I don't blame him—Red. Not really. I understand why he thought leaving me behind was the right call. He was trying to protect me. But understanding doesn't mean it doesn't hurt. It doesn't mean it doesn't bother me.

I thought we'd moved past this. After everything we've been through, after I explained how it felt to be left behind, I thought he'd never do it again. That he'd trust me to stand by his side.

But here I am. On the sidelines. Again.

Of course, Brenelor and Udis couldn't be more different. Brenelor trusts me, believes in me. Udis... well, Udis only saw me as a pawn. But still, the act of being left behind feels the same. It stings. It makes you question your worth.

Have you ever been fucked over by someone? Survived it, only to decide you'd do everything in your power to make sure it never happened again, that you'd do everything in your power to make those people responsible, pay? To take control of your own life and never let anyone sideline, or abduct you again? Only for someone you love—someone who should know better—to do it anyway, taking away whatever stride you thought you had?

That's where I'm at.

I've spent my life looking out for Red. I was the one keeping him out of trouble, being the steady figure he needed. And now, somehow, the roles have reversed. Now, he thinks I'm the one who needs protecting, the one who needs to be kept safe.

I tell myself things will change now that I have my powers. Maybe Red will finally see me as an equal. Maybe he'll trust me to exist in the world again. But deep down, I'm not so sure.

Brenelor wasn't wrong. As a girl, I'm going to have to work harder, push longer, and fight for every inch of respect. I'll have to prove myself in ways Red and Domnik never had to.

But you know what? That's fine. Because I will.

If I want to be the best, I can't wait for permission. I can't sit on the sidelines. I have to take what I want.

Life is like lightning—unpredictable, untamed, and fierce. But it doesn't control me. I control it.

The first rays of morning light spill through my window, cutting across the floor in golden beams. I take a deep breath, letting the electricity hum in my veins.

I stand and make my way to the bathroom, washing off the remnants of restless dreams and doubt.

When I step back into my room, I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My hair is damp, my face clean, but my eyes—they look different. Steadier. Stronger.

I adjust my clothes, squaring my shoulders. No more hesitating. No more letting anyone—even Red—decide where I belong.

I push open the door and step into the hallway. The air feels alive, buzzing with the quiet promise of the day ahead.

Brenelor is waiting for me near the staircase, already dressed and composed. She raises an eyebrow when she sees me.

"You're up early," she says.

I nod. "I figured it's time I stop wasting daylight."

Her smile is small, but there's approval in her eyes. "Good. We've got a lot to do today."

"Then let's get started."

She doesn't hesitate, turning on her heel as I follow her down the corridor. Today is the day I begin to take control of my life. Of my power. Of my destiny.

And nothing—not Red, not doubt, not the past—will stop me.

-

Over the next few days, training consumes every waking moment. From the first light of dawn to the fading glow of dusk, Brenelor pushes me to my limits. If we're not sparring or refining my control over lightning, we're in the city, immersed in the lives of its people.

At first, I don't understand why she insists on spending so much time in the city. But it's clear she's being intentional. Every moment here feels like more than just charity—it feels like reconnaissance, like she's keeping a watchful eye on something.

I can't shake the thought that this has something to do with the vampire Red, Domnik, and I encountered. Brenelor hasn't mentioned it since, but the unspoken tension lingers in the air.

And yet, when we're in the city, it's as though her guard drops. She smiles more freely, laughs with the merchants, and listens intently to the concerns of the townsfolk. It's almost like she's one of them—a far cry from the commanding Empress who rules from the palace.

Watching her like this, I begin to see the person beneath the title. Brenelor Stormcrown isn't just a ruler. She's someone who genuinely cares about the people under her protection.

But even in her moments of ease, I can sense an underlying vigilance. Her eyes flicker toward every shadowy alley, every stranger's face. She's scanning for something—or someone.

"Do you always do this?" I ask one day as we help a carpenter repair the roof of his shop.

She looks up at me, a hammer in hand. "Do what?"

"Spend so much time out here, with the people."

She smiles faintly, driving a nail into place. "These people are the heart of the empire, Alyse. It's easy to forget that from a throne. I come here to remind myself who I'm fighting for. To see their struggles, their joys, their lives."

I nod, but I can't shake the feeling there's more to it than she's letting on.

As the days pass, the city begins to feel almost like a second home. The streets, once unfamiliar, become etched into my memory. The faces of merchants, blacksmiths, and children playing in the square start to feel like friends.

But even as I grow more comfortable, there's a nagging sense of unease. The vampire we encountered on the streets wasn't just any monster—it was deliberate, calculated. And if Brenelor is worried, I know I should be too.

