Chapter 2: The Crimson Prophecy

The dawn came sluggishly, its pale light doing little to lift the shadows left behind by the Blood Moon. Aria sat by the hearth in Elder Kael’s cabin, her blade resting across her knees. She had cleaned it, yet she could still see the faint stains of last night’s battle as if the memory had burned itself into the steel.

Kael stood by the window, his silhouette framed by the soft morning glow. His grizzled face, lined with age and hardship, was as stern as ever. He had always been a man of few words, but this morning, his silence was unsettling.

“You’re going to tell me, aren’t you?” Aria finally broke the quiet, her voice edged with frustration.

Kael turned slowly, his piercing eyes meeting hers. “Tell you what?”

“Don’t play coy,” she snapped, rising to her feet. “You’ve been staring out that window for an hour like the world is ending. You know something about last night—about the mark, the vampire, the Blood Moon.”

Kael sighed, rubbing a hand over his weathered face. “You’re not wrong, Aria. There are… stories, old tales passed down through the guild. I didn’t think they mattered anymore, but after what you’ve told me…”

“What stories?”

Kael moved to the table and unrolled an ancient piece of parchment. The edges were frayed, and the ink had faded in places, but the intricate drawings and symbols were still clear. At the center was a figure surrounded by flames and shadow, with a crescent-shaped mark glowing on their chest.

“The Crimson Prophecy,” Kael said, his voice heavy. “It speaks of a time when the balance between humans and vampires will shatter. A chosen one, the Crimson Fated, will rise. They will either bring peace between the two races or plunge the world into chaos.”

Aria’s stomach twisted as her eyes locked onto the glowing mark in the drawing. It was identical to hers. “You think this has something to do with me.”

“I didn’t say that,” Kael replied quickly, but his hesitation betrayed him. “Prophecies are rarely straightforward, Aria. They’re riddles, metaphors. What I do know is that the Blood Moon awakens things long buried—powers, truths, and dangers. Your mark glowing last night could mean… something, or nothing at all.”

“That’s reassuring,” she muttered, crossing her arms. “And the vampire who saved me? Who warned me about shadows? Was he part of this prophecy?”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “A vampire saved you?”

“Yes,” she said, her tone sharp. “I’m not imagining it, Kael. He knew something. He looked at me like… like he’d seen a ghost.”

Kael’s face darkened. “You need to stay vigilant, Aria. Vampires are cunning, manipulative. Whatever his motives, they weren’t pure.”

Aria wanted to argue, but Kael’s warning echoed Selene’s from the night before. Perhaps they were right. Perhaps she was foolish to think otherwise.

“Fine,” she said, stepping away from the table. “If you won’t tell me everything, I’ll figure it out myself.”

“Aria—”

But she was already at the door, grabbing her cloak and stepping into the crisp morning air.

---

The ruins of the old temple lay hidden in the dense woods outside Elden Hollow, shrouded in vines and moss. Aria had stumbled upon them years ago during a hunt but had never ventured far inside. Today, something pulled her back, an unshakable instinct that whispered of answers waiting within.

The temple was eerily quiet as she approached, the only sound the crunch of leaves beneath her boots. The grand archway, carved with faded symbols, loomed before her like the mouth of some ancient beast. She hesitated for a moment before stepping inside, her blade at the ready.

The air was cooler here, damp and heavy with the scent of earth and decay. Shafts of light filtered through cracks in the ceiling, illuminating fragments of stone tablets and broken statues. Aria moved carefully, her eyes scanning for anything out of place.

Near the altar at the heart of the temple, she spotted it—a leather-bound journal, half-buried beneath a pile of rubble. The cover was worn, the pages yellowed with age, but the script inside was surprisingly legible.

She flipped through it, her breath catching as she read the first few lines:

"To those who follow, beware. The Blood King walks a path of shadows, tethered to the Crimson Fated by fate and fire. Their union will either save us or doom us all."

Aria’s heart raced as she scanned further. The entries spoke of Lucian Draevan, the Blood King—a name she recognized from old hunter lore. He was a vampire lord from centuries past, known for his ruthlessness and enigmatic disappearance after a great war.

Her fingers tightened around the journal. Could this Blood King be the same man who had saved her? The same man who had looked at her as if he knew her?

The sound of stone shifting pulled her from her thoughts. Aria froze, every muscle tensing as a shadow moved at the edge of her vision. She spun, blade raised, but the figure stepped into the light before she could strike.

It was him.

The man from last night—Lucian, the Blood King—stood before her, his silver eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“You shouldn’t have come here,” he said, his voice as calm and cold as she remembered.

Aria held her ground, the journal clutched tightly in her other hand. “You seem to make a habit of telling me what I shouldn’t do.”

His gaze flicked to the journal, and a flicker of something—anger, fear, or both—crossed his face. “That doesn’t belong to you.”

“And what does?” she shot back. “My life? My mark? My fate? Tell me what’s going on, or I swear I’ll—”

“You’ll what?” he interrupted, stepping closer. “Kill me? Try, if you wish. But know this, hunter—every step you take toward the truth will lead you deeper into the shadows.”

Aria’s blade wavered, but she didn’t lower it. “Then maybe it’s time I stopped running from them.”

