around wagging their pointed tails in scanty outfits that would get them arrested for public indecency anywhere else.

“Thanks again for coming along, Enid.” Valen looked at his best friend, a visitor who knew little about life in the Nocturnal District. “It means a lot to me.”

Enid kept pace beside him, her hands buried in a blue cashmere trench coat worth more than most people’s rent. A veil of deep scarlet hair covered one of her icy blue eyes as she studied their seedy surroundings with mild disinterest.

“It’s fine,” she said, her voice soft and low in a way he could never decide sounded sultry or just plain tired. “I owe your sister a lot too. The least I can do is pay her a visit.”

“Gods know she needs all the support she can get right now.”

“Still, I find it a bit hard to believe that you grew up in a place like this.”

“Oh, we’re just passing through here,” said Valen. “This is Reveller’s Row. It’s the only part of the Nocturnal District anyone outside of it cares about.”

“Can’t imagine why.” Enid watched as a human man was led into a nearby brothel by scantily clad succubi. “Did you really have to bring us through here though?”

“Despite appearances, it’s actually safer if we take this route. Gangs tend to avoid fighting around here because it’s bad for business.”

Not a second after the words left his mouth, a drunk werewolf crashed through a bar window and landed in front of them on a pile of broken glass.

Enid’s expression didn’t waver from her neutral frown. “You were saying?”

“I said it was safer, not safe.” Valen bent down and helped the werewolf up from the ground, brushing off bits of broken glass from his leather jacket as he did. “You alright there, sir?”

Coarse brown fur covered the werewolf’s digitigrade legs and forearms, spotted red by sweet blood from a dozen tiny cuts that Valen tried to ignore.

The werewolf looked him up and down from his drunken haze, glancing at the ruby encrusted earring dangling from his left ear before homing in on the red irises and black sclera of his eyes that marked him as a vampire.

“Hands off me, ya posh leech!” The werewolf pushed him away with enough force to knock him down.

Enid caught and steadied him before he could hit the ground. Her frown deepened.

She was about to say something when a hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“Come on, Enid,” said Valen, calm as ever. “It’s not worth it.”

Enid didn’t know much about the Nocturnal District, but if the news and internet memes were any indication it probably wasn’t a place for the softhearted. How Valen of all people was able to survive, much less grow up there was beyond her.

“Fine.” She shoved her hands back inside her trench coat. “Let’s just get to your place then.”

“It’s around the corner, we’ll be there in no time.”

Valen continued to lead her through Reveller’s Row and into a narrow alleyway nestled between an old-fashioned tavern and seedy dive bar.

The seductive glamour of nightlife faded along with the light behind them as they descended deeper into the Nocturnal District’s hidden corners. Valen held Enid’s hand as he guided her through the darkness with his night vision.

They emerged on the other side of the alley to the centuries old cobblestone of Sharpe Street, the part of the Nocturnal District no tourist ever wanted to find themselves in.

A depressing collection of cheap flats and rundown houses where generations had lived tucked away from the rest of the world surrounded them.

Sparse rows of dim lamp posts that hadn’t seen any sort of maintenance in forever provided the only source of illumination in the area. They were only there for decoration since most residents already had night vision-built to fulfil city regulations more than anything else.

“Well this is a change in scenery,” Enid said. Her one eye not hidden by her hair strained to make out shapes in the scant light.

Valen studied her face for any sign of hesitance.

She was beautiful. Almost uncannily so, with skin like flawless porcelain and supple pink lips fixed in a permanent frown that made her nigh-impossible to read.

“Hey, Enid, it’s alright if you want to turn back,” he told her. “I can walk you back to the train station if you don’t feel comfortable around here.”

Valen felt her squeeze his hand through his thin leather gloves, though her expression didn’t change.

“It’s fine. I’m the one who insisted on coming anyways. Besides, I kind of prefer this to Reveller’s Row. At least here I can hear myself think.”

Valen let out a soft chuckle.

“Let’s still try to get to my place quickly. Sharpe Street is dangerous on the best of nights.”

Before going any further, he removed his silver and ruby earring. It’d been one of the few treasures his mother managed to bring with her when she immigrated to Dragon’s Rest. While he liked to wear it in her memory, showing it off in Sharpe Street was just asking to get shanked.