-

One evening, after the sun has dipped below the horizon and the streets are bathed in lantern light, we walk back toward the palace. The city is quieter at night, the hustle of the day replaced by a calm hum of distant conversation and the occasional bark of a dog.

"I've been meaning to ask," I say, breaking the silence. "What are we really looking for out here?"

Brenelor glances at me, her expression unreadable. For a moment, I think she's going to dismiss the question, but then she sighs.

"There's a storm brewing, Alyse. Not just the kind you control, but something darker. I can feel it in the air, see it in the way people are on edge."

"The vampire?" I ask.

She nods. "That was just the beginning. Vampires are cunning, Alyse. They don't move alone, and they don't act without purpose. Whatever Muthos is planning, it's starting to unfold—and we need to be ready."

A chill runs down my spine at the mention of Muthos, the god of vampires and dark magic. I grip my necklace hanging from my neck.

"What do we do?" I ask.

Brenelor's gaze hardens. "We train. We prepare. And we watch. Because when the storm finally breaks, we'll need to be stronger than ever."

Her words linger in my mind as we approach the palace gates. The air feels heavier, the shadows deeper. Whatever's coming, I know it's only a matter of time before it finds us.

The sound of horses echoes sharply through the narrow streets, the rhythmic pounding of hooves growing louder with every passing second. Brenelor and I whirl around in unison, the tension palpable. As the riders come into view, the flicker of torchlight reveals Red and Domnik astride their mounts, their faces taut with urgency.

"What are you doing back already?" Brenelor demands as they pull their horses to an abrupt halt before us. Her voice is sharp, cutting through the night air. "Where is Kylen?"

Red slides off his horse, his movements rushed and unsteady. "We tracked him down," he says, his voice tight with worry, "but, Brenelor, it's bad. We had to come tell you immediately."

-

The atmosphere in the meeting room is stifling. The warm glow of the sconces lining the walls does little to ease the weight of the conversation. Brenelor sits at the head of the mahogany table, her elbows braced against its polished surface, hands covering her face. Her frustration is palpable, radiating off her in waves.

She lets out a guttural groan before slamming her hands against the table. "Fuck!" The expletive rings out, startling me. The room falls into an uneasy silence.

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Red and Domnik sit across from her, shifting uncomfortably. Neither of them meets her gaze, and the air between us feels thick enough to cut.

Brenelor finally breaks the silence, her voice low and dangerous. "So, let me get this straight. Muthos is harnessing the power of the Celestial Gate—the energy bleeding from it—and it's turning his kin into... what? Mutated versions of themselves?"

Domnik leans forward, gesturing with his hands as if trying to clarify. "Well, harnessing might not be the right word. It's not like he's controlling it. It's more like the energy is saturating the air down there. It just... happens to them when they're near it. They absorb it somehow."

Brenelor's eyes narrow, her fingers tapping against the table as she processes the information. "And Kylen?"

Red exhales heavily, running a hand through his hair. "Kylen went into the gate."

The statement hangs in the air like a storm cloud.

"At least that's what Muthos said," Red adds quickly. "Something tells me he wasn't lying. We didn't find a body, so... he's alive, right?"

Brenelor leans back in her chair, her lips pressing into a thin line. "Sure," she says with a hollow shrug. "Yeah, let's go with that. Hope for the best."

The room feels heavier now, the gravity of the situation sinking in. I glance at Red, his expression a mix of guilt and determination. Domnik stares at the table, his jaw clenched, while Brenelor's eyes remain fixed on some unseen point beyond us.

"What do we do now?" I finally ask, breaking the silence.

Brenelor straightens in her chair, her commanding presence returning. "We prepare for the worst. If Muthos is using the gate's energy to strengthen his forces, it's only a matter of time before he moves against us directly. We can't afford to sit and wait for that to happen."

Domnik nods. "What about Kylen? If he's still alive in there—"

"We'll figure that out," Brenelor interrupts, her tone sharp. "But we don't know what condition he's in—or if he's even the same person anymore."

The words send a chill down my spine. The thought of Kylen, twisted by the gate's energy like the vampires we encountered, is almost too much to bear.

"First," Brenelor continues, "we need to secure the city. If Muthos is bold enough to reveal his plans, he's not far from acting on them. I want every able-bodied soldier ready. We'll double the patrols and reinforce the walls."

"And us?" Red asks, his voice steady despite the tension.

Brenelor's gaze sharpens. "You and Domnik will scout the surrounding provinces. I want to know if there's any sign of movement—vampires, monsters, anything out of the ordinary. Alyse will stay here with me. There's more I need to teach her before she's ready for what's coming."

