On a deeper level, Maeve seems to be grappling with existential questions of identity and self-worth. By embracing the role of the debased "whore", she avoids the psychic pain of acknowledging her intrinsic human value. It's a self-destructive downward spiral - the more she degrades herself, the more her self-loathing intensifies, perpetuating the cycle. Only by confronting her core beliefs about being unlovable and unworthy can she begin to heal.

Of course, this is all conjecture based on my limited interactions. Maeve's psyche is undoubtedly a complex tapestry woven from years of compounded traumas and deprivations. Unraveling those threads and facilitating her journey towards wholeness would require intensive long-term psychotherapy...resources sadly lacking in this primitive world.

For now, the cruel reality is that Maeve's best hope lies in being a vessel - her womb a commodity to trade for a semblance of security and status as Oisin's broodmare. A path just as tragic as the one that led her here, but perhaps one that can offer fleeting moments of tenderness and belonging amidst the suffering.

I shake my head, pushing aside the melancholy thoughts. As an outsider inhabiting this childish form, there is little I can do to intervene or offer aid. Maeve's fate, like that of so many others in this unforgiving world, is beyond my power to influence. I am but a passive observer, for good or ill.

Still, I cannot help but feel a pang of sorrow for the broken young woman. In her, I see the crushed dreams and innocence of all the world's wounded children writ large. If I cannot salve those psychic scars directly, perhaps I can find another way to strike a blow against the cruelties that create such damage. A path to ensure no more bright spirits are snuffed out before their time.

I glance sidelong at Erik, his powerful frame exuding an aura of rugged determination. For good or ill, he may prove the key to unlocking a better future...for Maeve, for Aislin, for us all. I must bide my time and keep my wits sharp. The dance has only just begun.

As Erik and I stroll along the dirt path leading away from the village, I decide to ask about Sean. "Erik, have you seen my uncle Sean? I haven't seen him since he...played with papa." I put on my best childlike curiosity.

Erik chuckles, a deep rumbling sound. "Aye, the lad has been punished for his transgressions. He's on watch duty for the next few months, but he'll return eventually."

Watch duty? I tilt my head quizzically. "What's watch duty?"

"The church has assigned Sean to patrol the village borders and keep watch for any foul beasts or supernatural threats," Erik explains patiently. "A fitting penance for one trained in the ways of the Tuatha hunters."

Ah, so Sean is being disciplined for his brutal beating of that drunken wretch Oisin. Not that the bastard didn't deserve far worse, but I suppose the church must maintain some semblance of order. Even if their notions of justice are laughably antiquated.

We soon arrive at Erik's cottage, the quaint structure looking quite inviting amidst the winter landscape. As we approach the sturdy oak door, Erik pauses and turns to face me.

"Now little one, I must warn you - there is a...guest residing within my home at present. A vampiress, to be precise." His emerald eyes glitter with some unreadable emotion. "You would do well to keep your wits about you and mind your manners whilst in her presence."

I can't help widening my eyes dramatically at his words, feigning childlike surprise. But inwardly, I'm grinning with anticipation. Of course I know exactly which vampiress has taken up residence here - the exotic, predatory Dumitra herself!

Erik pushes open the door and gestures for me to enter first. I scamper inside, my little boots thudding against the wooden floor as I take in the cozy main room. That's when the bedroom door swings open and out strides...Dumitra, garbed in some sort of sheer, clinging nightgown that leaves precious little to the imagination.

I can't stifle my giggle at the sight. "Why, if it isn't the nice lady who gave me those pretty tattoos!" I exclaim in my best imitation of a childish lilt.

Dumitra regards me with a wicked smile, her crimson lips curving in amusement. With effortless, boneless grace, she crouches down until we're at eye level. Her burning ruby gaze bores into mine as she lets out a low, throaty chuckle.

"So we meet again, little one," she purrs, her voice like dark velvet caressing my senses. "Shall we see who has the stronger will this time?"

With that, Dumitra simply...stares at me, unblinking. I return her intense look, determined not to be the first to falter. My eyes start to water and sting, but I grit my teeth and hold her smoldering gaze.

An eternity seems to pass before my vision finally blurs and I'm forced to blink rapidly, breaking the contest. Dumitra throws back her head with a rich peal of laughter.

"Well well, it seems I am the victor once more!" she declares in a tone of wicked delight. "Though you fought admirably for one so young, little lamb."

Erik clears his throat, his expression unreadable. "You asked that I bring the girl, Dumitra. Now what purpose do you have for her?"

"Patience, good sir," the vampiress replies with an indulgent smile. "All shall be revealed anon."

With that cryptic remark, Dumitra rises in one fluid motion and glides back into the bedroom. A few moments later, she reemerges holding an unfurled piece of parchment. Crossing to the heavy oak table, she lays the document flat and beckons me over with one crimson-tipped finger.

I clamber up onto one of the chairs, peering at the parchment curiously. That's when Dumitra produces a small grey gemstone, holding it up so I can see.

"Open wide, little one," she instructs in a silken tone. "I want you to place this emerald under your tongue and simply...play with it awhile."

I blink at her owlishly. "Why should I do that?" I ask, all childlike innocence.

Dumitra's full lips curve in an indulgent smile. "It's a small test, to gauge your sensitivity to the flows of magic. Nothing more."

Well, when she puts it like that...Obediently, I part my lips and Dumitra slips the smooth gemstone into my mouth. It feels cool and oddly heavy on my tongue as I begin rolling it around experimentally with my lips and the tip of my tongue.

The stone has no discernible taste or odor, but there's a faint...vibration to it, a subtle thrumming that seems to reverberate through my very bones. I continue toying with the emerald, swishing it from one cheek to the other as I swirl it around with my tongue.

After what seems an eternity, Dumitra holds up one elegant hand. "Enough, child. Now spit it back into your palm for me."

I do as instructed, the gemstone emerging from my mouth slick with saliva. Dumitra plucks it from my outstretched hand and holds it up, turning it this way and that to catch the rays of morning sunlight filtering through the windows.

I squint at the stone, and that's when I notice it - the dull grey hue is shifting, darkening to a deep crimson flecked with inky black. Dumitra lets out another of her throaty chuckles, her ruby eyes glittering.

"Most intriguing..." she murmurs, more to herself than anyone.

Erik frowns, his thick brows drawing together. "What does it mean, this change in the gem's coloring?"

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Dumitra turns that burning gaze on me, and I fight back a shiver at the naked hunger blazing there.

"It means, good sir, that your little bride-to-be is as finely attuned to the flows of magic as a pregnant woman is to certain...aromas." Her full lips curve in a predatory smile.

Dumitra's crimson lips curve into a wicked smile as she regards me. "Lile is growing up, and with her maturation, her powers will also 'grow up'," she purrs in that rich, melodious tone.

Erik lets out a disapproving tsk. "And what, pray tell, should I expect when the girl awakens these...gifts of yours?" he asks Dumitra gruffly.

The vampiress responds with a tsk tsk of her own. "Why, don't you remember me telling you that day, good sir?" Her ruby eyes glitter with amusement.

Erik's brow furrows as he thinks deeply for a few moments. "You said a mage must suffer trauma to awaken their gifts," he finally states.

Dumitra nods, smiling indulgently. "And how much 'trauma' could little Lile here have possibly endured thus far?" She arches one perfect eyebrow questioningly.

A deep chuckle rumbles from Erik's broad chest. "With that drunken wretch Oisin as her father? Who's to say the girl hasn't suffered more than enough already?" He shoots me a wry look, and I can't help but giggle at his dark joke.

"Then it's probably not enough for 'traditional' trauma to awaken her gifts," Dumitra declares with a casual shrug. "You're most likely safe from Lile's awakening in the future, good Erik."

I pout exaggeratedly at her words, playing up my childish persona. But inwardly, I'm intrigued by this talk of "gifts" and "awakening." What exactly are these abilities Dumitra speaks of?

Erik seems to share my curiosity. "And what manner of gifts would the girl possess, once...awakened?" he asks, eyeing Dumitra speculatively.

