It's taking shape >:3

Prologue - Until the Last Drop Is Spilled

TW: Blood, Death, Multiple Personalities

Golden blood slowly poured over the dark tiles of the palace. White hair, stained with the blood, framed the girl's pale face. The girl appeared to be no older than 18. A tall man slowly knelt down beside the girl. His black hair fell like shadows across his face, his eyes so dark they could swallow shadows themselves, and his lips, in contrast to his other appearance, trembled, as if they wanted to let out a sob but couldn't bring themselves to do so. A faint "Levana" finally broke the silence; the name echoed in the large room like a whisper that made him feel guilty for the situation. His pale, bone-like hand grasped the dagger embedded in the young woman's chest and pulled it out. The girl's blood dripped onto her until the man placed the dagger in a black box. "Until the last drop is spilled," he whispered softly into the darkness as he held her already cold body to his. His eyes turned red. Four different crystals illuminated the night. The heirs will be sent to war; they will fight until no one dares to attack again. Noctyra was now at war like never before, and as her king, the God of Noctyra, placed the girl's body in an enchanted glass coffin, he murmured his promise: "I will not rest until the last drop is shed."

A bang was heard. Golden eyes, tinged with red, opened. Eyelashes fluttered up and down to chase away the remaining tiredness. She slowly rose to a sitting position, long red hair falling over her shoulders, and her nightgown was desecrated and disheveled from a restless night of tossing and turning under the thick blanket. The moon and Hel shone red through her window, her attention was solely focused on the moon until the door opened and two women in service uniforms entered and helped her out of bed. "Good morning, Lady Victorya," one of them hummed as she helped Victorya out of her clothes. "Did you sleep well?" the other woman who was adjusting her clothes chimed in. "The same dream as in the last few months." Victorya's voice was icy; outsiders would have shivers down the spine at that tone, but the maids were used to her; after all, they had been responsible for Victorya since birth. Victorya is the youngest of the Vampire Blood Palace, a part of Noctyra, the place of darkness. Despite being the youngest, Victorya is already destined to be the heir and future Countess of the vampires. Unlike the others who were once mortals, she was born a pureblood vampire, the last time being 100,000 years ago.

When Victorya was dressed, she put on an amulet, an amulet she had had since birth; her parents said it protected her from evil spirits. As she walked quietly but carefully through the halls, her siblings passed her grinning. Today was her first day, Victorya's day, when she was to attend the Academy in Noctyra with the other heirs from the various branches of Noctyra. She already had all her belongings with her when she was picked up by a carriage and taken to the Academy. The hills where the Storm Palace was located passed by the window, the dark swamps of the Siren Swamp stretched far to the Death Palace, the Dark Circus shone darkly in the Garden of Dreams, hidden in the mists of dreams. On the way to the Academy, Victorya's thoughts wandered to the coming time; she had never had contact with the other heirs, only heard of them from others. When the carriage appeared to be arriving, it was let out in front of the academy, where the four heirs were already waiting to welcome them.

Raven, the heir of the Storm, a young man who was already the general of the army fighting against Lumielle of the Celestial Empire. His face was adorned with a scar, his green eyes shining with self-esteem and confidence. His face was framed by black hair, with a white streak shining in the light. "Look at that, our little vampire has finally decided to show herself."

Artic, the heir of the Siren Swamp, stood close to Raven. "Not so rude, Raven." He was a beautiful young man whose hair was framed with long, wavy dark blue hair. His hair was decorated with various shells, and his ears, a well-known characteristic of sirens, protruded slightly. Artic was so beautiful that if Victorya didn't know better, she might think he was a girl. But it's also known that Artic has a feminine side, depending on the situation he finds himself in. Artic is a cold prince who has no interest in those who are of no use to him. He is brutal in his hunting and kills his victims on the body.

Pierro, a young man slightly younger than Raven, was jumping on the spot next to a girl, his face decorated with clown makeup and looking like a dream clown. Pierro was the heir to the Shadow Circus, located in the Garden of Dreams. This circus thrives on the mortals who come and leave their souls there, and on the enjoyment of the inhabitants of Noctyra who come for their entertainment. "Oh, the heir of the vampires is so cute, she's already giving you a run for your money, Your Majesty." His voice was full of joy and anticipation of how the girl next to her would respond.

Levana stood next to Pierro, her arms crossed, and deep black eyes bored into Victorya's soul. Levana was the heir of the Death Palace and thus the future queen of Noctyra. Victorya widened her eyes slightly, Levana's white hair falling like a leaf over her shoulders, only this time without the golden blood. Levana was a secret of Noctyra through and through, a crown princess whose silence could kill even the strongest warrior, a look that would rip out the heart, and a voice that could be so soft and gentle but at the same time, could crumble someone's entire existence to dust. "I doubt it, Pierro. Victorya, welcome to the Academy of Darkness." Levana extended her hand to Victorya, and Victorya took it, determined to find out what her enduring dream was. where Levana's death means.

"It is my honor to be the heir of the night."

જ⁀➴Authors Note: