Page 26

26

GAIDA

I walk alongside Luke and Dante, heading toward the dining hall. My mind races with questions, each more unsettling than the last.

“We need to keep this contained,” Luke says, lowering his voice as we pass a group of students. “The last thing we need is widespread panic.”

“Too late for that,” Dante replies, nodding toward the students who stare at us as we pass. “Word spreads quickly here.”

“Not necessarily the truth, though,” I point out. “The rumour mill is always hard at work.”

Luke sighs. “Let them continue believing that it’s the artefacts gone haywire for now.”

The corridor stretches before us, oddly elongated. I blink, uncertain if my perception or the corridor has altered. The walls are vibrating wildly.

“Are you okay?” Dante asks, catching my hesitation.

“Fine,” I lie, shaking my head to clear it. “Just tired and hungry.”

We continue walking, but with each step, the corridor stretches further. Luke and Dante don’t seem to notice, their conversation continuing as normal, though their voices grow distant despite their proximity. My vision blurs at the edges, darkness creeping in.

It consumes everything except a thin pathway ahead. The corridor vanishes, replaced by a vast, unfamiliar landscape. Stone ruins circle me, ancient pillars rising toward a sky split with colours I’ve never seen before.

Luke and Dante are gone. I stand alone.

No. Not alone.

A woman emerges from between the pillars, her movements fluid and deliberate. She looks like me, or rather, I look like her. The resemblance is unsettling. Same face structure, same height, but her eyes are cold, her attitude way bitchier than mine.

“At last,” she purrs. “Face to face.”

I back away instinctively. “Blood Queen, I presume.”

She smiles icily. “Is that what they call me now? So dramatic. I once had a name, though it has been lost to time.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Want?” She laughs, the sound sharp and cold. “I want nothing. You are me, and I am you. The power has returned to its rightful place.”

“I’m not you,” I insist, anger flaring. “I’m nothing like you.”

“You resist because you don’t understand.” She glides closer, circling me. “You’ve been told fragments of history, distorted by time and fear. Let me show you the truth.”

Before I can object, the ruins around us dissolve. We stand at the centre of an ancient ritual, figures in robes moving in precise patterns, chanting in a language that sounds familiar despite my never having heard it before.

“The beginning,” the Blood Queen narrates, her presence beside me now more shadow than substance. “When the worlds were one, and chaos reigned.”

The vision shifts, showing terrible creatures moving between realities, bringing destruction wherever they passed. Beings of impossible composition, neither fully physical nor spiritual.

“The chaos-bringers,” she explains. “They thrived in the spaces between realities, feeding on the energy of transition. As long as the worlds remained unified, they grew stronger.”

Another shift, and now I see the Blood Queen standing before a council of various beings.

“The separation was necessary but temporary,” a male's voice continues. “The worlds had to be pulled apart, boundaries established to trap the chaos-bringers and prevent their movement.”

The ritual unfolds before us. A massive working of magick that tears reality into distinct planes, each separated by veils of energy.

“But separation brings its own problems,” the Blood Queen says. “The veils require guardians, beings who could exist partly in each world, monitoring the boundaries, strengthening weak points.”

I watch as the first vampires are created, gifted with immortality, strength, and the ability to sense the veils between worlds.

“Guardians,” she says sharply. “Their purpose was sacred.”

The vision changes again, showing centuries passing. The first vampires creating others, spreading across the worlds, establishing themselves in positions of power.

“The separation was always meant to be temporary,” the Blood Queen continues. “Once the chaos-bringers were weakened sufficiently, the worlds could be safely reunited. That was their plan. But they forgot their purpose,” she says, bitterness edging her voice. “They grew comfortable with their separated worlds, enjoying their power, their status. When I wanted reunification, they turned against me.”

The vision shows conflict. The Blood Queen battling against those who once followed her. Her defeat, her power fractured and distributed, her consciousness preserved within that power.

“They called me mad,” she says. “They claimed reunification would destroy everything. But they were wrong. Separation is the unnatural state. The worlds call to each other across the void. Can you not feel it?”

I can feel it. It’s a pulling sensation, as if the fabric of reality stretches toward something beyond itself.

“Now my power returns,” she says, standing before me once more in the stone circle. “Through you, I will complete what has begun. The worlds will be one again, as they were meant to be. The time has come. You feel it too, the rightness of it. The power within you responds to this truth.”