The vampiress shrugs again, utterly nonchalant. "Gifts are not an exact science," she replies airily. "I have absolutely no idea what Lile would be able to do."

She pauses, tapping one crimson-tipped nail against her full lips contemplatively. "Almost all mages have unique powers, of course. There are some that seem common, such as enhancing one's physique or turning objects to ash with a mere touch. But in reality, each ability has subtle variations in intensity or method of activation."

My eyes widen at her words, and I lean forward eagerly. The idea of possessing such incredible powers is utterly captivating!

"So Lile could be a healer?" Erik prompts. "Or some manner of...destroyer?" There's an undercurrent of trepidation in his deep voice.

"Precisely," Dumitra confirms with a slow nod. "I have no way to ascertain what gifts she may manifest, should she awaken. But..." She holds up the now crimson and black gemstone, eyeing it thoughtfully. "The fact that this stone took on such an ominous coloration means Lile's potential is powerful. And that puts it mildly."

A shiver runs down my spine at the weight of her words. Powerful? Just how much devastation could I potentially unleash?

"The last mage whose gem turned this particular shade leveled an entire village," Dumitra continues, her tone deceptively casual. "When their mother died of old age, no less."

Erik's sharp inhalation is the only sound in the cottage for a long moment. I blink owlishly, trying to process the vampiress's words. An entire village, destroyed on a mere whim? Surely she jests!

"I would not destroy a village," I protest, unable to keep silent. I am many things, but a mindless engine of devastation?

Dumitra chuckles richly, reaching out to ruffle my hair with one elegant hand. "Oh, I suspect you would level an entire country, little one," she counters with a wink.

Then, to my shock, she leans in close until her crimson lips are mere inches from my ear. "Wouldn't you, little monster?" she breathes, the words a seductive purr that sends an unexpected shiver down my spine.

I freeze, my breath catching in my throat as her words seem to reverberate through my very soul. Does she...know? Can she sense the truth of who - what - I really am? There's no way, is there? Dumitra can't possibly read thoughts, can she?

Recovering my composure, I lean in as well until my lips are nearly brushing the vampiress's elegant neck. "I do not want to be hunted by Sean," I whisper urgently. "So I will be a good girl. But if you give me a wand, I will wave it around!"

The words tumble out before I can think better of them. I'm not sure if I'm playing along with her game or issuing a veiled threat. All I know is that the thought of wielding such destructive power is as intoxicating as it is terrifying.

Dumitra pulls back, throwing her head back with a rich peal of laughter as she stands. "Such spirit!" she declares, her ruby eyes sparkling with unholy glee. "Oh yes, you shall be utterly magnificent once you come into your gifts, little one."

I sit back in my chair, my mind whirling as I ponder the implications of Dumitra's words. Gifts of immense power, trauma as the catalyst, destruction on an unimaginable scale...

Just what manner of monster am I destined to become?

Dumitra turns her crimson gaze upon me, her full lips curving into a predatory smile. "I will ask you the third time, little one," she purrs in that rich, melodious tone. "Have you ever met a pale-skinned woman with long white hair in the past?"

I shake my head vigorously, putting on my best wide-eyed look of childish innocence. Erik lets out a frustrated sigh beside me.

"That creature is not real, Dumitra," he rumbles. "A mere child could not possibly have encountered the equivalent of Satan himself!"

But Dumitra simply tsks, shaking her head slowly as her ruby eyes glitter with dark amusement. "Oh, but she is quite real, good sir. And far more dangerous than your quaint Christian tales of the devil could ever convey."

With an exaggerated sigh, Dumitra rises from her spot and glides over to the plush armchair, sinking into the supple leather with boneless grace. She crosses her shapely legs, the slit in her burgundy gown parting to reveal a teasing glimpse of creamy thigh. I find myself gulping audibly at the sight.

Get a grip, you degenerate! I scold myself inwardly. She's a bloody vampire, for pity's sake - the last thing you want is to start drooling over her like some addled peasant!

"You wish to hear of my encounters with this...apparition, then?" Dumitra asks, arching one perfect brow. She doesn't wait for Erik's response before continuing.

