*"Sometimes, what saves us is exactly what damns us."*
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The wooden blade sliced through the air with a pathetic whistle before crashing against the stone wall with a sharp crack. Around me, laughter erupted like whip cracks.
"Another miss, Vorthak!" Marcus Brightshield called from the training arena's stands, his voice carrying that natural arrogance that seemed to flow in the veins of all sacred bloodlines. "At this rate, even the sewer rats would defend themselves better than you!"
My cheeks burned. Eighteen years old, and I was still here, in this damned academy, failing in front of a hundred students who looked at me like a circus animal. Third attempt at final exams. Last in my class. The only one without the slightest manifestation of bloodline power.
Kain Vorthak, the absolute failure.
"Focus, Vorthak," Master Aurelius growled from the arena's center, his golden hair glowing with supernatural light. A subtle demonstration of his sacred bloodline mastery—as if I needed reminding of how ordinary I was. "Three weeks until final exams. If you fail again..."
He didn't need to finish. Everyone knew the rules: three failures at final exams meant permanent expulsion. Return to the home village. Eternal family shame. A laborer's life for someone who bore the name of one of the Empire's oldest dark bloodlines.
Well, *supposedly*. Because so far, I had about as much vampiric power as a rock.
I picked up the training sword, my hands trembling slightly. Fatigue, of course. Not fear. Never fear. The Vorthaks didn't know fear, according to the stories. They knew thirst, the hunt, and absolute domination of their enemies.
I mostly knew daily humiliation and mounting debts.
"Come on, Kain!" A female voice rose from the stands. I instinctively searched for the source but saw only a sea of mocking faces. Probably someone is making fun of me. Or worse, someone who pitied me.
I raised the sword again, trying to remember the techniques Master Aurelius had shown us. *High guard, right foot forward, wrist rotation...*
"Pathetic," Darius Blackthorn murmured beside me, loud enough for me to hear. The duke's son, future heir to a title and fortune beyond imagination. Perfectly styled black hair, impeccable posture, sacred bloodline so pure he glowed when he concentrated. But beneath that apparent perfection, I caught something else in his voice—a hint of uncertainty, almost despair. As if humiliating others was his way of masking his doubts. "My eight-year-old brother would fight better."
My hand clenched around the grip. Something hot and unpleasant rose in my throat—a sensation I'd learned to recognize these past months. Anger. Pure, burning, useless.
The sword whistled again. This time, it hit the target... before bouncing off limply without even leaving a scratch.
The explosion of laughter that followed echoed through the entire arena like thunder of contempt. I stood there, frozen, the sword hanging from my arm like a dead limb.
"Enough!" Master Aurelius's voice cracked through the air. "Class dismissed. Vorthak, stay."
Oh, perfect. A private humiliation to crown the public one.
The other students dispersed, chatting and laughing, their voices fading into the academy's stone corridors. Darius shot me one last look of disdain before leaving, flanked by his usual court of minor nobles.
When we were alone, Master Aurelius approached. Up close, you could see the wrinkles around his eyes—years of training young bloodlines to serve the Empire. Years of seeing prodigies master in weeks what I failed to understand in three years.
"Kain," he said, and for once, his voice was devoid of its usual impatience. Almost... compassionate? "We need to talk."
My stomach knotted. "If this is to explain that I'm a failure, I've already got the message."
"No." He sighed and sat on a bench, gesturing for me to do the same. "It's to tell you there might be an... alternative."
I sat, wary. In my experience, when adults talked about "alternatives," it usually meant something humiliating or dangerous.
"The year-end exams include a practical trial in the portals," he continued. "Normally, students of your... level don't participate. But if you agreed to volunteer for an exploration mission in a C-Portal..."
"A C-Portal?" My voice cracked slightly. Even C-Portals—the "safest" of all—had a ten percent mortality rate for students. "You want me to commit suicide?"
"I want to give you a chance to prove your worth in ways other than swordplay." His golden eyes fixed on me intensely. "Sometimes, Kain, our true nature only reveals itself when facing absolute danger."
*Our true nature.* The words hung in the air between us. Had he guessed? Was it so obvious that I bore the name of a bloodline I couldn't manifest?
