Burn descended the stone steps, leading under the church to the vast basement. The expected chill wrapped around him like a welcome from an old, frosty friend.

Surprisingly, the place was immaculate, as if dust and decay dared not settle where the undead rested. With Vlad gliding ahead like a dark parade float, Burn followed into a chamber that could only be described as 'Gothic Aesthetic meets Funeral Home.'

The room was an ethereal maze of transparent white curtains, cascading from the ceiling like ghostly waterfalls. At the heart of it were floating candles, their flames flickering with the enthusiasm of a morose disco.

These encircled a single black coffin. The air was thick, saturated with a fragrance potent enough to resurrect the dead—or at least make the living wish for a gas mask.

"Apologies for the overpowering scent," Vlad explained as he noticed Burn's discomfort.

"The younger vampires possess exceptionally acute senses of smell, and this child, in particular, has a very alluring aroma. The fragrance helps to mask her scent."

As Burn edged closer to the open black coffin, his gaze fell upon the woman lying within, her appearance strikingly beautiful yet hauntingly serene.

She was dressed in a pure white gown that contrasted sharply with the dark roses scattered across her form, perhaps serving both as a somber decoration and a practical means to mask her enticing scent.

Her beauty was ethereal, almost transcendent, as if she were a celestial being caught in a temporal slumber. The purity of her dress mirrored the innocence etched on her features, creating an arresting image of surreal tranquility.

Her blonde hair, paler now than Burn remembered, spilled around her like a halo of faded gold, framing her face in delicate wisps.

Her eyes, closed gently as if she were merely sleeping, were shielded by eyelashes that seemed almost crystalline, frozen in time.

Despite the peacefulness of her repose, there was an unsettling stillness to her, akin to a lifeless doll abandoned in a forgotten toy chest.

“She’s only asleep, isn’t she?” Burn queried, his tone laced with skepticism.

“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Vlad responded, his voice carrying a hint of questionable assurance. “That is, according to vampire standards.”

Burn furrowed his brow. “And what does that mean in human terms?”

Vlad gave a nonchalant shrug. “For us, it's akin to a deep slumber. But for humans, one might liken it to a vegetative state. It’s not as if she can just decide to wake up and join us for tea.”

“That sounds dangerous,” Burn commented, his attempt to navigate the conversation with this age-old vampire feeling more like defusing a bomb without a manual.

“Then, are you going to wake her up?” Vlad asked.

“How?”

“Try to kiss her~ like sleeping beauty~”

“You fucking—”

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"I'm serious," Vlad said abruptly. "We discovered her on a frozen mountain to the north of here. Her body was completely frozen, and nearly all of her soul energy had been drained."

Burn furrowed his brows. “When was this?”

"Hmm, three years ago, was it?" Vlad muttered thoughtfully. "It was sometime after that crack appeared in the sky."

Immediately, Burn’s thought about Yvain’s words before he left. “The Edensor boy sent multiple letters here asking about her whereabouts. I heard you told him that you didn’t know.”

“What would happen if he knew? No. What would happen if anyone knew?” Vlad asked back.

If news of her condition were to spread, it could jeopardize Yvain and his position. Moreover, even if Yvain were informed, there's little he could do about it. In fact, knowing might only harm his own wellbeing.

"It's challenging enough for us to manage on our own," Vlad suddenly remarked. "We're containing dangerous beasts here, training them through faith and sheer determination. We're not equipped to meddle in worldly affairs."

"However, until she recovers, we will provide her with shelter," he added. “And it’s not like we have the means to help her recover faster either.”

[“Ah, right. Didn’t you also come for her?”]

[“But, you owe me one, old man. So now, bring me to her. Morgan Le Fay.”]

After Vlad disclosed her whereabouts to Burn, Burn agreed to assist him in resolving the situation with the second prince.

This arrangement allowed Burn to meet Morgan Le Fay, while Vlad and the vampires managed to settle the issue without getting their hands dirty.

“You actually already planned to disclose her whereabouts to me earlier. So you should’ve still owed me one,” Burn said.

“That’s alright,” Vlad shrugged again. “I don’t mind giving you one.”

From his vantage point, Vlad watched as Burn approached the coffin with a mixture of reverence and subtle trepidation. It was not often that one witnessed Burn, a figure often cloaked in stoicism, allowing his guard to drop, even if just slightly.

As he neared, Burn’s face softened, illuminated by a cocktail of dark longing and a faint trace of anger. Here was a legendary witch, alive yet dormant, her mystique intact even in slumber.

Each step Burn took was measured, almost reverential, as if every footfall on the cold stone floor was both a privilege and a trespass into sacred territory.

His eyes, typically sharp and commanding, now roamed over her features with a gentleness born of respect and a deep-seated hatred.

He seemed to be searching for echoes of the magic that Morgan Le Fay was famed for, the power that had trapped him in this soul binding curse.

Pausing beside the coffin, Burn's gaze lingered on her serene face.

There was a quiet intensity in the way he observed her, as though committing every detail to memory—perhaps out of respect for her power, or perhaps to better understand the circumstances that led to her current vulnerability.

In this moment, the usual hardness of Burn's demeanor gave way to a subtle vulnerability. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides, revealing a flicker of human emotion that he typically kept well hidden.

“What happened to her?” Burn growled beneath his breath.

Vlad teased. “Aww~ you love her so much do you?”

Burn raised his face, utterly disgusted.

"No one knows what happened to her," Vlad commented. "You should ask her when she wakes up, but that won’t be anytime soon, right? You’ve seen her condition yourself. It's possible she may never wake up."

Burn knew. This woman was too beaten up to wake up. Not to mention…

“But isn’t that best for you and your curse?” Vlad suddenly said sinisterly, “You’d still be cursed, but as long as you keep her alive, you won’t have to return, right?”

Mind… reading?

“This bastard old vampire!” Burn snapped. He knew about the curse—?

“Like I said, someone like you would choose the most effective method, right? Just keep her asleep so she wouldn’t be a headache to you,” the old vampire said.

“You—”

“A couple of months ago, her soul energy suddenly depleted again. She lost her breath and almost died. Her entire organ was failing,” Vlad stepped closer toward Burn, suddenly giving a menacing aura.

“After a couple of days peeking into your mind, I knew… it was you,” Vlad coldly said.

“You took everything away from her.”