Thunder cracked overhead, heavy and threatening. Darkness enveloped me like a warm cloak, tempering me from the cold that rained down. Figures moved around me, their faces unseen and their words unheard.

A flash of lightning lit the angry clouds in stark, white light, and I could see the depth to those clouds and the violence they contained. I stood alone, as if I was separate from the people and world around me, unnoticed.

I watched, rooted to where I stood, muscles refusing to cooperate. My body was not my own, and I was not me, and that understanding came from somewhere I couldn’t track. It soothed me, urging me to relax and watch.

The world around me began to change, though the storm never eased or moved. It stayed and kept on with its viscous downpour, just as I was kept exactly where I was, unable to move an inch.

Trees sprouted, only to be cut down with the next flash of light. I watched on as buildings rose from the ground in seconds, decaying just as fast as they’d sprouted. More people came, some stayed, others left. I watched them, too, as they appeared and disappeared. The young grew old within heartbeats, and soon enough I was watching hundreds, thousands of them, moving around me, through me, until they were no more.

New groups came, adding to the collective that had grown here. They thrived on the earth, and though their lives were nothing more than a few blinks to me, I knew they lived long, filled lives.

That same knowledge that came from elsewhere whispered into my ears, echoing the voices I could not hear. They spoke a language unknown to me, but their voices familiar, each one of them. Somehow I knew them, or what I was, knew them.

A profuse wave of emotions, feelings, and thoughts I’d never known flooded me, sweeping my soul into a torrent. I was everything and nothing, desperate to be seen by the world I stood in. I wanted to call out to them, to catch the attention of any I could see, but still my body could not cooperate. I remained frozen, forced to watch as the world kept speeding on without ever acknowledging me.

Why didn’t they see me?

Countless lifespans played before me, all of them too fast for me to keep track of. Internally, I was still swimming in that flood, trying to find my footing. The voices whispered to me slowly began to change, the language developing into elegant syllables and pious tones. Sentences began with one, but was continued on by others, each word spoken in a different voice.

The buildings grew taller, as if trying to touch those clouds. I feared what it would do to them, and found that I’d grown attached to these people, loving from far away. Walls were built, and trees that had stood beside me for eons were suddenly gone. In their place I found homes, made of pearly stone and thatched, wooden roofs.

I hadn’t been prepared to see them destroyed so suddenly. What once was a beautiful, growing city was now smoldering ash. New trees sprouted in its corpse, and soon enough, new people came.

Horror filled me as I watched the same story begin again and again. I couldn’t watch this anymore, but neither could I look away from it. I wanted this to stop. I needed it to stop.

“You’re not like them.”

Everything in me stilled. The battle I’d been fighting, and losing, suddenly vanished. My once immobile body began to move, but it wasn’t on my command. I was turning, putting my back to the world that didn’t see me.

A figure, untouched by this world like me, waited with outstretched arms, their face hidden in the shadow of their hood. Thunder cracked and rolled, and once it was over, those voices were gone with it. The storm, persistent as ever, remained overhead, but thankfully, I could no longer see nor hear the world I’d once wanted to be part of.

My soul was a battered, beaten thing, but the arms that waited for me promised to fix it. I went to the waiting figure, and internally, I wanted it too. “You’re not like them,” that voice said again, clearer than before, resounding through my empty body. This time it was comforting instead of jarring, and when those gentle arms wrapped around me, I felt nothing but peace.

She felt like the embodiment of a mother’s love, and she’d healed my soul with her embrace. “There will never be room for what is not wanted, Claudia,” she cooed into my ear, as if whispering words of encouragement. “You need to carve your space into the world if you are ever to be accepted. Bend it to your will, break it if you must,” she said.

Though my lips could form no words, she must’ve sensed my despair, and understood it. Her words made sense, but this knowledge was not shared with me. “You cling tightly to what most throw away gladly. You were my blood first, and although I can no longer call you mine, I am still part of you. Hold strong, my child, for it takes more than a strong spine to do what must be done.”

“Claudia!” Strong hands were shaking me, and I had to blink a few times before I registered what was happening. Galan was leaning over me, his hands on my shoulders and his face inches from mine.

“What’s going on?” The words left my mouth while I was still sitting up, taking in my surroundings. We were clearly still in the Underneath, and unfortunately, everything was still very, very real.