I feel a mixture of pride and anxiety at her words. Staying behind again feels like another sidelining, but I know she's right. I'm not ready—not yet.

"Understood," Red says, his tone firm. His eyes glance to me with question though.

Brenelor nods. "We don't have time to waste. Whatever Muthos is planning, we need to be three steps ahead."

As the meeting ends, I can't help but feel the weight of what's coming. The storm isn't on the horizon anymore—it's here. And we're standing in its path.

Brenelor stands abruptly, her chair scraping against the floor as she strides out of the room. Her movements are sharp, deliberate, the tension radiating from her like heat off a forge. She doesn't say another word, and I know why. She's pissed—because she didn't see this coming. She feels responsible.

The silence she leaves behind is deafening.

Red turns to me, his expression wary but tinged with curiosity. "What did she mean by 'more I need to teach her'? What has Brenelor been teaching you?"

I hesitate for a moment before raising my hand. Sparks of lightning crackle between my fingertips, the faint hum of power filling the space between us. "Her powers," I say, meeting his gaze. "They were mine. It's a long story, but she returned them to me."

Red's face tightens, his features hardening into something sharp and unyielding. "Why? Alyse, come on. You can't be serious."

I blink, stunned by the immediate anger in his voice. "You're angry with me?"

His jaw clenches. "We talked about this, Alyse. There's no place for you out there. It's dangerous!"

I feel something snap inside me, a dam breaking under the weight of frustration and pent-up anger. My voice rises as I shoot back, "Well, that's too damn bad, Red. I'm not the same helpless girl who got abducted by a Daem last year. I don't need your protection!"

His face twists, his lips parting as if to argue, but I don't give him the chance. "If you actually cared how I was doing, you'd ask! You wouldn't just sit there, juggling your own traumatic thoughts and lashing out at me. You'd ask if I was okay!"

The words hang in the air like a blade suspended between us. Red's expression falters, his rigid stance softening, but it's too little, too late. He's speechless, and I can see the guilt flickering in his eyes.

Domnik shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting between us. He looks like he's trying to decide whether he should stay or leave, his unease palpable.

I don't wait for either of them to speak. I push my chair back and stand, the legs scraping loudly against the floor. Without another word, I storm out of the room, my heart pounding as anger and hurt swirl inside me.

The hallway feels endless as I march down it, my fists clenched tightly at my sides. My thoughts are a chaotic storm, flashes of Red's face and his words mingling with memories of everything I've endured. The helplessness, the fear, the frustration—it all bubbles to the surface, threatening to spill over.

I don't stop walking until I'm outside, the cool evening air washing over me. The city is quiet, the streets dimly lit by lanterns, and for a moment, I stand still, letting the silence calm the chaos in my mind.

But it doesn't.

I clench my fists, sparks flaring in my hands. The electricity surges, crackling in the air around me. I want to scream, to let it all out, but I don't. Instead, I focus on the energy coursing through me, letting it hum beneath my skin like a reminder of who I've become.

I'm not that helpless girl anymore. And I refuse to let anyone—Red included—make me feel that way.

"Alyse," a voice calls softly behind me.

I turn sharply, my lightning flaring before I see Domnik standing a few paces away. His hands are raised slightly, as if to show he means no harm.

"What?" I snap, the edge in my voice sharper than I intended.

"I just..." He hesitates, his usual cocky demeanor replaced with something uncertain. "I thought you might need someone to talk to. Red can be... well, Red."

I sigh, some of my anger ebbing away. "What's the point, Domnik? He doesn't get it. He doesn't see me as anything other than a burden to protect."

Domnik steps closer, his eyes steady on mine. "Then show him you're not."

The simplicity of his words catches me off guard.

He shrugs. "You've got power now, Alyse. Maybe it's time to stop waiting for Red to believe in you. Start proving it to yourself instead."

For a moment, I don't say anything. Then I nod, the fire in me rekindled, not by anger but by determination.

Domnik smirks faintly, his usual confidence returning. "Come on. Let's head back inside before Brenelor sends a search party after both of us."

I turn back toward the palace, a renewed sense of purpose settling over me. I'm done waiting for approval. I'm going to carve my own path, and if Red—or anyone else—can't keep up, that's their problem.

I stop and glance over my shoulder, noticing Domnik has fallen behind. He's standing still, his gaze fixed on the shadows stretching across the quiet city. The faint glow of lanterns highlights the sharp angles of his face, but his expression is unreadable.

"Are you coming?" I ask, my voice cutting through the silence.

