The first thing I noticed was the pain.

Netty’s claws were digging into my neck, her grip fierce and unrelenting. Nix was the same, his talons biting into my shoulder as his fiery light pulsed erratically. But the pain wasn’t just physical - it was in my mind, a sharp, insistent pressure that I quickly realized wasn’t just my own.

I could hear them - or rather, I could understand them. Their thoughts, their emotions, their fierce, burning focus on me. It was overwhelming, a cacophony of fear and determination that cut through the lingering fog in my brain.

The second thing I noticed was the light.

Before me, where the curtain had once been an impenetrable shimmer, now stood a creature of impossible majesty. She was both small and immense, her dual nature unfolding before my strange sight like a living tapestry.

Her smaller form was that of a young woman, petite and delicate, her features ageless and otherworldly. But layered over her, intertwined with her human shape, was the unmistakable form of a feathered dragon.

She was immense, her serpentine body coiled with an effortless grace that spoke of both power and wisdom. Her scales shimmered with an iridescent light that burned against my vision, each facet of her being a living flame. She was a legend brought to life, a creature of myth made real.

Her pattern was blinding, a brilliant, searing presence that overwhelmed my senses. I had to turn away, my head spinning as the heat of her brilliance threatened to consume me.

I staggered back, my legs trembling beneath me as I tried to process what I’d just seen. The Hunger was forgotten, replaced by a bone-deep awe that left me breathless.

Netty chirruped softly, her claws loosening slightly as if to reassure me. Nix’s light steadied, his presence a warm anchor against the storm of emotions swirling within me.

And through it all, the creature - no, the dragon lady - watched me, her gaze burning with an intensity that felt as though it could see through every layer of my being.

I gotta admit, I was a bit preoccupied. And I sure hoped that she couldn’t read minds.

Who isn’t tempted by a gorgeous femme fatale? I mean, I may be a vampire, but I’m not dead.

The impression of her form was forever etched into my soul, seared into my Sight in a way that would never fade. I would later come to understand that the Sight, as remarkable as it was, held dangers of its own. I once heard that some things, once seen, can never be unseen. And the spectrum of what I had witnessed spanned both beauty and terror -an unrelenting dichotomy.

Her aura glowed with hues of amber gold, molten silver, gleaming platinum, and shifting shades of jade, a palette so vivid and otherworldly that it haunted the edges of my vision even when I closed my eyes.

It wasn’t just her physical form that burned into my memory -it was the essence of her, the sheer weight of her Presence. Thankfully, her aura also carried kindness within its intensity, though it was tempered with a fierce, predatory power. She was the embodiment of duality: humility and pride, beauty and horror, power and restraint.

She was yin to her own yang, a paradox made deified flesh.

And my mind was scrambled as it tried to process what I had seen. It was like staring directly into lightning as it strikes your feet -it was overwhelming, awe-inspiring, and utterly terrifying.

I could only imagine that this was what mortals felt when standing before a god, and the realization chilled me to my core.

“No need to be fearful. I offer you no harm, Light Walker,” she said, her voice a soothing melody that carried a gravity I couldn’t ignore.

“No offense, ma’am,” I managed, my voice shaky despite my efforts to steady it. “But you’re… incredible to behold. Awesome in all meanings of the word.”

She inclined her head slightly, acknowledging my words with a faint smile. “Why, thank you, young one.” She had a dimple -it was subtle, but it was there. If life was an anime, my nose would have been gushing.

Thankfully, as she spoke I felt her presence dim slightly, as though she were deliberately lowering the intensity of her existence. It was like watching a sun retract its light to reveal the stars beneath. The overwhelming brilliance faded, and soon I found myself able to look at her fully once more.

Her form now was no less striking, though it had taken on a more grounded appearance. She was, in a word, stunning. Her features carried an elvish elegance: high cheekbones, a pert nose, and a cupid’s bow mouth that seemed to curve into an ever-present hint of a smile. Her eyes, deep and shimmering like sea opals, were framed by delicate, distinctly pointed ears.

Her skin was an ethereal alabaster, smoother than silk, its radiance softened by the faintest hint of warmth. It paired perfectly with her platinum blonde hair, which cascaded down her back in waves that shimmered with a light of their own.

Yet despite her beauty, there was an otherworldly quality to her that placed her so far out of my league I couldn’t truly begin to contemplate her in any... conventional sense.

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I know what I said before. But seriously, a goddess isn’t someone you just walk up to and hit on. Not unless you want to get smoted. It wasn’t that she was unapproachable, don’t get me wrong. It was that she was untouchable, a being whose very existence defied mundane perceptions.

And she was standing before me as naked as the day Eve was born.

“Uh… no offense again, ma’am, but, uh…” I cleared my throat, my cheeks heating in a way that felt both juvenile and inevitable -the metaphorical nosebleed draining me dry, “You’re… naked.”

She arched a delicate brow, her expression unreadable but faintly amused. “Oh? Does that bother you?” She tilted her head slightly, as though studying me anew. “I often forget that you mortals have such considerations of the natural form. No matter -I will respect your sensibilities.”

With a casual wave of her hand, clothing appeared as if conjured from the air itself. A toga-like robe wrapped loosely around her frame, its fabric so thin and diaphanous that it barely pretended to offer modesty. Still, it was enough to alleviate the awkwardness.

“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, clearing my throat again. “Would you mind answering a question?”

“Ask,” she said simply, folding her hands in front of her and fixing me with that piercing, opalescent gaze.

