The world had been dark for so long.

Dreams, like clouds, passed in front of her vision in an endless show of memories and nightmares. After a while, she thought her being to be that of a spirit – something that could watch but never interact. It couldn’t have been real, for what she was seeing was a completely different world. It was not the lands, the seas, the trees she recognized. It had to be something from imagination; it was too farfetched to comprehend. 

In the midst of all of these dreams, she began to feel a warmth. It started within her chest, like a blossom, opening as petals until its brilliance filled the area where her heart and lungs were. First breath: it was biting and painful. But it was necessary. Each one brought cold life into her body in the form of a unwanted welcome. Muscles of stone began to twitch in response, a gasp of breath filling the space around her with noise. It echoed back at her – was she surrounded by stone? 

Her hands clenched and she wanted to scream, but the motion of opening her jaw to gasp hurt enough to steal the air from her lungs. The peace that was there only moments earlier dissipated into agony as she pushed her way into a sitting position, blonde, wavy hair falling in front of her face as she panted from the effort it took. It smelled like it had a layer of dust on it, confirming her suspicion that she had been there for an abnormal amount of time. Long nails scraped against the ground as she attempted to stand, her body falling over to the side onto a stone wall. 

The stability of the stone was a comfort to her aching body, but that comfort was soon overshadowed by the presence of a soft light ahead of her.

It was dimmer than a candle, something minuscule enough that it barely allowed her to see her surroundings. It was a tight space that only granted enough room for her to stand and move, like the crawl space of a building. There were sounds of activity above her and the footsteps shook dust from the ceiling onto her hair. She coughed, the effort straining her ribs as her hands reached towards the light in front of her. It came from between the bricks where the mud that had melded the wall ran dry with age.

“Where am I?” 

Her voice was unrecognizable, scraggly and dried like the room around her. Her hand pressed onto the wall and pushed, finding resistance. One of the bricks shifted, but just enough to give her hope. It started with pushes of her hands, then with her body leaned against it, and eventually jumped to her pushing her entire body against the wall like her life depended on it. Blood moistened her shoulder on her skin and ran down her arms, but with every push more light fell into the room. When it felt like her body was about to break, the wall did. 

Her body collapsed over the rubble, her scraps of cloths torn to shreds, but still she breathed with new freedom without restrictions of the walls.

“What in the cursed blazes happened here?” 

A portly tavern woman, covered in an apron and the evidence of a hard day’s work, stared down at her with curiosity and fear. The freed woman put her hands up in surrender, not feeling the usual call of magic that she remembered weaving in her dreams. 

“Were. . . were you in the wall?”

Lips bleeding and cracked, she answered: “Apparently.” 

“Are you some sort of vampire?” 

She opened her mouth to show fang-less teeth as proof, keeping her hands where the tavern woman could see them. She knew better than to offend a woman who worked in that field – they knew everybody in the town. 

“Well. If you’re not a vampire, you’re a sad story. Come on up when you’re ready and I’ll have a bath ready for ya and a clean pair of clothes. But first – you are in desperate need of a drink. Come on, now,” She extended a hand and helped her off the floor. 

She was able to walk, albeit shakily, up the stairs until the tavern woman, named Tess, sat her at the bar and shoved a glass of water and a mug of ale across the way.

The water, crisp and clean, washed away the dust of whatever hell she had just been in. She hoped the bath would do the same

Neveah found the voices quiet more often than not in recent months. She could not decide if it was Nemesis’s diligent work, manipulating her mind and discarding the memories he felt no longer served her, or if it was finding comfort in Azrail’s arms once more. Regardless, the weight of pain and anger that engulfed her for countless years had been lifted. The vampire knew Tobias, for example, and the role he played in her life. However, the days of him taunting her mind had since passed. He did not get to question her decisions and make her feel lesser for where her life ended up. Veah thought of him clearly now, without being overwhelmed with grief or anger. He loved the vampire as much as he could in his own broken way. Without him, and his divinity, she would not have been given the gift of bearing a child. The vixen felt a bit of unease in her peace, wondering when the floor would give out from beneath her. In all her life, there were only brief moments of happiness. Nemesis encouraged her to embrace this second chance at life - and for the first time, she could see light in her future.