Valen led Enid deeper into his old neighbourhood, guiding them along the pavement with his nocturnal eyesight.

In contrast to Reveller’s Row, few people dared to stroll Sharpe Street. Those who did either travelled in close groups or made a conscious effort to stay away from everyone else. One can never be too careful about who not to cross in the Nocturnal District.

After four long years away attending a posh university and living with Enid in an even posher house, his childhood in Sharpe Street had begun to feel like a half-forgotten dream tucked into the recesses of his mind to make room for study notes.

The memories wormed their way back out the more he saw of his old, unchanged neighbourhood. Some pleasant. Others less so.

The pub where he got his first job. The dumpsters where he used to catch rats to feed off. The alleyway where he witnessed his first murder.

It wasn’t all bad though.

Some of the more pleasant memories compelled him to stop at an old building with cracks running down its red brick walls.

“Is that your place?” Enid asked.

“No, that’s still a couple blocks away. It’s just that an old friend of mine used to live in one of those flats.”

“Want to pay them a visit before we get to your place?”

He considered it for a moment before shaking his head. “Better not. I’m not even sure if she’s still living there. Come on, let’s keep going.”

Valen had hoped for an uneventful walk home. He’d had such walks a million times before as a street kid trying to make it through each night without getting stabbed.

So of course, that was the one night he had to run across the very people who gave the Nocturnal District its unfortunate reputation.

“Oy, you ladies lost?”

Valen turned around to find three werewolves with light brown fur approaching. They all wore some combination of green and black to represent their gang, though it was one he didn’t recognise.

Upon getting closer, one of the werewolves with neon green hair styled in a mohawk squinted at Valen in jest before letting out a hearty laugh.

“Oh! My mistake mate. You looked like a chick with that ponytail. You could give a succubus a run for her money with that mug.”

His friends joined in on the laughter. Valen didn’t give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

He always had fine features that bordered on androgynous, with high cheekbones, a narrow jawline, and long black hair tied in a ponytail he kept draped over one shoulder.

Whatever the werewolves may have to say about his appearance, he’s heard it all before.

“Is there something we can help you with, sirs?” Valen kept his voice soft as he spoke but made a point to look the nearest werewolf straight in his piss yellow eyes as he did.

“Yeah, there’s a few things you can help us with actually,” said another werewolf, a mountain of a man with hair on every part of his body save for his head. “See, we’re all a bit strapped for cash.”

“Is that so?”

Valen snuck a glance at Enid.

Though he was no mage, his vampire blood let him sense powerful magic emanating from her like a thousand pins and needles prickling his skin. If she was readying a spell like he thought she was, then things could get real ugly real fast.

Ignorant to the magical static around them, the werewolves swaggered forward.

Valen let go of Enid’s hand and put himself between her and the werewolves, though he wasn’t quite sure yet who he was protecting from who.

“Well aren’t you a knight in shining armour?” said the third and last of the werewolves, a twitchy little thing who looked more weasel than wolf. “How about you help us too? I reckon you can spare us a draco or ten.”

Claws extended from their four-fingered hands, each claw more deadly than any switchblade.

“I don’t mind if it means you’ll let us be on our way.” He pulled a black leather wallet from his back pocket and held it up for them to see. “Ah, you don’t mind if I take a few cards out first, do you? I really don’t feel like going to the DMV again anytime soon.”

The werewolves chuckled. Good. Even crooks were less likely to hurt those that made them laugh.

“Yeah, whatever sissy,” said the thug with a mohawk. “Just keep the cash inside.”

“Of course, of course.” He pinched his driver’s licence from his wallet, holding it up for the muggers to see before pocketing it and throwing the rest of his wallet to the nearest one. “Hope that helps with your money trouble.”

The tallest werewolf caught the wallet mid-air. “What about your little girlfriend there?”

Valen didn’t even need to look at her to tell Enid was itching to sling some spells with how much magical static prickled his back.

But escalating the situation still wasn’t worth the chance of someone getting hurt.

He shook his head at Enid.

“It’s not worth it,” he mouthed.

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“Tch. Fine.”

Enid reached into her trenchcoat and tossed her wallet towards the werewolves’ direction, aiming low so they’d have to kneel when picking it up.

