The sprawling Moirel estate stood like a silent sanctuary on the edge of the human realm, shrouded by silver birch trees and protected by ancient enchantments that bent even time around its borders. The air was still, thick with old magic and the scent of moon herbs.
As their carriage pulled up, Nyra Moirel was already waiting at the steps. Tall and graceful, her eyes shimmered like molten silver, ancient and wise. Her hair flowed like dusk, braided with threads of power. She was not just a witch—she was one of the old ones, a Seer with the blood of both elf and sorceress.
She greeted them with a serene smile.
> "Welcome, child," Nyra said gently, her gaze falling on Lysandra. "And you, Kylan… I see you've brought something more than a guest to my door."
Lysandra bowed slightly, keeping her face lowered. "Thank you for receiving us on such short notice."
> "I've long prepared this place for the day you'd arrive, Selene," Nyra murmured as she stepped aside.
Lysandra stiffened.
Nyra only smiled knowingly and led them inside.
---
That evening, after supper, Nyra asked Kylan to help her reinforce the border spells. He hesitated, glancing at Lysandra, but she nodded gently. "Go."
When Lysandra returned to her chamber, the candles were already lit. Moonlight filtered through the tall windows, catching the pale curve of her belly. She sat by the hearth, rubbing her stomach absently.
The door creaked.
Nyra entered without knocking, silent as shadow.
Lysandra stood quickly, her heart in her throat.
Nyra's voice was soft. "Why do you carry such a heavy burden, child?"
Lysandra tried to maintain composure. "We needed somewhere safe. Until I give birth."
Nyra walked slowly into the room, her bare feet making no sound against the stone. "You're hiding… but not from war. You are hiding from truth." Her voice lowered. "You're not just a witch. I smell more on you… older magic. Older blood. You are not young, and you are not only what you claim to be."
Lysandra's breath caught. She turned away, facing the fire.
> "You're the first vampire daughter," Nyra said finally, her eyes glowing in the hearthlight. "The daughter born of blood and spell. I thought your kind had long vanished."
Lysandra closed her eyes. "I am Lysandra. Selene is just a name buried in history… one I thought I'd never wear again."
She turned back to face Nyra, her voice trembling. "Please, don't tell anyone. The child I carry… they cannot know. The Council cannot know."
Nyra's expression softened. "And Kylan? Is he the child's father?"
Lysandra looked down.
> "No," she whispered. "He offered to protect us. But the truth… the father is already married. His blood flows with power that would attract every eye in the realm. If they find out… if he finds out…"
Her voice broke.
Nyra stepped closer and reached for her hand. "The bond was severed. I felt the cut in the ley lines. A dangerous spell, done by someone desperate."
Lysandra nodded.
> "Then it is done," Nyra said solemnly. "You will remain here, hidden, protected. The wards will veil you and your child. But be warned, child of moon and blood—when the child awakens, not even the veil of the old world can hide them forever."
Lysandra clutched her stomach, fear and love knotting inside her heart. "Then I'll protect her for as long as I can."
Carlos arrived at the Moirel estate under the cover of dawn.
The sky was still draped in silver mist, the trees standing like silent sentinels as he approached the ancient stone manor hidden deep within the forest. Despite its calm exterior, Carlos felt a ripple of ancient power embedded in the land—something old, something that called to memory and blood.
The door opened before he could knock.
Nyra stood on the threshold.
> "You've come to see if she is safe," she said softly.
Carlos gave a slow nod. "I had to see for myself. She's my sister."
Nyra's eyes gleamed like mercury, ancient and unreadable. "She is safe. For now."
He stepped inside, glancing around the enchanted halls. The magic in the walls pulsed with deep roots, older than modern sorcery. He could feel it.
> "This place…" Carlos murmured. "It was built on old ley lines, connected to the blood of the ancients. You're not just a Seer, are you?"
Nyra turned away, walking ahead toward the hearth room. "You feel it, don't you? You always could."
Carlos followed, his boots echoing softly on the stone. "I knew someone like you. A long time ago. Her name was Lucille—Lucifer's eighth child. She was fire and fury, madness and grief. But she disappeared before the war ended."
Nyra stopped by the fire.
> "Lucille did not die," she said at last. "She chose to be reborn… as me."
Carlos froze.
> "You… are her," he whispered, his eyes narrowing. "But your magic—this is not demonic. It feels… pure. Restrained."
Nyra nodded. "Because I was not born from hellfire alone this time. My soul chose a new lineage—one rooted in the Moirel clan, through Lysus of Dracon. A blend of chaos and wisdom. I was given a chance to be something different… until they came."
Carlos tensed. "Who?"
> "The Crimson Order," she said, her voice lowering. "They found me years ago. They sought to awaken the old bloodlines to prepare the resurrection of Lucifer. They thought by awakening Lucille, they would bring back the blood spark necessary for his return."
She looked at him with eyes no longer human.
> "But they were wrong. I refused. I sealed myself… until she found me."
Carlos's heart beat louder. "Who?"
> "Maika Vellaria," Nyra whispered. "Daughter of the Vellaria bloodline. She came during a purge, her magic raw but bright. She felt my power. She could have killed me… but instead, she protected me. She hid my existence from the Crimson Order, from the Council, even from her own kin. She saved me from myself."
Carlos slowly sat down. "Maika… always did have a strange gift for seeing past the surface."
He looked at Nyra sharply. "Are you still loyal to the Order?"
> "No," Nyra said with steel in her tone. "I am not the creature they wanted. I am Nyra Moirel. Witch, Seer, guardian of this house—and protector of Lysandra's secret."
Carlos leaned back, running a hand down his face. "You're hiding two legends here: a vampire princess who severed her bond with the father of her child, and a reborn daughter of Lucifer."
Nyra smirked. "The irony is not lost on me."
> "Does Kylan know?" he asked.
> "No," she replied. "And he must never know. His faith is pure. He protects Lysandra without question. That must be preserved."
Carlos stood. "You're asking a lot of me."
> "I'm asking you to trust me," Nyra said, rising to her full, majestic height. "As you once trusted Lucille, even when she walked the edge of the abyss. I am not that version. Not anymore."
Carlos studied her, then slowly nodded.
> "Then I will tell no one," he said. "But if the Crimson Order comes again…"
> "I'll burn them to ash," Nyra whispered.
They stood there for a long moment, bound by memory, power, and an unspoken understanding.
Outside, the morning sun rose higher—but within the Moirel estate, shadows of the past stirred once more.