The world keeps changing with time—but people never do."Arvard sat silently in the back seat of the moving car, his eyes locked on the city lights streaking past the tinted windows. His voice was serious, distant.
"What happened to the Silver Warriors and their army?" he asked.
Biltus, seated beside him, uncorked a bottle of wine and poured a glass.
"My memory's not as sharp as it once was," he said, offering the glass to Arvard. "But I remember we were outnumbered. News spread fast during the war. Our side lost its prince… but their army…"
"Are you trying to make me feel guilty?" Arvard interrupted sharply.
Biltus immediately bowed his head.
"Forgive me, Master. I meant no offense. My mind is weak with age—please overlook my missteps."
Arvard accepted the wine and took a slow sip.
"I'm sorry. I know it must be hard… living for over a thousand years. Please, continue."
Biltus nodded solemnly.
"There was blood… more than I can remember. Noble vampires came down from their towers to fight. Others, like the Rukaneer family, fled in fear."
He paused for a long moment before continuing.
"Prince Leofric… he was sent to the front lines. He never returned."
Arvard closed his eyes at the name, breathing in deeply. Then quietly, he muttered:
"So was Father…"
Biltus gently interrupted.
"Forgive me, Master, but... your father did his best to hide his sorrow during the war."
"Just like him," Arvard said with a bitter smile.
Biltus bowed his head again.
"He mourned, but never in public. After the war ended, he handed power to a council of noble vampires… and went into a slumber. He hasn't awakened since. I was made interim leader until a true heir of House Ampher returned. Now, you have."
"You think they'll just hand over their power to me?"Arvard asked with a faint smirk.
"Maintaining peace was no easy task," Biltus said. "As I aged, I had children to help me bear the weight. But time passed. My sons left me. Now, only a few remain—four grandsons and a granddaughter. Even they are aging. Having someone young beside me… always helped."
Arvard extended his arm toward him.
"Then this will help."
Biltus's eyes widened.
"No, Master… I cannot."
"It's an order," Arvard said softly, smiling. "A reward, too."
Hesitating, Biltus finally leaned forward and bit into Arvard's wrist. The taste of ancient blood—rich, smooth, ageless—rushed through him. Memories, strength, clarity… everything returned at once.
"That's enough," Arvard said. "I'm already low from the centuries of sleep."
Biltus quickly pulled away, respectfully bowing his head.
"Thank you, Master. I feel renewed."
Arvard muttered a brief spell, and the wound healed instantly.
"Now, tell me—what else should I know?"
Biltus sat straighter.
"There's nothing to fear. After your father's retreat, I used the Ampher name to rebuild. Cities were named after your family. Books, histories, legends—all written in your honor. Even this island—it's called Ampher Isles."
"Ampher Isles," Arvard repeated under his breath.
"The noble families remain loyal," Biltus continued. "Time changed the structure—we're more of a company now than a kingdom. But we own the largest share. The council answers to us. No one else."
"I'm sorry, Biltus," Arvard said, holding up the empty vial from earlier. "It'll take me all night to read through this person's memories. Some things you say… still don't make sense."
"My apologies, my lord," Biltus said humbly. "It's my burden to explain them better."
"Whose blood was this?" Arvard asked, examining the vial more closely.
Biltus shifted uneasily.
"Is something wrong, my prince?"
"He suffered. A great deal. Especially near the end."
"I'm sorry," Biltus said quickly. "I gave my men strict instructions to find someone perfect."
Arvard's eyes narrowed.
"He died heartbroken… What about Saina?"
Biltus sighed.
"She… survived. The lone survivor of the Treffin family."
"The only one? Where is she now?" Arvard asked softly.
*"She woke around fifty—maybe sixty—years ago. Lives a quiet life now. A teacher. Rarely attends meetings. But every time we speak, she asks the same question: 'When will you wake him?'"
Arvard's lips twitched into a faint smile.
"Her hair… still green?"
Biltus chuckled.
"Yes. Still drawing attention."
Arvard took another sip of wine.
"The Silver Warriors. Tell me they're all gone."
"Last sighting was nineteen years ago," Biltus said. "They've been silent ever since. Most believe they were wiped out."
"Belief is not truth," Arvard said firmly. "Don't underestimate them. I want you to investigate. I find it hard to believe they've done nothing… not even to your vampire school."
"As you wish," Biltus nodded.
Suddenly, the car came to a halt. The doors clicked open.
Biltus quickly stepped out and hurried to Arvard's side.
"We've arrived, my prince. This is my estate—your estate, in the Isles."
Arvard stepped out slowly. Before him stood a vast white mansion with towering windows and a garden large enough to be a park.
"It stretches across one hundred and ten acres—covers nearly half the island," Biltus explained.
But Arvard didn't reply. His eyes were locked on the sky, where the full moon glowed brightly above the mansion.
"Show me my room," Arvard said at last. "And bring me more of that man's blood. A single vial won't quench a thousand years of thirst."
He paused at the door.
"Also… tell no one I've returned. I'm not ready for attention."
Biltus smiled.
"I thought the same. That's why no servant or family member is allowed in this part of the mansion."
Inside, the interior gleamed with warm golden light. Twin staircases curved to the upper floors, and beyond them, a massive glass door led into a moonlit garden at the center of the mansion.
"Follow me, my prince," Biltus said, leading him up the right staircase.
At the top, he opened a large oak door and stepped aside. Arvard entered.
The room was quiet, dimly lit. Through the window, the moon shone fully, casting blue and silver reflections across the floor.
"It's perfect," Arvard said. "Now leave me for a while, Biltus."
Biltus bowed deeply and exited without a word.
Arvard stepped to the window, placing a hand on the glass.
"I can't wait to see you again," he whispered. "Eleena…"
A single tear fell from his right eye.
Meanwhile, in the girls' hostel…
A young girl with black hair and deep, dark eyes sat by her window, gazing at the moon.
For reasons she could never explain, tears welled in her eyes every time she looked at it.
She wiped them away, whispering to herself:
"Why does this always happen…?"