CHAPTER 34: SEE YOU SOON, LYON (1)

A sudden, blinding red flash tears through the night and yanks me out of sleep.

«L-Lyon, you crazy pervert... what the hell are you doing?!»

That voice—one I know all too well—follows the red light.

My eyes fly open.

The dorm room is dark, lit only by the pale glow of the moon.

Faint, but enough to show me that...

W-Why the hell am I in the same bed as Kimberly Dulcar?!

We’re lying on the narrow cot, back-to-back, still wearing the standard blue uniforms that familiars are forced to keep on during the day.

Right... now I remember!

Last night at dinner, I had a long talk with her about Vis energy, asking for advice on how to control it better.

She generously offered to give me some tips—after all, her rank is almost a thousand places higher than mine, so I obviously have a lot to learn from her.

Since the rule says no more than two familiars can share the same room, Gerard offered to switch with Kimberly for the night, so I could train with her as much as possible... and yes, by "train" I mean actual training, nothing indecent, I swear—otherwise Aron would have killed me on the spot.

Strangely, he didn’t even complain much about Kimberly’s decision to spend the night with me.

He just muttered something like: «Try touching her even once, and I swear I’ll slit your throat.»

Probably because of the late hour, and of course the training itself—mostly basic exercises in energy control—Kimberly and I ended up collapsing together on my bed.

But now, that red flash and that voice echoing in the room... there’s no mistaking it—it’s Ayra’s unmistakable voice!

Luckily, Kimberly doesn’t seem to have noticed either the light or Ayra’s scandalized shout—or maybe she’s just pretending to sleep out of embarrassment, or fear of being punished.

But honestly, who cares... Ayra is awake!

I jump out of bed instantly, my vision blurred by tears.

Ayra is standing right beside it, staring down at me with that usual look of hers—one I always find both funny and sweet.

The look of someone trying hard to appear stern and unyielding, when deep down she’s anything but.

She’s only been unconscious for two days, yet it felt like an eternity.

And everything that happened yesterday—even Sasha’s bizarre request—only strengthened my unshakable conviction: I don’t want any other master but her.

«I’m so glad you’re okay, Ayra,» I whisper softly, careful not to wake Kimberly, while a genuine smile spreads across my lips.

«Did you doubt me?» she replies, far from modest. «I may be a princess, but I’m still a Volkom—the bloodline that gave birth to the greatest warriors in the history of Mildelar. It takes far more than a little fatigue to kill me.»

Her confident, boastful words instantly drag my thoughts to the trial awaiting her—the test that will decide her fate. She has just one week to master her devastating Innatus.

The thought alone darkens my expression, fills me with melancholy—my eyes almost welling up.

That sudden change doesn’t escape her notice.

«This isn’t the place to talk about it,» Ayra states, cutting off a conversation that would only turn unpleasant.

It’s like the unease in my eyes told her exactly what I was about to say.

And in the blink of an eye, we’re back on the shores of that lake she loves so much—the same one Daphne used to bring her to after Karol’s death, Viktor’s fifth daughter, slain by Vespera.

A place that, from what she told me, gives her peace and calm—emotions she needs now more than ever.

We stay there motionless, side by side, for what feels like forever, staring at the panorama around us—the calm, crystal-clear water mirroring the small moon like a perfect reflection.

An unreal silence wraps around us, broken only by the faint rustle of small creatures moving among the violet trees that ring the clearing.

Every now and then, I sneak a glance at Ayra—her expression, so melancholy and almost fearful, speaks louder than any words.

I’d say any question from me would be pointless.

She looks frozen, like a statue, her gaze locked on that breathtaking scenery—as if she wants to carve every detail into her memory.

As if she’s afraid she’ll never see it again.

«Lyon...» Ayra finally breaks the heavy silence, her voice barely a whisper. «I don’t remember anything after I lost control of my Innatus, but according to what Daphne told me when I woke up, I was one step away from killing her... and you. Forgive me, Lyon...»

My eyes widen.

My breath catches.

My heart pounds furiously in my chest, racing with sudden tachycardia.

A vampire apologizing to her familiar for almost killing him?

In the world I come from, apologies are normal, but here... here it’s pure fantasy—especially when the social gap is as enormous as ours.

She, one of the most important vampires of the kingdom, and me, the lowest of the low, even among humans... Yet I’ve never heard words as sincere as the apology she just gave me.

Why her?! Out of all the vampires in this world... why her?

Mildelar is full of heartless bastards who deserve punishments worse than the flames of hell!

It’s not fair... It’s not fair at all!

I clench my fists in anger, my vision blurred by tears I can barely hold back.

«You’re the best master any familiar could ever wish for...» I whisper, letting out a deep sigh to steady myself and calm the storm inside me. «What I’m about to say may sound absurd, but... I’m truly glad you chose me that cold December night. I don’t say it because you saved my life, but because meeting you has been the best thing that’s ever happened to me...»

For the first time since we arrived, she tears her gaze away from the water’s reflection and looks straight at me.

First comes a gentle, compassionate smile—like my words really touched her heart.

Then a clumsy pout, an awkward attempt at indignation.

«How dare you talk as if I were already dead?!» she snaps, though her tone sounds more awkward than threatening. «I told you, I’m a Volkom! The same blood that runs in my veins also flowed in the legendary Drakhul Volkom! Ancient texts say he was the most powerful vampire of all time, strong enough to defeat beings closer to gods than mortals. They also say he mastered his Innatus in just one day! And guess what—his Innatus is the same as mine, the Shadowshaper-form! Your lack of faith in your master is a grave insult, you know? Once I finish my training with Clotilde and gain full control over the Shadowshaper-form, I’ll punish you severely!»

I can only answer with a faint smile—half amused, half reassured by her overwhelming confidence.

No one can say she doesn’t believe in herself.

And that’s a vital trait when facing something that looks impossible.