"I... I need to think about it."
"Of course." He stood, dusting off his instructor's robe. "But don't think too long. Places are limited, and other struggling students..."
He didn't need to finish. I knew exactly which other students. Those who, like me, found themselves on the academic precipice but who at least had the decency to have *some* magical abilities.
After he left, I remained alone in the empty arena. The silence weighed like a lead blanket. Outside, I could hear the other students' voices heading toward the dormitories, probably to prepare for dinner. Normal lives. Assured futures.
I had the choice between the humiliation of expulsion and probable death in a dimensional portal.
Great.
I finally got up and headed toward the dormitories, still carrying the training sword. My feet carried me mechanically through the academy's marble corridors, under portraits of former students who had become heroes, generals, or emperors. Their painted eyes seemed to judge me with each step.
*You'll never be like them.*
*You're just a failure.*
*You don't even deserve the name you bear.*
But why go back there? To listen to Darius and his clique celebrate my afternoon's humiliation? To see their looks of pity or contempt? No. My steps slowed, then stopped completely in front of a side corridor I knew well—the one leading to the old basement kitchens.
The voices in my head were getting louder and louder, but now I had a plan. Not to return to my room. Not to face the laughter and whispers. I just wanted to... disappear. For a moment. Time to breathe without someone reminding me of my failure.
When I finally arrived at the dormitories later, hoping to discreetly retrieve some belongings, I found my possessions piled in front of my door. An official note bearing the academy's coat of arms was pinned to my bag.
*Due to persistent unpaid debts, this room will be reassigned starting tomorrow morning. Your personal effects must be collected before midnight, failing which...*
I dropped the note without finishing it. In my pocket, the crumpled paper of the administration letter seemed to weigh a thousand tons. *Final reminder: The balance of 200 gold pieces...* Two hundred gold pieces. Might as well be a fortune for someone like me. Without a scholarship—revoked after my second exam failure—and without family to help me, I was doomed.
The key finally appeared at the bottom of my boot, where I'd slipped it out of habit. I gathered my belongings with a bitterness that burned my throat. It was over. Everything was over.
Dormitory eviction, impossible debts to repay, and in three weeks, definitive academic expulsion. I would officially be the biggest failure in the academy's recent history.
A sob escaped me, then another. I clenched my fists so tight that my nails dug into my palms, hoping the physical pain would chase away the other, the one crushing my chest like a vise.
*Pathetic.* Darius's voice still echoed in my head. *My eight-year-old brother would fight better.*
He was right. Everyone was right. I was pathetic.
But something in me rebelled against this acceptance. A small voice, tenacious, that refused to be silenced: *What if you never had the chance to show what you're capable of? What if all this time, you'd been looking for your strength in the wrong place?*
I stood up abruptly, wiping my cheeks with an angry sleeve. Enough. Enough crying, enough self-pity, enough of everything. If I were going to fail anyway, I might as well try something different. Something no one expected from the "academy failure."
I gathered my belongings in a worn travel bag and left the room without looking back. My footsteps echoed in the deserted corridors as I headed toward... somewhere. Anywhere rather than these walls that had witnessed my daily humiliation.
The academy was vast, with many nooks and little-frequented passages. I knew these places well—I'd spent three years using them to avoid confrontations and mockery. There was an old door in the basement, near the old kitchens, that led to a network of abandoned sewers. No one ever went there.
Perfect for someone who wanted to disappear.
The door creaked open, revealing a stone staircase that plunged into darkness. A smell of dampness and mustiness slapped my face. I hesitated for a moment—these tunnels had a reputation for being dangerous, infested with creatures that had escaped from nearby C-Portals—then shrugged.
What worse could happen to me?
I descended the steps, my bag on my shoulder and the training sword still in my hand. Darkness gradually engulfed me, but my eyes adapted faster than I would have thought. Strange. Usually, I had trouble seeing in the dark.
The tunnel stretched before me, its stone walls seeping with moisture. Phosphorescent moss grew in places, diffusing a faint greenish glow. In the distance, I could hear the lapping of water and other less identifiable sounds.