“Ascelin, woman, you sleep like the dead,” he growled, cursing in words I didn’t know afterwards. He spoke the language I’d dreamed of, and the realization had me cringing away from him.

“I am dead.” The venom in my voice came as a surprise for both of us. Pain pulsed within my skull, my mind fogged with what I’d seen. “Why’d you wake me?” I grumbled to him, pulling away to rub at my forehead.

“You were weeping,” he said, withdrawing from me. Galan straightened, and suddenly I was thinking about how I must look. If I’d been crying, there was sure to be blood staining my cheeks. I wanted to reach up and feel the evidence, but refrained. The stickiness on my face resisting movement was enough to tell me he was right.

My focus was coming back to me now, the fog slowly beginning to clear. I stared up at him, unmoving from my position on the bed. The cloth that hid his face was pulled down to his neck, his face twisted in concern. “What were you dreaming of?” He murmured quietly, as if more so asking himself than me.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” Truly, I didn’t know what to think. I’d never dreamed so vividly, nor something so emotional. I couldn’t pinpoint what had upset me from that dream, but it left a nasty feeling in my chest.

Carve your space into the world.

Galan loosed a long sigh before he sat on the edge of the bed beside my feet. He clasped his hands between his outstretched knees, elbows resting on powerful thighs. “We have some time before anyone is sent to fetch us. You only slept for a few hours.”

Despite the horrible dream and lingering stab of unexplained feelings, my pulse quickened. Time to do what? He wasn’t looking at me, making it harder to know what I should be thinking. “Does that mean you will answer my questions?”

“I can answer what would make sense if heard by others.” My face scrunched in confusion at his words, and without looking at me to see it, he clarified. “Most pure-bloods experience minimal memory loss, while some may lose their entire memory. It’s not uncommon to need to be. . . retaught. But you are not a pure-blood, Claudia, and neither are you a vampyr. I only dare to say those words now because this is our first moment truly alone.”

“What are you getting at?” A shiver raced over my skin, chilling me from the inside out. Slowly, I pushed myself into a sitting position, finding that my body was incredibly sore.

“I’m saying that I can answer some questions. I thought you’d be delighted at the idea,” he said, keeping his eyes fixed on a spot in the surrounding darkness. I felt an urge to go to him, comfort him, but I didn’t know why. “Your being here is incredibly dangerous. You are something the world has not seen, and more often than not, new things are killed simply for the unknown possibilities. No one likes uncertainties, not even you, Claudia.”

“I’m sorry, but exactly what about me is new?” But even as the words left my mouth, I knew exactly what he was talking about. My heart. My feelings. Both of those things were unbelievable if I was to be considered a vampyr, but I’d dutifully ignored that fact. Galan was forcing me to stare at it.

He turned to look at me, and his expression said exactly what I had thought. “You are new, Claudia. Everything about you. You were human-born which means you could never actually be a vampyr.”

“That doesn’t make sense. A vampyr is a mortal turned undead.” Galan watched me as I spoke, his expression one of concern, telling me I couldn’t be more wrong.

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“I forget how little the humans of Reddon are taught. But I suppose they’d all run away like you did, if they knew the truth.” Shame burned my cheeks, and I had to look away from him. “I cannot explain everything here, but know that humans are not the only inhabitants, Reddon or elsewhere. A human cannot become what you know as a vampyr.”

The question of what else is there was stuck in my throat. I knew I shouldn’t ask it, especially here, but I was beginning to feel ridiculously oblivious. How could I have lived for as long as I had, and not seen that the people around me were not human? “What is a pure-blood?” I asked him instead, my voice cracking around the whisper.

“I think it’d be better for me to first explain what a vampyr is.” He looked away from me again, leaving me to feel my shame in peace. “Vampyrism is a curse, Claudia. It was born of the selfish, inhumane desire for eternal youth. What once inhabited their bodies is gone. What’s left is a husk of them, a shell, to contain their insatiable hunger.”

“But they were not human to begin with?” My question came quietly, leaving my lips without thought. I was struggling to keep up with him, my thoughts somewhere between his voice and my dream. I wasn’t sure if I should’ve told him about it, instead keeping it to myself.

