When the treeline finally began to thin, Caelum slowed. Something stirred in the air.
Thousands of leaves broke loose above him—not from a single tree, but from every branch in sight. They twirled downward in a rain of green and gold, showering him until the ground seemed to glow. Not a single leaf touched the vampire. All of them landed on Caelum, brushing against his shoulders, hair, and hands like a farewell blessing.
It was not suffocating. It was not hostile. The forest was beating him forward, like a flower girl scattering petals before a bride.
For the first time in years, Caelum smiled.
The vampire paused, watching him with narrowed eyes. "You have such a high affinity to the land. Are you an elf?" His tone was half-curious, half-mocking. "But you don't seem one bit like them."
Caelum's smile vanished into a glare. "Figure it out yourself." He turned his back and kept walking.
The vampire laughed softly. "Bold little beast. But tell me—where exactly do you think you're going? Without me, you'd be sold as a slave within the first hour. Your stench alone could fetch a low price." He wrinkled his nose deliberately. "Even some slaves have better hygiene than you. Let's find an inn first, wash you up, buy you some clothes. Right now your face is half-obscured by dirt—I can't even tell if you're ugly or not."
Caelum ignored him. But he could feel the words pricking at him. Slave. Stink. Dirt. He kept walking, jaw clenched, until the vampire caught up.
They crossed into the open plains, where the air felt sharper, thinner. Caelum inhaled deeply. It wasn't like the forest—it lacked its heavy pulse, its hidden dangers—but it had its own texture, a strange cleanliness that unsettled him.
The vampire reached into his coat, pulled out a small vial. Inside shimmered a red liquid that caught the sunlight like a gem. Without hesitation, he uncorked it and took a small sip.
The scent hit Caelum immediately. His stomach tightened, his fangs pressing faintly against his lips. It was not animal blood. It was thicker, warmer—more alive.
"That's blood," Caelum muttered, his gaze fixed on the vial.
The vampire raised a brow at his intensity. "What? Don't tell me you're a vampire."
"I'm not," Caelum said, voice low. "I just… want to see how it tastes."
The vampire chuckled darkly. "How it tastes? Our blood is made for it. Yours isn't."
"Let me try."
"Mm, persistent. Fine." The vampire swirled the vial. "But I don't have much left. I was saving this until I reached the city."
"I don't care."
The vampire shrugged, lips curling. "Then one sip. Just one."
Caelum took the vial. He didn't sip. He tilted his head back and downed it all in a single swallow.
The vampire froze.
Caelum licked his lips slowly. "…Delicious."
For the first time since they'd met, the vampire actually looked offended. His expression twisted between disbelief and amusement. Then he laughed, sharp and disbelieving. "Your blood had better be more than worth it, boy. If you weren't useful, I'd rip your throat out right now."
Caelum just smirked faintly, refusing to break eye contact.
---
By the time they reached the city, night had fallen. Lights burned along the walls, casting golden arcs across cobblestone streets. The gates were busy—merchants rolling carts, travelers shouting, guards checking papers.
Caelum stopped short. The sheer noise was overwhelming. Voices, wheels, boots, animals—it all pressed against him, harsher than any predator's roar. He stiffened, fangs itching.
The vampire's hand clamped casually on his shoulder. "Steady, beast. This is civilization. Get used to it."
They passed through the gates with barely a glance from the guards—one sharp look from the vampire was enough to part the way. Inside, the city stretched endlessly: lantern-lit alleys, markets overflowing with spices, fabrics, and trinkets, taverns spilling music and drunken laughter. The smell of roasted meat, sweat, and perfume tangled in the air.
Caelum's nose wrinkled. His instincts screamed predators everywhere. Yet he was more curious than afraid.
The vampire watched him carefully. "Your eyes are too wild. Tame them before someone notices."
"I'm not taming anything," Caelum muttered.
They reached an inn at the corner of a bustling street. Its sign was worn, its windows glowing with soft yellow light. The vampire pushed open the door, and the warmth of fire and chatter rolled over them.
The innkeeper froze the moment his eyes landed on the vampire. A quick bow, nervous, respectful. Without a word, he handed over a key.
"Two rooms," the vampire said smoothly. Then, glancing at Caelum, he smirked. "No, one is enough. He'll be sharing mine. I need to make sure my little stray doesn't wander off."
Caelum's eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. His muscles were too tight, his mind too full. The city, the people, the taste of human blood still lingering on his tongue—it was too much all at once.
He sank into the shadows of the room they were given, staring out the window at the endless sprawl of civilization.
For the first time in years, the forest was behind him.
And ahead… was Raven Academy.