I walked aimlessly, letting my feet choose the direction. The tunnels branched in all directions, forming a true labyrinth beneath the academy. Some passages were so narrow you had to squeeze through sideways, others so wide you could roll a cart through them.
After an hour—or maybe two, time lost its meaning in these depths—I arrived in a vast circular chamber. The ceiling disappeared into darkness, and several tunnels converged toward this central point. In the middle, an old decorative fountain let a trickle of clear water escape.
I sat on the stone edge and placed my bag beside me. The silence was total, broken only by the water's murmur. For the first time in months, I felt... peaceful. Here, no one could judge me. No one knew my name or my failures. I was just... me.
That's when I heard it.
A scratching. Light, but distinct. Something was moving in one of the tunnels.
I froze, my hand instinctively tightening on the training sword. *Probably just a rat*, I told myself. *Or a wild cat.*
The scratching was getting closer. And with it, a... particular smell. Metallic and sickly sweet at once, like heated copper mixed with rotten honey.
My nostrils flared despite myself. This smell... it triggered something in me. Something I couldn't identify, but that made my heart race and sharpened my senses.
The creature emerged from the darkest tunnel.
At first glance, it looked like a large rat. But looking closer, you could see the wrong details: the too-intelligent eyes, ruby red that glowed in the darkness. The too-long claws that rang against the stone like blades. And above all, this aura... malevolent, corrosive, that made you want to run screaming.
A portal escapee. One of those corrupted creatures that sometimes crossed dimensions and infested our world.
I should be terrified. I should run. Instead, I stood slowly, sword raised before me, and something strange happened.
I was hungry.
Not for food. A different hunger, deeper. A hunger that devoured my stomach and made my hands tremble. My canines ached, as if they wanted to pierce my gums.
The creature looked at me, its red eyes narrowed, and hissed, almost like laughter. Then it leaped.
My reflexes took over. I'd never been good with a sword, but there, something was different. My movements were more fluid, faster. The wooden sword sliced through the air and struck the creature mid-flight, sending it rolling across the stone floor.
It got up immediately, apparently unharmed, and charged again. This time, its claws found their mark and tore my tunic, tracing three bloody lines on my left arm.
The pain made me hiss through my teeth, but it was immediately replaced by something else. A cold, calculating rage. And above all, this devouring hunger that consumed me from within.
A shiver of horror ran down my spine. *What's happening to me? What is this... thirst?* But even as I asked the question, a part of me—a dark and hungry part—already knew the answer. And this part demanded more.
The creature prepared for a third assault, but this time, I was faster. I dropped the sword and dove toward it, my bare hands extended before me, driven by an instinct I didn't understand but that seemed etched in my bones.
Contact.
The world exploded in sensations.
The creature's life energy flooded into me like a torrent, burning and intoxicating. I felt each of its emotions—surprise, fear, then indescribable agony as I drained its life force. My wounds closed instantly. My muscles swelled with power. My vision became so sharp I could count every grain of dust in the air.
The creature withered between my hands, its fur becoming dull, its eyes losing their ruby gleam. In seconds, only an empty shell remained, a desiccated body that crumbled to dust when I released it.
I remained kneeling on the stone floor, panting, my hands trembling before me. Deep disgust overwhelmed me—not from the drain itself, but from the pleasure I'd taken in it. This satisfied hunger, this intoxication of power... it was exactly what the legends told about vampires. The blood-thirsty monsters.
*What was I becoming?*
What had just happened? What had I done? And above all, why did part of me want to do it again?
"Impressive."
I jumped and spun around. A silhouette stood at the entrance of one of the tunnels—a young girl about my age, with long chestnut hair and deep green eyes that seemed to glow with an inner light.
Elena Drakemoor. I knew her by sight—hard to ignore when she was one of the few academy students with authentic prophetic visions. Professors sometimes consulted her, and other students looked at her with a mixture of respect and mistrust.
What was she doing here?
"You... you saw?" I stammered, desperately trying to find a plausible explanation for what had just occurred.
She approached, her steps silent on the damp stone. Her expression was... curious? Not terrified, not disgusted. Just... intrigued.
"I saw," she said simply. "And I must say it was exactly what my visions had shown me."