“No,” he confirmed. “They were not. Once we leave the Land of Men, I can explain everything else, but for now, this is what I can share with you.” From the corner of my eye, I watched as Galan righted himself, straightening his spine. “A pure-blood is the first descendant. The dark gift, as some might call it, comes directly from Ascelin, God of Death. Vampyrs are created from pure-bloods, not Death.”

“Is there a difference between a pure-blood and a vampyr?” My question must’ve been stupid, causing Galan to break into a sharp laugh. The sound jostled me, but I found his laugh to be comforting. It was the first time I’d heard it, deep and rumbling.

“Many,” he said, before sighing, his previous humor dissipating. “A pure-blood is not driven by the same hunger. Some can roam freely in the sunlight, while a vampyr cannot. Pure-bloods can go long periods of time without feeding, but a vampyr will need blood weekly to survive. Most pure-bloods have unnatural abilities, which I will explain later. I would rather not speak their secrets in this place.”

Galan paused, leaving us in silence for a long time. The haunting stillness of the Underneath was almost overwhelming, and I was sure I’d heard something scuffle across the stone floor a far distance away. In a much lower voice, he said, “Many have tried to transfer this curse into a human’s body. None have survived the process. The change is too violent, and the power is too strong for humans.”

“Then what-” I cut myself off, reminding myself I couldn’t voice those questions here. “Do you know?” I whispered. Do you know what I am? Was the real question, but I’d have to be vague here.

“I do,” he murmured. “That's why I left, I had to find out.” He reached for me then, and I allowed myself to be pulled to his side. An arm wrapped around my shoulders, his hand holding my wrist in a gentle manner. “I’ll help you, Claudia.” His thumb stroked over the back of my hand, my attention drawn to the movement. “But they cannot know you were human,” he rumbled softly, head dipping to speak lowly into my ear. “I won’t be able to protect you if they find out.”

I found myself leaning into him, resting against his muscled body. It should’ve felt wrong- I knew he was only protecting me, but Ascelin, I couldn’t help the feelings growing inside of me. I did feel somewhat ashamed of myself, like a silly child pining over an older, unavailable boy. “How am I to act like something I am not?” I asked him quietly, mindful of the noise I’d heard earlier.

“They won’t know any difference if you don’t tell them,” he said, holding me just a little tighter.

“Lothaire seemed to know, Galan. He said I have a human woman’s body,” I reminded him, thinking back on that moment. He’d been quite confident about it too, and he was right. I couldn’t hide my body, nor could I look like something I’d never seen. I voiced those thoughts, and Galan laughed again, the vibrations echoing through him and into me.

“Lothaire doesn’t know a damn thing about anything, Claudia, much less a woman’s body. I’m sure he’s seen one or two, being a Prince,” he said, his laugh still heard in the tone of his voice. “But not many choose to willingly crawl into the bed of royalty. Alas, the opinion of a vampyr or pure-blood doesn’t mean much to a mortal, though.”

“He wants to bed me on the basis of being a pure-blood?” My brows drew together in confusion. “Then why was he angry?”

“You were on my arm, that’s why,” he said. “Mirin’s bloodline is a hot-headed one, and it hasn’t seemed to skip any generation. It infuriated him to see a beautiful woman, pure-blood or not, that would not have him.”

Embarrassment flooded me. I’d never been called beautiful, not even pretty- not when the favored were anywhere you looked in Reddon. They were beautiful, ethereal almost. Even now I compared myself to them, and found nothing about me that could compete.

While they were tall and lithe, I was short, with curves that showed no matter what I wore. I’d never seen a single blemish or scar on their skin, while mine was covered in my sacrifices to Ascelin. I’d seen generations of the favored, ever young despite their staggering numbers of life. Entire families of them lived on, while the rest of us had withered and faded in the crop fields of Reddon.

I was being lied to, surely. No beauty could be had when sharing the earth with the favored. I couldn’t understand how Galan could hold me like this, even in the dark with no one else to witness. There was no point to it. “There’s no need to pretend right now, Galan,” I murmured softly, barely hearing myself.

“Do you believe I am lying, Claudia?” My silence must’ve been answer enough, his arm tightening around my shoulders. “Have you not seen yourself? Or the way men look at you? How I look at you?”