The magical static around her didn’t disappear, but Valen was relieved that she was at least willing to try to take the safer way out.

“Cheeky little tart,” mumbled the weaselly werewolf before picking up her wallet from the ground. His eyes went wide upon seeing its contents. “Holy shit!”

The mohawked werewolf looked at his friend. “What?”

The weaselly werewolf pulled out a whole stack of cash from Enid’s wallet. Each dark brown bill was printed with the image of a mighty dragon, denoting their worth at a hundred dracos each.

Valen felt his heart drop.

“Did you really have to pack that much with you?” he whispered to Enid, who merely offered a small shrug.

The weasel wolf smiled like an idiot as he struggled to count past ten while flipping through the bills.

“Yo, this bitch is loaded!”

“Hmm.” The tallest werewolf stared at Enid, though his eyes seemed more fixated on her large bust than anything else. “She might have more under that fancy coat.”

A sleazy grin spread across his face. He stepped forward and tried to push Valen out of the way but found him much sturdier than his lean frame would have suggested.

Not budging an inch, Valen placed a gloved hand on the werewolf’s chest to keep him from going any further.

“Don’t.” His soft voice grew low as the fangs inside his mouth lengthened. “You already got more money than you could've possibly hope for tonight. There’s no need for this to go any further. Just take the money and go.”

The werewolf scoffed. “What are you gonna do about it, pretty boy?”

Valen considered his response. He still preferred to avoid a fight if possible, and what he said next was going to decide how things went down.

A voice he hadn’t heard in years cut him off before he could speak.

“It’s not him you should be worried about.”

Everyone’s eyes turned towards the direction of the voice. Enid strained hers, finding it difficult to see through the darkness without night vision.

A snow white werewolf in a yellow hoodie emerged from a shadowy alleyway towards them.

Though her height didn’t even scratch five feet, she strutted as if she were ten feet tall with a wild air that screamed ‘don’t fuck with me’.

Her human skin and hair were as white as the wolven fur on her arms and legs. Her golden eyes, the only speck of colour on her body, sized up the would-be muggers with a look of utter contempt.

“You.” The mohawked werewolf spat on the ground. “What do you want?”

“Why?” asked the tiny werewolf, lips curled in a mischievous grin. “Can’t I drop by to say hi to a friend?”

“We ain’t your friend, bitch.”

“Wasn’t talking about you, dipshit.” Her golden eyes turned to Valen. “Hey Valen.”

“Hey Louise,” said Valen, offering an awkward smile. “It’s been a while.”

Enid’s eyes homed onto Louise, whose white fur made her a bit easier to spot in the dark. “You know this chick?”

“Yeah, I used to hang out with her on weekends while we were still in school.”

The tallest werewolf huffed. “You can visit what’s left of your twink in the hospital later. This doesn’t concern you werewolves.”

Enid looked between the werebeasts, confused. “Aren’t you guys all werewolves?”

“What, these chucklefucks?” Louise let out a bellowing laugh that sounded far too loud for someone so small. “They’re werecoyotes. Our weaker, much less successful cousins.”

“Look who’s talking.” The weaselly mugger who Valen just realised was supposed to be a coyote snarled and pocketed Enid’s wallet. “You’re looking awfully small now that you don’t have your pack backing you up.”

Louise’s left eye twitched in annoyance.

“You got another thing coming if you think I need their help to kick your sorry arses.”

The tallest werecoyote backed away from Valen and turned his attention to their whitefurred intruder. “You feel like backing that up, she-wolf?”

A toothy grin spread across Louise's face.

In less time than it took to blink, a white blur cut through the darkness as Louise closed the gap and sent a flying knee straight into the face of the weaselly coyote.

Her grin widened as pieces of the werecoyote’s teeth scattered onto the ground.

“Gladly.”

Not a second later, the magical static Valen had been feeling transformed into actual vibrations in the air.

He turned around just in time to see a streak of blue lightning shoot out from Enid’s palm, followed by a miniature thunderclap that boomed across the street.

The magic lightning convulsed and curved past him through the air in a sort of controlled chaos. It found its mark on the mohawked werecoyote, who let out a scream that was quickly drowned out by deafening crackles of electricity.

Valen thought he could see his skeleton light up for a split second before he crumpled onto the gravel, his mohawk still burning at the tip like a used birthday candle.

The tallest of the werecoyotes turned around just in time to see his friend get fried. “She’s a mage?!”

“Yup.” Valen spun him back around to face him for a well-timed suckerpunch to the jaw.

Though it didn’t knock the werecoyote out, there was just enough vampiric strength behind it to disorient him for what came next.

Valen grabbed him by the collar of his leather jacket with his right hand while his left hand clutched the right upper sleeve. Then, in one fluid motion, hooked his leg around the back of the werecoyote’s right thigh and reaped the entire leg from under him.

It was one of the first moves he ever learned for self defence. The martial art it was from called itself ‘The Gentle Way’, though he had to wonder what the hell was so gentle about throwing people twice his size around.

Had they been sparing in a dojo, the werecoyote would’ve dropped onto the ground like a sack of potatoes with a satisfying muffled thump. But being out on the street, he didn’t so much fall as he did crash straight into the concrete back first.

A puff of air forced itself out of the werecoyote’s lungs. He was dazed for the moment, but it wouldn’t last long and probably wasn’t enough to make him yield.

Though Valen was not one to condone excessive violence, there were times when a message had to be sent through an especially thick skull with something more substantial than words.

Valen planted a punch straight down into the already disoriented werecoyote’s face. His nose shattered with a soft crack that was followed by blood gushing out of his nostrils.

The smell was exquisite. Sweet and succulent and finer than any wine.

For a moment Valen felt the thirst gnawing at him. Like a wild beast inside his gut trying to claw its way out through his throat. His hungry fangs extended to their full size inside his mouth. Only willpower born from years of practised restraint allowed him to resist the urge to sink them into something.

Fighting with himself more than the man he was beating, Valen pulled himself back and raised his right leg high into the air. When his foot was above his head, he brought it smashing down straight against the werecoyote’s rib cage in a brutal axe kick.

The werecoyote coughed out the rest of his breath and curled up on the gravel. The sound of something breaking inside his chest told Valen that he’d hit his intended mark.

With the immediate threat dealt with, Valen spun around to check on his best friend. “Enid, you alright?”

“I’m fine,” said Enid with sparks of electricity still dancing on her palm while the target of said electricity groaned on the floor with his green mohawk singed black. “Can’t say the same for these guys though.”

“I’ll say.” Valen turned to look at Louise, who was still hunched over the weaselly mugger pummeling his face into a pulp that’ll take days to regenerate. “I think the poor bastard’s had enough, Lou.”

Louise elbowed the werecoyote in the face one last time for good measure. “If you insist.”

The moment she let him go, he scrambled to his feet to run away only for Valen to grab him by the collar.

“Oh, come on man!” He whined through bruised purple lips. “I thought you were cool!”

“The wallet,” Valen said calmly. “Hand it over.”

“Here, take it!” He shoved Enid’s wallet into Valen’s chest.

Valen took it back and pushed the werecoyote away, taking a bit more satisfaction than he would’ve liked to admit when his already messed up face crashed onto the floor.

“Go. And take the chap with the mohawk with you.”

His would-be mugger scurried away and helped his friend leg it out of the scene of the would-be crime. If either of them had tails, it would probably be between their legs.

Only the tallest mugger was left, still curled up on the floor struggling to catch his breath. He flinched at Louise’s touch when she rifled through his jacket pocket.

“Hey Valen, catch.” Louise tossed him back his wallet before pocketing the werecoyote’s own wallet for herself.

“Thanks.” Valen looked down at the crumpled up body of his mugger. The tempting smell of blood still lingered in the air, and he put a hand over his nose to keep it out of his head. “Can you walk?”

The werecoyote wheezed. “What?”

“I’m asking if you can stand up and walk.”

He seemed confused for a moment. “I…think so?”

“Good. Now walk away while you can still walk.”

The werecoyote looked like he wanted to say something but barely had enough brains in his cueball head to stop himself before he could.

Defeated, he picked himself up and limped away.

Apparently annoyed at the speed of his retreat, Enid shot another bolt of lightning from her palm that scorched a hole in the pavement inches away from him and sent him running for dear life. Valen didn’t even want to imagine the internal bleeding he must be feeling with his broken ribs.