"Your visions?"
"Mmm." She stopped a few meters from me, close enough for me to see the details of her face—the freckles on her cheeks, the small scar near her left eyebrow, the sharp intelligence that shone in her eyes. "I've been dreaming of you for weeks, Kain Vorthak. A lost boy who discovers what he truly is in the darkness, away from prying eyes."
My name on her lips made me shiver. "You know who I am?"
"Everyone knows who you are." A sad smile stretched her lips. "The famous failure. The one who bears a legendary name without being able to honor it. Except that..." She gestured to the dusty remains of the creature. "It would seem you simply needed the right... catalyst."
I instinctively stepped back. "I don't know what happened. It wasn't... I didn't want to..."
"You didn't want to what? Survive? Discover that you are exactly what your name suggests?" She tilted her head, studying me like a fascinating specimen. "You're a vampire, Kain. A real one. I can sense it now—this aura, this power simmering beneath the surface."
*Vampire.* The word resonated in my head like a gong. Of course. It was obvious, now that someone had said it aloud. The hunger, the thirst for life energy, the way I'd drained that creature...
"My ancestors," I murmured. "The Vorthaks were..."
"Vampires. Yes." She sat gracefully on the fountain's edge, as if we were discussing the weather and not my transformation into a nightmare creature. "Kaelen Vorthak, your ancestor, was one of the most powerful of his time. Until he was assassinated and his bloodline was... scattered."
"And you're not afraid?" The words came out more bitter than I'd intended. "You're not going to run and tell the authorities that the academy failure is a blood-thirsty monster?"
Her laughter tinkled in the cavern like silver bells. "Afraid? Kain, I've spent my entire life having visions of possible futures. Wars, deaths, catastrophes. And do you know what I've seen most often these past months?"
I shook my head.
"You." Her green eyes fixed on me intensely. "Not the academy failure. Not the humiliated boy who misses every sword strike. You, as you truly are. Powerful. Dangerous. And crucial to this Empire's future."
"You're delusional." But even saying it, I felt something in me—a spark of... what? Hope? Pride? "I'm nobody. I'm nothing."
"You are a Vorthak." She stood and approached even closer, until I could smell her perfume—something floral mixed with the scent of ancient parchment. "And whether you like it or not, that makes you someone important. Very important."
"Even if it were true..." I looked at my hands, still trembling with residual energy from the drain. "Even if I had these powers... What good would it do? In three weeks, I'll be expelled. In twenty-four hours, I'll be on the street."
"Unless..." She let her sentence hang, a mysterious smile on her lips.
"Unless what?"
"Unless you accept help from someone who has spent her life studying dark bloodlines. Someone who understands what you're going through. Someone who might have a few ideas on how to... circumvent your current problems."
I stared at her, incredulous. "You'd want to help me? Why?"
"Because my visions never lie. And according to them, our destinies are linked, Kain Vorthak." She extended her hand toward me, palm open. "The question is: are you ready to discover who you truly are?"
I looked at her outstretched hand, then at her face. There was something in her eyes—a sincerity, a determination that reminded me of... me. Well, what I would have liked to be. Someone who knew what they wanted and wasn't afraid to reach for it.
For the first time in months, in years perhaps, I felt that strange and almost forgotten sensation called hope.
I took her hand.
"All right," I said, and my voice sounded firmer than I'd heard it in a long time. "Show me."
Her smile widened, illuminating her entire face. "Excellent. In that case, we'd better go back up. We have a lot of work ahead of us, and very little time."
"We?"
"Of course, we." She released my hand and headed toward one of the tunnels, gesturing for me to follow. "You didn't think I was going to let you navigate through all this alone, did you?"
As we left the cavern, leaving behind the dusty remains of my first victim, I felt something change in me. It wasn't just the new powers running through my veins like an intoxicating drug. It was something else.
For the first time in my life, I was no longer alone.
And maybe—maybe-I was finally about to discover who I truly was.
Behind us, in the cavern's darkness, something moved. A shadow that wasn't one, a whisper that almost sounded like a name.
*Kaelen.*
But we were already too far away to hear it.
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**END OF CHAPTER 1**