“A constant source of blood and sex helps,” she thought to herself with a cheeky grin as the ship neared shoreline. She tapped her fingertips on the edge of the worn railing impatiently. Despite her appreciation for what Nemesis did, Neveah did not pursue a relationship of any kind with him. It would have been too hard on them both, especially given his wives. They both agreed that had she arrived in this world sooner, things would have gone very differently but he was a different man now. She did not want to cause him and strain or misfortune. First and foremost, he was her truest friend and loyal confidant. If for some reason the god needed anything from her, she would agree without hesitation. There was no limit to what she would do if he asked. “Except maybe kill a kid - but why would the Apex of Darkness and Fear request such a thing anyway?” she mused, quickly dismissing the thought. She knew him better than that.

Thus, she had no real allies and certainly no reputation. The god granted her a small sum of money and passage in establishments to get her started but truly Neveah was anonymous, something she could not claim since she was practically a child. Naturally, the vampire grew bored and restless which led to a little culling experiment and a new business venture. Azrail enjoyed Mamlak but Veah visited Vilpamolan often to check on her arrangements. The enterprise was still fairly small but she knew the potential.

“As always, thank you my friend,” she purred as she strolled by the captain. She paused to kiss his cheek and drop a small pouch of coin beside him. He nodded in response. The vixen made her way onto the docks with just a bag over her shoulder. Neveah made her way towards one of her favorite taverns that happened to have a handful of rooms, in hopes one might be vacant. The regular hostess greeted her with a grand, open gesture. “Milady! You’ve returned, interested in a room or just a bite?” the elf asked with a mischievous grin. “A room yes, anything else would be undecided,” she replied with a pointed tone. “Absolutely - I have room 203.” “I’ll take it,” Veah took the presented key with a wink before heading towards the stairs to drop off her bag. After taking a moment to pin her hair half up to look a little less wind blown and changing into a dark corset, Neveah found herself heading towards the bar.

Her leather clad legs came to a grinding halt at the bottom of the stairs. Her nostrils flared and her body tensed. Time seemed to stand perfectly still despite her racing mind. She had to consciously unclench her jaw and relax her shoulders. The vampire finally pushed herself into action. She strolled towards the bar and took a seat near a blonde woman. She raised an index finger to signal to the barmaid that she’d order when they had a moment. The woman dropped off a cup of water and presumably ale to the woman that caught Neveah’s attention. “Kurayo Red, please,” she ordered before glancing over at the blonde once more. The vampire could not believe what every ounce of her being was screaming. She glanced away, as not to startle the woman, and took a sip of her wine once it arrived. The divine liquid was not enough to settle her nerves. She had to say something but struggled to find the words. “The stew with a slice of crusty bread is excellent here, if you’re hungry,” the vampire offered sincerely but hating her choice of introduction. “Welcome to town, I don’t think i’ve seen you around.” And I would remember. Just talk to me. Say anything.

Besides the expected smells from a tavern of stale sweat and liquor, something shifted. Dust covered as they were, her senses flared in familiarity as the sound of boots descending the stairs echoed within her head. They were probably drops in a bucket compared to the bustling sound of the room, but something about the rhythm and cadence struck her. With the recognition came a pounding headache that started in her temples and worked its way forward. She took her head in one hand and gently pulled on the roots of her dirtied blonde hair, hoping that the tension would bring some relief. It did not, instead if merely focused the memories that were flooding her mind.

Images, friends, relationships, they were shrouded by a thick fog when she tried to focus on them. Still, it had maybe only been an hour or two since she had awoken, so they would probably come in time. When the woman sat next to her at the bar, she opened her eyes and took in the visage of the stranger. The red hair, the outfit, the pallor of her skin, and even the wine choice – it was filled with a surge of painful remembrances. “I am famished, but I might only be able to handle the broth of such a thing for fear that my body would reject it.”

The hostess took that as an order and hummed a sound in acknowledgement, turning to go to the kitchen to fetch a bowl. That left the two of them at the bar, the lingering introduction hanging in the air between them. Where to start? Would she sound mad describing all of the things in her mind? Would it even be believable? Introductions normally required a name and she was frustrated to find that she could not even bring her own to her lips. She figured honesty would probably be the best way to go forward.