Domnik doesn't move right away. He shakes his head slowly, his eyes still lingering on the darkness ahead. "No," he says, turning to meet my gaze with a faint smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. "There's something I need to take care of first."

For a moment, I hesitate, sensing there's more behind his words than he's letting on. But I don't press him. Not now.

I nod, my voice softer than before. "Don't be too long."

His smile widens, but it still feels like a mask. "Wouldn't dream of it."

I linger for a second longer, then turn and make my way back through the palace gates. The heavy iron creaks shut behind me, but I can't shake the uneasy feeling settling in my chest. Something about the way Domnik looked at the city, as if he was searching for—or running from—something, doesn't sit right with me.

But I push the thought aside and keep walking, the echoes of my footsteps filling the empty halls as I head toward my room.

———Domnik———

I step into the shadowed alley, my eyes scanning the dim light for the flicker of movement I thought I saw. My instincts prickle. There's a tension in the air, like a bowstring pulled taut.

"So, he's like us?" The voice cuts through the quiet, more a statement than a question.

I turn sharply to see Hail leaning against the wall, his figure barely concealed in the shadows. The pale fabric of his outfit glows faintly under the moonlight.

"When you're trying to blend in," I say, crossing my arms, "maybe try something other than all white. I could see you from the gates."

Hail ignores my jab, stepping forward, his eyes shining through his mask, cold and unwavering. "Why are you with him?"

"Why do you care?" I counter, keeping my tone steady.

His lip curls into a sneer. "Trying to recruit him for your mother?"

I sigh, exasperated, throwing my hands into the air. "How many times do I have to tell you, Hail? I'm not working for her. I hate her."

He doesn't flinch, his voice sharp with accusation. "Oh, you and I both know that's bullshit, Domnik. You're a Daem."

"In blood, yes," I say, my voice low, steady. "But not in heart."

"Stay away from him!" Hail snaps, his words like thunder.

I take a step forward, my expression hardening. "You know, Hail, have you ever considered how much good you could be doing right now if you joined us? Just for once, stop obsessing over me and my bloodline. There are bigger problems right now than your vendetta."

"Nothing is more important than keeping that boy out of your mother's hands," he growls, his eyes blazing with an intensity I've come to expect.

"Jealousy, that's what this is," I say with a smirk. "You're jealous. Jealous that Red has killed not one god but two—and you couldn't even manage to take down one when you were his age."

Hail's face twists in rage. "You helped him kill Galagon! And yeah, he killed Udis on his own, but of course he did. Udis was a raving lunatic. Vermidia is different. She's calculated, always ten steps ahead. She's—"

"She's not invincible," I interrupt, my voice steady. "And if you stopped brooding for two seconds, you'd realize we could actually stand a chance against her. Together. Imagine how much easier it would be with us. Imagine the good you could do."

I pause, letting the weight of my words settle before delivering the final blow. "Think of how much you could atone for... all those people you killed on Zenot."

The air shifts, and I see it before I hear it—the flicker of rage in his eyes, the tightening of his jaw. He rushes me with a roar, his anger erupting like a storm.

I barely have time to brace myself before he's on me, his speed and strength forcing me back against the wall. His fist slams into the brick behind me, just missing my face. His hand glowing with white frost.

"Hail, enough!" I shout, shoving him back, but his eyes are wild, and his breathing is ragged.

"You don't get to bring up Zenot!" he snarls, shoving me harder against the wall. "You don't know what it's like to live with the blood of innocents on your hands. You don't know—"

"I don't?" I snap, cutting him off. "I've had to live with the legacy of my entire family. With people like you looking at me like I'm a monster the second they hear my name. Don't you dare act like you're the only one carrying weight, Hail."

His grip falters for a moment, and I take the opportunity to push him back. He stumbles, his breathing uneven as he glares at me.

"This isn't about me. Or you. Or even Red," I say, my voice calmer now but still firm. "This is about stopping whatever is coming. If you can't see that... if you can't get over yourself long enough to help us—then what the hell are you even fighting for?"

Hail glares at me, his fists still clenched, but his breathing slows. For a moment, it seems like he might lash out again. But then, without a word, he steps back, his face unreadable through the mask.

"This isn't over," he mutters before disappearing into the shadows.

I let out a long breath, shaking off the tension, and glance toward the palace gates. I don't know if I got through to him, but at least he's not throwing punches anymore. For now.

With one last glance into the empty alley, I turn and make my way back inside. Whatever happens next, I know Hail won't stay on the sidelines for long. One way or another, he'll make his choice. And we'll all have to deal with the fallout.