"The first time I laid eyes upon her unholy visage, I was but a fledgling vampire newly freed from my sire's guidance," she begins, her tone taking on a distant, almost wistful quality. "I had journeyed to the heart of the Black Forest, seeking to slake my endless hunger on the warm blood of the deer and boar that roamed those ancient woods..."

Dumitra's gaze seems to glaze over as she recounts her tale, the words spilling forth in a hypnotic cadence.

"I came upon a small glade bathed in ethereal moonlight, and there she stood amidst the silvered ferns - a pale, naked nymph with hair like spun starlight and eyes that burned like twin suns. At first, I mistook the creature for one of the fabled woodland spirits the peasants so fear. But as our gazes met, I felt an icy frisson of dread pierce my core..."

A shudder ripples through Dumitra's lithe form, her ruby lips twisting into a grimace of revulsion.

"The very air seemed to thicken and congeal around us, the forest itself falling into an eerie, colorless hush. Only the two of us remained vibrant amidst that deathly stillness - she with her blazing crimson regard, and I frozen in place like a wretched rabbit before a serpent's unblinking stare."

I find myself leaning forward unconsciously, utterly entranced by the vampiress's haunting words. Even Erik seems spellbound, his thick brows furrowed in rapt attention.

"That's when the games began," Dumitra continues, her tone hardening into something cold and bitter. "The creature - Gwenhwyfar, as she named herself - set about testing the limits of my will, my sanity, my very soul. She would conjure visions to tempt and torment me, daring me to act upon my basest impulses no matter how vile or depraved..."

A muscle twitches in Dumitra's jaw as she clenches it tightly. "Aye, I witnessed and perpetrated unspeakable horrors at that foul being's behest, all under the delusion that I served some greater purpose ordained by the gods themselves. Villages razed, innocents slaughtered, foul rituals enacted with blood and viscera..."

She shakes her head slowly, letting out a weary sigh. "In the end, I realized the truth - that Gwenhwyfar cared only for inflicting anguish and sowing chaos, using me as her unwitting instrument of devastation. So I turned my back on her twisted games and fled into the night, praying I'd seen the last of that unholy spectre."

A heavy silence falls over the cottage as Dumitra's tale draws to a close. I find myself shivering despite the warmth of the crackling hearth nearby.

"So you see now why this creature must be destroyed, no matter the cost," Dumitra states, her ruby gaze boring into Erik's. "Even if every last soul on this orb must perish to accomplish it, Gwenhwyfar's foul existence cannot be allowed to persist a moment longer!"

Erik opens his mouth as if to protest, but Dumitra silences him with a look so utterly serious, it could shatter diamonds. The big man simply sags, letting out a resigned sigh of his own.

"There is...one more matter we must discuss," Dumitra murmurs, her tone softening somewhat as she meets Erik's eyes. "I am with child, good sir. In four months' time, I shall birth the heir to your bloodline into this world."

My eyes widen almost comically at her words. Four months? What sort of freakish, accelerated biology do vampires possess?!

Before I can stop myself, I blurt out the question burning in my mind. "Who are your parents, Dumitra? Are they vampires too?"

The dark-haired beauty regards me with an indulgent smile. "My mother was the ill-fated Mina Harker, who perished in childbirth while giving life to both myself and my human twin sister," she explains calmly. "As for my father...he is none other than the dreaded Vlad Tepes himself."

I very nearly choke on my own tongue at that revelation. Vlad the fucking Impaler?! As in, the real-life inspiration for Dracula himself?! What in the everloving fuck?!

Holy fuck, her father is Vlad Tepes and Mina Harker from those classic vampire fiction novels? Oh boy, here we have the antichrist of reality and fiction alike spawned into this twisted realm! What, is this version of Vlad the one from that badass Hellsing anime where he was an overpowered vampire slaying machine? Or maybe he's like the tragic, tormented soul from that Castlevania show on Netflix? Hell, for all I know he could just be the straight-up historical figure who got off on impaling people back in the 15th century![...]