Ayra explained to me that in the kingdom of Mildelar, familiars, when not busy with tasks like fighting or serving as food for their mistresses, are locked inside what vampires call dormitories.
In reality, they are prisons—or at least that's what the Lunae Novae dormitory is.
This dormitory hosts all familiars with a ranking lower than 500—over a thousand in total.
Those ranked from 499 to 50 live instead in the more comfortable Lunae Crescentis dormitory, while the top fifty reside in the Lunae Plenae dormitory, which Ayra described as a luxury resort.
The Lunae Novae dormitory, reserved for the weakest, is a real dump.
It is made up of rooms—or better, cells—each shared by two people, small and completely without furniture.
At least we are allowed to move freely inside the gigantic building, which has more than twenty floors, each with thirty rooms.
The first floor is the canteen—though I'd rather not imagine the "delicacies" they serve there—while the underground level is the storage, whose access is strictly forbidden to familiars.
Luckily, at least there is room service, and I'll definitely choose that: today I have no desire to socialize.
As if that wasn't enough, my cellmate is… Gerard Volkom.
Yes, that Gerard Volkom, Priscilla's familiar—the one I humiliated this morning.
Judging by his expression, he's not taking the defeat well.
I lie on my cot, staring at the gray ceiling of damp, moldy stone, the room dimly lit by a pale moonlight.
Beyond the window—barred with iron rods—there is nothing but an endless stretch of sand and rocks.
I wonder in what damned corner of N'Raeth we've been locked away...
Gerard, lying on the cot beside mine, interrupts my thoughts with his deep, cavernous voice.
«Lyon Volkom. That's your name, right?»
«Y-Yes...» I mutter, intimidated by his tone.
«You're strong, boy!» he exclaims. «My mistress says you only beat me by sheer luck, a stroke of fortune so rare it sounds like a legend. But I don't believe that. In a fight, the strongest always wins, not the luckiest. I've already started training harder, and the next time we fight, I'm sure I'll be the one to win!»
Despite his stern tone, his words sound truly friendly, and I let out a sigh of relief.
At least I won't have a roommate who makes this surreal situation even worse.
«Your mistress—Priscilla—she's pretty hard on you, isn't she?» I ask, my eyes fixed on the fresh whip marks and scars covering his muscular body.
«No more than any other vampire...» he replies with a resigned sigh. «…she's just particularly showy, that's all.»
«And all those marks on your body?» I press.
«Why do you think they force us to wear these uniforms that cover everything?» Gerard retorts. «Seeing familiars fight covered in bruises, cuts and burns isn't elegant for those refined beasts thirsty for blood. You've just arrived, so you can't know yet, but you'll realize it the moment you lose your first fight. For your own good, I hope it happens as late as possible.»
«Ayra isn't that kind of vampire.»
«I thought the same about Priscilla, believe me…»
Gerard's gaze drifts into the darkness of the room.
«...but only after my first defeat did I truly understand what those bastards are capable of. Sadistic, ruthless, finding the greatest pleasure in watching us slaughter each other like dogs. And Viktor's daughters are the worst, from the youngest to the oldest, Ayra included.»
A shiver of terror runs through my bones, paralyzing my muscles.
My mouth stays shut, my mind too shaken by all this information to form a response.
«You can't even imagine what those bastards are capable of…» Gerard continues, his tone growing more irritated. «Old Dorje Volkom, Sasha's familiar—the woman you met today at the training camp—told me, before being promoted to the Lunae Crescentis dormitory, that after every defeat she pissed on his wounds. Once his body was soaked in urine, she sent a brutal electric shock through her magic… I feel sick just thinking about it! Priscilla's whippings are nothing compared to what other familiars endure.»
«I can't believe Ayra is that kind of person…» I insist again.
Gerard's voice grows harsh and severe. «Boy, you need to understand they are not people; they are monsters who take pleasure in our suffering! Words like mercy or compassion don't exist in their world. The sooner you accept it, the less disappointed you'll be when you see the truth with your own eyes!»