“The power within me is mine,” I insist. “Not yours to command.”

She laughs again, the sound echoing across the stone circle. “Such determination. Such fire. So like me. But the power was always mine, child. You are merely in the right place at the right time. Temporary.”

“Temporary?” The word sends a chill through me.

“The final reunification requires sacrifice,” she says, her voice softening with false compassion. “The conduit cannot survive the merging of all realities. But your name will be remembered for eternity. Your sacrifice celebrated.”

Rage surges through me, hot and immediate. “You want to use me to destroy the worlds, and you expect me to be grateful? To willingly die for your delusional crusade?”

“Not destruction. Restoration.” Her form flickers as my anger grows. “And you have no choice. The process has already begun. Can you feel it within you? The power building, seeking release?”

I can feel it. It is energy coiling inside me, pressing against my skin, demanding freedom.

“Resisting only makes it more dangerous,” she warns. “Accept your destiny. Embrace what you are becoming.”

“No,” I spit the word, gathering my will. “This is my body. My life. My power now. I won’t be your sacrifice.”

The Blood Queen’s expression shifts from confidence to uncertainty as I push back against her presence. The stone circle crumbles around us.

“This changes nothing,” she hisses as her form destabilises. “Delay if you must, but you cannot stop what is coming. The worlds will be one again.”

“Not through me,” I promise, focusing all my determination on rejecting her influence.

With a sound like shattering glass, the vision collapses. I find myself back in the corridor at MistHallow, on my knees, Dante and Luke crouched beside me, their faces tight with concern.

“Gaida?” Dante’s voice breaks through the ringing in my ears. “Can you hear me?”

I nod, my throat too dry for words.

“You collapsed,” Luke explains. “Your eyes were open but unseeing. We couldn’t reach you.”

“How long?” I ask.

“Less than a minute,” Dante says, though the worry in his eyes suggests it felt much longer to them.

I struggle to my feet, accepting their help. “I saw her. Spoke with her. The Blood Queen.”

Their expressions turn grim.

“She showed me everything. Why she created vampires, why the worlds were separated.” I steady myself against the wall. “She wants to use me to reunite all realities. She says I won’t survive the process.”

“That’s not going to happen,” Dante says immediately, his hand tightening on mine.

Luke’s expression remains troubled. “What else did she tell you?”

“That vampires were created to guard the veils between worlds after they were separated. The separation was meant to be temporary.” I take a deep breath.

“Do you believe her?” Luke asks carefully.

“No. She’s manipulating the truth to serve her purposes.” I look between them. “I could feel her certainty, but also her desperation. There’s something she’s not telling me.”

A group of students round the corner, their chatter dying as they see us. Their eyes linger on me, suspicious, fearful.

The lights in the corridor flare blindingly bright, then explode in a cascade of glass and sparks. The students scream, covering their heads. The floor beneath us trembles, a spiderweb of cracks racing outward from where I stand.

“Gaida,” Dante says urgently, grabbing my hand. “Focus on me. Just me.”

But the anger has tapped into something deeper. The power the Blood Queen showed me is now wildly out of control.

The students run, their fear feeding my anger, creating a destructive cycle I can’t break.

“I can’t stop it,” I gasp, feeling the power building beyond my ability to contain.

Luke steps forward, his hands glowing with magickal energy. “Forgive me,” he says, then slams his palm against my forehead.

Cold energy rushes through me, momentarily suppressing the power raging inside me. The cracks stop spreading, the warping of reality stills, though the damage remains, the corridor is still in ruins, exposed wiring sparking dangerously.

“What did you do?” I ask, as the world steadies around me.

“Temporary magickal suppression,” Luke says. “It won’t last long. We need to get you somewhere secure.”

“The chamber Felix is searching for,” Dante suggests. “If it was built to contain Blood Queen energy...”

Luke nods grimly. “Let’s hope he’s found something.”

As we hurry through the damaged corridor, I feel the Blood Queen’s consciousness stirring again, pushing against Luke’s suppression. Her voice whispers at the edges of my mind.

You cannot resist forever. The reunification comes, with or without your cooperation.

I ignore her, focusing on placing one foot before the other, on Dante’s hand steady in mine, on the hope that Felix has found answers.

But deep down, I fear she might be right. How long can I fight what’s inside me? How long before I lose control completely, with far worse consequences than a damaged corridor?

And most terrifying of all… what happens when Luke’s suppression wears off?