The electricity in Enid’s hand dispersed along with the magical static around her. “Wanker.”

Louise looked Enid up and down with mild confusion.

“This is your new girlfriend?” Her eyes lingered on Enid’s chest a bit longer than needed. “Well, I guess I can see why. You sure know how to pick’em.”

Valen cleared his throat. “Louise, this is Enid. She was my mate from school. Enid, this is Louise. I grew up with her around here.”

Enid stared down Louise, who returned her gaze with equal intensity. “Hi.”

“Hey.”

Valen wasn’t quite sure why, but he got the feeling they didn’t like each other very much already.

With the danger having passed, Valen felt his fangs retract back into more or less human-like teeth.

“So, what brought you out here this time of night, Louise?” he said in an attempt to lighten the mood.

“Caught your scent when you passed by my flat. There was another scent I didn’t recognise too so I was worried you got kidnapped or something.” She pointed a thumb at Enid. “Turns out it was just electrocutie over here but it’s a good thing I came by anyways.”

Enid put a hand on her hip. “We could’ve taken them.”

Valen nudged her side with his elbow. “I think what she means is thank you for helping us out with those guys.”

“Ah, it’s not a problem,” said Louise, though she casted a sideways glance at Enid that looked less than friendly. “You’ve picked a fine bloody time to come back to the Nocturnal District though. I thought I’d never see you again after you fucked off to Silverlake. What compelled you to return to this shithole?”

Enid glared at her. “That’s none of your-”

Valen put a hand on her shoulder before she could finish.

“It’s fine,” he assured her before turning to Louise. “It’s about Vivian. Have you heard from her lately?”

Louise shrugged. “Haven’t really talked to her after you left. Why? Is she getting married or something?”

It was a nice thought, but almost laughable in its optimism.

“No, Louise.” He took a deep breath. “Vivian has the Divine Plague.”

For a moment, Louise didn’t say anything. There was a look of disbelief on her face, followed by surprise which settled into earnest sympathy once she fully processed what he said.

“Valen, I…I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” said Valen. “It’s not your fault.”

If anybody’s, it was the gods’ fault in the most literal way possible.

While the Divine Plague wasn’t technically a plague or even contagious, the ‘Divine’ part of its name was no exaggeration.

It first appeared right before the gods abandoned the mortal plane. A mystical illness that couldn’t be cured by the natural sciences and affected people seemingly at random.

Most believe the Divine Plague was the gods’ way of reminding mortals of their existence after they left. Every life the Divine Plague took served to keep memories of the gods alive for another generation. Over time it became just another unfortunate fact of life.

Droughts destroy crops, recession causes poverty, and sometimes, the Divine Plague kills someone who didn’t deserve to die.

Louise scratched the back of her head.

“I’ll, um, leave you to that then. Tell her I wish her well.”

“Right.” Enid turned her back to leave before the sound of Valen’s voice stopped her.

“Wait,” he said. Louise looked at him, the fierce look in her eye replaced by that of a guilty puppy after being caught. “Do you want to come too? I’m sure Vivian could use more company.”

Louise perked up at the prospect, though there was still caution in her eyes.

“I’d like to, but are you sure that’ll be alright?”

“Yeah. This really isn't the time to hang on to stuff in the past.”

Louise turned her gaze to Enid, who rolled her eyes.

“It’s Valen’s sister we’re visiting. If he’s fine with you tagging along I won’t make a fuss.”

“I’ll just drop by to say hi to her then then,” Louise walked up to Valen’s side with a spring in her step.

Enid narrowed her eyes at the white werewolf.

“Do try to stay out of trouble though,” she said. “The thugs back there seemed awfully familiar with you and I have to wonder why.”

“My gang days are over. I can’t help it if those dipshits didn’t get the memo.” She glared back at Enid. “I’d be more worried about you. You’re just asking for trouble dressed like that.”

“I’m literally just wearing a trench coat and jumper,” said Enid, growing annoyed. “Don’t diss my clothes just because you buy yours in the kids section.”

“Well excuse me for being fucking frugal Miss I-can’t-afford-a-sports-bra!”

“I’m already wearing one, you toy-sized poodle.”

Valen wore a nervous smile as the two people he’d considered his best friend at one point or another bickered on either side of him, wondering if he’d just made a terrible mistake.