“Perhaps not in this place, but I have confidence this is not our first meeting.”

She looked over to her with tired eyes, thankful when the broth arrived and cleared the smell of dust and stone from her nose. Instead of being polite with a spoon, she brought the whole bowl to her lips and savored the flavors and the way it felt like she was cleansing her body of the apparent hibernation she had been in. “This is going to sound crazy, but I think I remember more about you than I do of me. Maybe you can help me put the pieces together, Neveah?” The name felt like honey on her tongue, something sweet and comforting. It was one of the first pleasant sensations she had experienced since waking up. Each word spoken was a step towards regaining what she had lost.

Neveah allowed her to remember vampires – Azrail, Nemesis, Isleen, and others – the names and events kept stacking up, the memory of magic feeling numb in her fingertips which couldn’t even bring a spark when she tried in the walls. She felt the bang of loss in her belly, Raiken – her son. It was too many emotions to reprocess at once, so she pushed them all down into her chest for another moment. In all of that depth, there was a small warmth, something binding that came from her very spirit. It brought tears to her eyes, and for a moment all she could see were two moons.

She swallowed what she felt was a spiky stone, turning towards the red-haired vampire with a hesitant expression. “Sister – I know that is what you were to me. I don’t mean to throw this burden onto you, but my heart just spoke a name that I think could help. Where’s Kiba?”

Neveah had not allowed herself to dwell on the old world. Her grief had killed her once before. She could not bear the weight of that much pain again. The discovery of her daughter in Revaliir had been a welcomed surprise, though it had been under awful circumstances. A small piece of the vampire was still angry with Kiba for not telling her of Isleen sooner. He was the first to find the redhead and the fact he continued to get more time with Isleen ate away at Neveah. It wasn’t fair, of course. The diowolf did not owe the vampire such kindness. He already had done more than she could have asked for in loving and raising the girl. However, the vixen was a selfish creature and expected him to do better. If Kiba were truly this noble, family-oriented man, he should have sent word to her before Isleen was on her deathbed.

“Whatever she wants, add to my name,” the redhead offered with a cool, even tone. Veah knew without a shadow of a doubt that the blonde in front of her was her sister from the old world. Anything she desired, the vampire would see fulfilled. However, she also could tell the woman was unwell and not just from her attire.

“It is not but do not strain to remember, it will come - I have no doubt,” she replied gently. Neveah knew too well how it felt to have one’s mind betray them and have to sort through what is real and what is not. Voices were what typically plagued the redhead but the blond seemed to be wading through fog. This did not concern Neveah for the moment. She would wait patiently on the other side. The vampire paused to question what it might mean if her sister did not find herself once more. The lycan was the sweet, kind, generous soul who dedicated her life to others type, who somehow accepted the vampire wholeheartedly. The redhead could not picture her any other way. However, she quickly dismissed the thought as her foolish fear. She would love the wolf through it, no matter who this person was in front of her turned out to be. There was no universe where the blonde could ever be a worse being than the redhead.

Her posture perked up at the sound of her name. The corners of her lips curved into a smile. She quickly took a sip of wine to compose herself. “Ask me anything and I will do my best to answer,” the vampire offered. There was a lot of information to be shared and not all of it would be pleasant. Neveah had to remind herself to tread lightly. “Yes, that I am - which may be confusing as you and I do not share bloodlines as you might be able to smell,” she began, speaking slowly as to let the words sink in. “However, in the old world, we were once divine and made our bond so it was so.”

The mention of Kiba next was not surprising. It was the sadness of lost love that often caused Veah to hibernate for long periods of time. However in this case, it seemed the transition had forced the wolf’s disappearance and for unknown reasons, she finally woke. “We don’t have to do this down here in public if you don’t want,” she offered. “I have a private room we can talk in and you’re welcome to bathe as well.” Neveah quickly realized dismissing the topic of Kiba may not have been wise. She leaned over and placed a hand on the girl’s forearm. “Kiba is well, as is Isleen, Teu, and many others - but there are others who appear to be lost to us.”