“How is it that I can see you?” I gestured to my face, running a hand over the scars that marked it. “I’ve lost the use of my eyes, but somehow I can still see you. And not just see -you’re… vivid.”

Her eyes narrowed slightly, not in malice but in thought. “That is something, isn’t it?” she murmured. “Let me take a closer look.”

She stepped toward me, and I caught a whiff of her scent -a heady blend of gardenias and honey, undercut by an elusive metallic tang. It was intoxicating and strange, a fragrance that intensified as she moved closer. She was so near now that I could feel the faint warmth radiating from her skin, the ethereal glow of her aura brushing against me like a whisper.

Have you ever heard a cat doing its best impression of a chainsaw? Yeah, that was me.

Without asking for permission -because I doubted she needed it- she reached up and traced her fingers along the scars that crisscrossed my face. Her touch was cool, feather-light, and yet it carried an undeniable weight, as though she were not merely examining but understanding.

Her fingers brushed over each scar with a deliberateness that made my skin tingle, her touch leaving a trail of sensation that was both electric and oddly soothing. Then, with equal care, she placed her hands on either side of my head, her fingers pressing gently against my temples.

Her thumbs moved to rest lightly on my closed eyelids, and for a moment, I felt a strange warmth seep into me, nothing physical -but aethereal. And I felt it resonate with the core of my being.

Finally, she shifted her hands to the center of my forehead, her fingertips pressing gently against the space just above my brow. A faint hum vibrated through me, like the distant echo of a meditation chime, and then it was gone.

She stepped back, her hands falling to her sides as she nodded, apparently satisfied with whatever conclusion she’d reached. “Interesting,” she said softly, though her words carried the weight of unspoken thoughts.

“What?” I asked, my voice rasping slightly. “Tell it to me straight, doc. What’s the prognosis? How long do I have to live?”

She didn’t answer right away. Instead, her gaze shifted to my shoulders, where Netty and Nix perched, their small forms bristling with tension. They watched her with a fierce intensity, their glowing eyes never leaving her face. I could feel their combined attention now, a steady pulse in the back of my mind that mirrored the hum I’d felt during her touch.

She smiled faintly, her expression softening as she studied them. “Your companions are remarkable,” she said, her voice tinged with quiet admiration. “Their bond to you is strong. Fierce.”

Her words lingered in the air, and I couldn’t help but feel a surge of pride at her acknowledgment. Netty chirped softly, her tail tightening around my neck as if to affirm her loyalty. Nix’s fiery glow flared briefly, a silent declaration of his own.

“My, my, my,” the woman -no, the dragon lady, damnit- said, her voice lilting with curiosity and an accent that I couldn’t quite place. “That is interesting. I propose a trade. I will answer your questions, if you answer mine.”

“Deal,” I said, without hesitation. “Go for it. Ask away.”

She reached up, her movements impossibly fluid, and scratched both Netty and Nix behind their heads. The reaction from my companions was immediate and unguarded -Netty let out a delighted trill, her sinuous body pressing into her touch, while Nix cooed softly, his fiery light pulsing in contentment.

For beings who rarely let down their guard, they were utterly at ease with her, and I felt a pang of wonder at the bond she seemed to share with them instantly.

“How did you end up with such wonderful companions as these?” she asked, her tone light but carrying an undertone of genuine interest.

“That’s easy,” I said, glancing at the two of them. “I got lost on a world of storms. My friend followed me there and needed guidance, so she called out for help. These two answered the call, and -well, they decided they liked us enough to stick around.”

Her lips curved into a faint smile. “Interesting. And this friend of yours… I assume they were the one who led you here, to the University?”

I nodded, adjusting my stance under her unrelenting gaze. “Yeah, Jinx is her name.”

“Where is she now?”

“She said she was going into the University, whatever that is -no offense- to find someone who could let me in. Told me to stay put.” I shrugged. “So, here I am. Waiting.”

“I see,” she said, her gaze flicking back to Netty and Nix. “And she left you alone with these beauties to await her return.”

I nodded again, resisting the urge to fidget. “Umm, your turn, ma’am.”

She tilted her head, the movement both graceful and predatory. “Oh yes, of course. And Declan, please, do call me by my name. I am Alera, Keeper and Guardian of the University.”

“Nice to meet you, Alera,” I said, dipping my head in an attempt at politeness. Her name suited her -aethereal, timeless, and just a little intimidating. What a mouthful.

“So, Declan,” she continued, her gaze sharp but not unkind, “why are you here, seeking entrance into the University?”

“Honestly, I’m not really sure,” I admitted, rubbing the back of my neck. “Originally, I was looking for a cure for my… recent affliction. I’d heard about this impossible way to fix it, but I couldn’t figure out how to even start. Then Jinx said she might know of a place that could give me an alternative. That’s why we set out for the University -because she said someone, or something, here might be able to help.”

Her gaze didn’t waver as she spoke, and I had the unnerving sense that she was weighing every word I said. “And this affliction,” she asked, her voice soft but probing. “What is it?”

I hesitated for half a heartbeat, then sighed. “I recently joined the Bram Stoker LARPers Fanclub.”

When that got no response, I tried again, “I’ve been cursed with awesome, though I’ve developed a sudden aversion to garlic. And I love Italian food.”

Still nothing.

“Wow, tough audience,” I muttered under my breath. Taking a breath, I decided to stop beating around the bush. “I died..."