Lucian’s expression softened, if only slightly, and for a moment, the weight of centuries seemed to rest in his eyes. “You don’t understand what you’re asking for,” he said quietly. “But you will.”

Before she could reply, he turned and vanished once again into the darkness, leaving Aria alone with the journal and a thousand more questions than she had started with.

The silence that followed vale also known as Lucian’s departure was deafening. Aria stood frozen in the dim light of the temple, her blade still raised, her chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His words echoed in her mind, reverberating through her like an unspoken warning.

"You don’t understand what you’re asking for, but you will."

Her fingers curled tighter around the journal. This wasn’t just about her mark, or the prophecy Kael refused to explain. Lucian knew something—something that tied them both to the Blood Moon, to the shadows encroaching on her world.

She glanced at the spot where he’d disappeared, her thoughts a tangled mess of frustration and curiosity.

“Coward,” she muttered under her breath, tucking the journal into her satchel.

The ruins seemed darker now, colder, as if Lucian had taken the light with him. Aria scanned the room once more, searching for anything she might have missed, but the temple revealed no further secrets. Resigned, she made her way back toward the entrance, her mind racing with questions she didn’t yet have answers for.

---

The walk back to the village was uneventful but tense. Every rustling branch, every snap of a twig set her nerves on edge. She kept glancing over her shoulder, half-expecting Lucian to reappear—or worse, for something far darker to emerge from the shadows.

When Elden Hollow finally came into view, its familiar crooked rooftops and narrow streets bathed in the pale afternoon light, Aria felt a brief flicker of relief. But it was short-lived.

Selene was waiting for her by the well in the village square, her arms crossed and her expression a storm of worry and anger.

“Where the hell have you been?” Selene demanded as Aria approached.

“Out,” Aria replied curtly, brushing past her.

Selene grabbed her arm, forcing her to stop. “Don’t ‘out’ me, Aria. You disappeared after Kael’s warning, and now you come back looking like you’ve seen a ghost. What happened?”

Aria hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was close enough to overhear. The villagers were busy with their chores, repairing the damage from the night before, but she still felt the weight of their eyes on her.

“Not here,” she said quietly, pulling Selene toward a more secluded spot near the edge of the square.

Once they were alone, Aria unfastened her satchel and pulled out the journal, holding it up for Selene to see. “I found this at the old temple.”

Selene’s brow furrowed as she took the journal, flipping through its worn pages. “What is this?”

“Something that connects all of this—the Blood Moon, my mark, the prophecy Kael keeps avoiding. It talks about someone called the Blood King.”

Selene’s head snapped up, her green eyes wide. “The Blood King? He’s a legend, Aria. A story to scare fledgling hunters.”

“No,” Aria said firmly. “He’s real. I met him.”

Selene’s face paled. “What?”

“He’s the one who saved me last night. The vampire who killed the rogue—he’s the Blood King. I’m sure of it.”

Selene stared at her in disbelief, her grip on the journal tightening. “And you didn’t think to tell me this sooner?”

“I wasn’t sure what to think,” Aria admitted. “But now… now I know he’s connected to all of this. He said I shouldn’t have gone to the temple, like he’s trying to protect me. Or maybe he’s just trying to keep me from finding the truth.”

“Aria, you’re playing with fire.” Selene’s voice was low, urgent. “This isn’t just about you anymore. If Kael finds out—if the guild finds out—you’ll be branded a traitor for even speaking to him, let alone trusting him.”

“I don’t trust him,” Aria said sharply. “But he knows something. And if he’s part of this prophecy, then I have to figure out what it means.”

Selene looked like she wanted to argue, but instead, she sighed and handed the journal back. “Fine. But you can’t do this alone. If you’re going to chase after old legends and cryptic vampires, at least let me watch your back.”

Aria felt a small smile tug at the corner of her lips. “Thanks, Selene.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Selene said grimly. “You’re going to owe me for this.”

---

That night, as Aria lay in her small, dimly lit room, she couldn’t sleep. The journal sat open on the table beside her, its ancient words swimming before her tired eyes. She traced a finger over one of the passages, her mind replaying every moment she’d spent with Lucian.

"Tethered to the Crimson Fated by fate and fire."

Her birthmark itched faintly beneath her shirt, as if responding to the words. She pulled the fabric aside, staring at the crescent-shaped mark that had been a part of her for as long as she could remember.

What did it mean? And why did she feel as if her entire life had been leading her to this moment?

A soft knock at her window startled her. Aria shot up, her hand instinctively going to the blade beside her bed. She moved cautiously toward the window, her heart pounding.

When she pulled back the curtain, her breath caught.

Lucian stood on the other side, his silver eyes glowing faintly in the moonlight.

“Are you always this reckless?” he asked, his voice muffled but laced with amusement.

Aria scowled, wrenching the window open. “Are you always this cryptic?”

He stepped inside with the smooth grace of a predator, his presence filling the small room. “If you want answers, hunter, you’ll have to come with me. The shadows are moving, and time is running out.”

Aria crossed her arms, glaring at him. “Why should I trust you?”

“You shouldn’t,” he said simply, a ghost of a smirk on his lips. “But if you want to survive what’s coming, you don’t have a choice.”

Despite herself, Aria felt a spark of curiosity—and dread. She tightened her grip on her blade and nodded. “Lead the way.”

And with that, her world tilted further into chaos.