The sea whispered against the cliffs of Aegira as twilight descended. The mortal world shimmered in gold, but Ana could no longer see it as simple beauty. Every wave reminded her that she didn't belong here — she was a goddess forced to live among fragile creatures who lived, loved, and died too easily.
She sat on the stone balcony of the small inn where Eryx had found her. The night breeze tangled her hair as she traced the scar on her wrist — the mark of Athena's curse. It burned faintly whenever she thought of home.
"Still awake?"
Eryx's voice came from behind, low and calm, like the murmur of dark waters. He stepped into the moonlight, holding two cups of something steaming.
Ana smiled weakly. "Do mortals ever sleep early?"
He chuckled and handed her a cup. "Not the ones haunted by questions."
Ana took a sip — warm, sweet, strange. "What is it?"
"Herbal tea. Helps humans rest." He paused, eyes catching the moonlight. "You need rest more than anyone."
"I don't sleep much," she murmured. "Dreams come too easily."
Eryx leaned on the railing beside her. "Dreams can be good."
"Not mine."
He studied her face. The shadows beneath her eyes, the way her gaze seemed to pierce the horizon — she was unlike any woman he'd met. Elegant yet lost, strong yet trembling. There was something divine about her, though he couldn't explain why it made his chest ache.
After a while, Ana broke the silence. "You said once you lived here alone. Why?"
Eryx smiled faintly. "Some of us prefer solitude. The world... isn't kind to what it doesn't understand."
She tilted her head. "And what are you that the world doesn't understand?"
For a heartbeat, his eyes glimmered crimson — so faint she almost thought she imagined it. "A mistake," he said softly.
The answer chilled her, though she didn't know why.
---
Later that night, Ana walked down to the shore. The moonlight spilled across the waves like liquid silver. She removed her sandals, letting the cold water touch her feet. Every step reminded her she was human — her skin could bruise, her lungs could tire, her heart could break.
She whispered to the sea, "Mother, are you watching me?"
No answer came. Only the sigh of the tide.
Suddenly, she felt a prickle down her spine — a strange energy, sharp and alive. She turned.
In the distance, Eryx stood among the rocks, watching her. His posture was still, but his eyes… they were not human now.
They glowed faintly red, reflecting the moon like blood in water.
Ana froze. "Eryx?"
He blinked once — and when she looked again, his eyes were normal. "You shouldn't walk alone at night," he said, his voice calm, but something in it had changed — colder, restrained.
Ana's heartbeat quickened. "You were watching me?"
"I heard you leave," he said simply. "Old habits die hard."
"What habits?" she asked, but he only smiled, faint and unreadable.
The air between them was heavy. She should have felt fear, but she didn't. She felt curiosity — and something she didn't want to name.
---
That night, Ana dreamed again.
She was standing in a marble hall filled with broken mirrors. From every reflection, snakes slithered — green, gold, and black. In the center stood a woman with hair made of serpents, eyes full of tears.
"You are her daughter," the woman whispered. "The one born of wisdom."
"Who are you?" Ana asked, trembling.
"I was beauty once. Priestess. Lover. Monster. I am Medusa."
Ana's breath caught. "You… the cursed one."
Medusa smiled sadly. "Cursed by your mother's hand. But my blood lives on — and it remembers."
Suddenly, behind Medusa, a shadow appeared — tall, male, with eyes like burning coals. His voice was deep and cold:
> "Mother, your vengeance is mine."
Ana woke with a gasp. The room was dark. Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might burst.
Through the open window, she heard faint footsteps outside.
Without thinking, she grabbed a shawl and stepped into the corridor. The inn was silent except for the creak of wood and the whisper of wind. She followed the sound down the stairs and into the courtyard.
There, in the moonlight, stood Eryx.
His shirt was torn, and his hands were red — not with paint, but blood.
Ana froze. "Eryx… what have you done?"
He turned sharply, hiding his hands behind his back. "Go inside."
"Whose blood is that?" she demanded.
He looked away. "A thief. He attacked one of the travelers."
"Then where is he?"
"Gone," he said quietly.
She stepped closer, her voice trembling. "You're lying."
For a long moment, Eryx said nothing. Then, he looked up — and his eyes glowed again, bright and terrible.
Ana stumbled back. "What are you?"
He stepped forward slowly, the moonlight catching his fangs. "You shouldn't have followed me."
Fear finally hit her — sharp and real. "You're—"
"Yes," he whispered. "A vampire."
The word hung between them like a curse.
But instead of attacking, he turned away, his voice breaking. "You shouldn't have known. I didn't want you to see this side."
"Then why save me? Why pretend?" she cried.
Eryx's shoulders shook. "Because I wanted to feel human again."
The confession pierced her heart. For a moment, she saw not a monster but a man haunted by something greater than hunger — guilt, sorrow, loneliness.
"You kill to live," she whispered.
"I kill to survive," he said, looking at her with despair. "You wouldn't understand."
Ana stepped forward. "Maybe I would."
He laughed bitterly. "No, you wouldn't. You're pure. Untouched by blood and darkness."
If only he knew the truth — that she too was cursed, that her divine blood was chained in mortal flesh.
"Then teach me," she said softly.
Eryx stared at her, stunned. "You don't know what you're asking."
"I do. If you live in shadow, I want to see it. If you suffer, I want to understand."
The wind blew between them, carrying the scent of sea salt and iron.
For the first time, Eryx looked at her not as prey, but as something sacred — something that reminded him of everything he'd lost.
He whispered, "You should hate me."
"I don't," she said, though tears filled her eyes. "I don't even know why."
---
As dawn broke, Ana sat alone on the balcony again, watching the first light touch the waves. Her mind raced with what she had seen — Medusa's voice, Eryx's truth, the curse that tied them all together.
Somewhere deep inside, she knew this was no coincidence.
The gods had sent her here for a reason — and that reason wore the face of a vampire who carried her family's sins.
The sea glowed crimson as the sun rose.
Ana whispered, "If this is my punishment, then let it be mine to bear."
Behind her, Eryx watched from the shadows, the first rays burning his skin — yet he didn't move.
Because for the first time in centuries, he felt something stronger than pain.
He felt hope.