I didn’t know men looked at me in any certain way, much less Galan. Of course I could recognize when someone was lusting over me, like the man in Silbath. But attraction beyond that?

“Why do you think I killed Ferlan?” His breath fanned against my cheek, his lips tantalizingly close to my skin. “I wouldn’t kill a man for simply annoying me.” Annoying? Those men had shoved a spear through his chest. Ferlan’s death had been warranted, and Serin’s should’ve come next.

“But you’d kill him for how he looked at me?” I asked him, my tone as incredulous as I felt. I wasn’t going to fool myself into believing I was attractive enough to steal the glance of so many. I’d been the subject of an occasional lustful glance, but only when there wasn’t something better around.

“Yes,” he said without any hesitation. I listened to the faint beat of his heart, straining to see if I could detect any falseness, any doubt within him. I found nothing, though his emotions were unreadable to me. He was a hard man to figure out, and even now with some answers, I felt in the dark.

I’d never believed anything to be beyond Reddon, beyond the thick forest that created a barrier around the village. It’d never occurred to me to think there was anything besides humans and animals. I’d been sorely wrong, but now the what questions loomed over me. What walked the earth with me, and what am I?

“I still can’t pretend to be something I am not, and have no clue what they look like.” I began to pull away from him, and he let me go. We stared at each other in the darkness, and I felt my heart speed under his direct attention. What was happening to me? I’d never felt this way around anyone. “I don’t understand this, Galan. I can’t understand why you would want to be here when it is clearly fated I am not meant to be. I’ve been met with problems at every turn in this world, and I fear that I am a danger to others.”

A small smile pulled at his lips, almost looking sad. “And that’s part of what makes you so different, so new, Claudia.” He rose from the bed then, pulling the cloth back over the lower half of his face. Ascelin, he was attractive in more ways than just his looks. Galan had an aura around him, one that demanded respect, enough to make even a king bend to his will. I couldn’t imagine why he was at my side, or how I even looked next to a man like him. Was I to pretend to be his mistress, then? A toy?

The idea should’ve rocked me with shame, but it didn’t. A mistress was the side woman, never to replace the main woman, and it was so commonly looked down upon. But the thought of being Galan’s excited me, even if there was another woman somewhere out there, waiting for his return. Mama would’ve slapped me senseless, and I felt like I deserved it right about now.

“What am I to do, Galan?” I had to turn away from him, afraid my wanting would show in my eyes. I wiped at my cheeks, feeling the crusted blood peel off in crumbs.

“Stay by my side whenever you can. Do not wander alone, and do not trust anyone besides me. Mirin will be calling me into a meeting this morning, and you will not be allowed in with me. You will likely be passed into the care of his sons while I am unavailable, in which case, do your best not to piss them off, please.” I spun back around to glare at him, watching one thick brow raise on his face, as if I was proving his point.

“And if they ask about me? What then?” My arms crossed over my chest. I recognized I might appear like I was being childish, but truly I was overwhelmed. I had so many questions that I could not get the answers to, at least not yet, and I was expected to play part in a game I hadn’t learned the rules of.

“Your name is Claudia Aevennar, and you have no memory of your prior life. You know only that you are eighty years old, and you belong to the house of blood.” House of blood? It might’ve been funny, considering I survived on the blood of others, but my laughter was quelled by the abrupt admission of even more things I didn’t know about.

“House of blood?” I asked him, my voice rising with my disbelief. I felt a wave of panic wash over me. There was no way I could do this. “Are there other houses? What is a house?”

“I can’t answer that here,” he sighed. Suddenly, Galan went stiff, muscles tensing as his body turned towards the door. “Someone’s coming,” he said quietly to me, and as soon as he’d said it, I could hear them too.

Metal armor clinking, the sound bouncing down empty hallways. There were multiple of them, likely a handful of soldiers sent to collect us. I’d been mildly surprised they hadn’t been stationed down here with us, but I’d come to realize there was no need.

We were underground, without any windows. The only exit was the entrance, which was the shining keep of Marie’s Revenge. We couldn’t have escaped if we wanted to, though it seemed Galan had business to attend to here.

“How am I supposed to act?” I whispered harshly to him, keeping my voice lower than what a normal person could hear.

“You’ve been around them your whole life, Claudia,” Galan said before turning his back to me and opening the door to greet the soldiers.