The library doors closed softly behind me, muffling the smell of ancient parchment and aged ink.
My steps through the mansion's wide corridors were light, but my mind was a gale. My family's history still rang in my blood, like an ancient whisper about to become a roar.
I sighed softly, a melody held back between my teeth, but I didn't have time to sink into further thoughts.
An elegant shadow appeared at my side.
"Miss d'Argêntea," Vael said in his low, grave voice, like distant thunder in a golden field. "Dinner is served."
I raised an eyebrow. "As always, punctual as a possessed clock."
He didn't answer, just looked at me with that enchanted stone face, a picture of glacial calm. The kind of man you'd be afraid to provoke, but at the same time you want to know the name of the color of his eyes.
The famous "silent alpha" type with an aura of: "I could destroy you or protect you with equal intensity."
I chuckled internally at the thought.
I followed in his footsteps, and together we walked through the hallways. The crystal lamps cast reflections on the marble floor, and everything seemed more solemn than usual.
As if the house were whispering an invisible preparation.
When we reached the Solar room, the double doors opened like theater curtains.
There they were: my father, sitting at the head of the table with his authoritative presence adorned in silence; my little sister eating a piece of fruit with the serenity of a fairy; and my brother with his eyes half closed, probably calculating something.
"Good night," I murmured, sitting in my usual place.
"Good night, sis," Clarisse said with a sweet smile. "I was reading, weren't I?"
I nodded. "A book about crimson roses and charming vampires."
My father looked up at me.
"The bloodline must be known. Then you know we must prepare."
There was a brief silence. Dorian cut a piece of meat with surgical precision, but his gaze fell on me, assessing.
"Prepare for what exactly?" I asked, still fiddling with the linen napkin. "A ball? Or another one of those gatherings where people just discuss who married whom for convenience?"
"Don't joke about it, Lígia," the Count said firmly. "I'm talking about the Awakening Ritual."
The air seemed to freeze. Even the holographic cat next to me, who was chewing on an invisible pixel, stopped.
"The Awakening Ritual seems... uncomfortable," I replied, with a cynical smile.
"It's the process by which we activate the family's vampiric bloodline. You're sixteen summers old. You're late, but acceptable. In three days, we'll begin the process."
The meat lost its taste. The room seemed to shrink. My heart beat three times faster than normal, but my face remained calm.
"What if I don't want to?"
"It's not a matter of wanting. It's a matter of destiny. You're a daughter of the Crimson bloodline. There's no escape."
Dorian cleared his throat, looking at me with a gleam that was half-distrust.
"Will it hurt?" I asked, staring at my father.
"Yes. But after that, you'll see the world with different eyes."
The table was silent for a while.
My little sister bit her lip, looking at us in confusion.
Vael, behind me, maintained his stoic posture.
Dinner proceeded calmly, disguising the true nuance behind the facade.
The system whispered in my ear.
"If you survive, your base stats will increase considerably. Not to mention that this may unlock the special training tab. Advantageous..."
I ignored him. The reality of something I didn't want to care about was eating away at my nerves.
After dinner, I was left alone in the hall. My shadow stretched out beneath the red stained glass windows.
I looked down at my hands. So human. So… fragile.
But in three days, perhaps they would hold enough power to crush the fate of their own lives.
Only the whispers of the night breeze passed through the lace curtains and kissed the furniture with cold, silent fingers.
After readjusting to reality, Lígia walked down the hallway back to her room, the only sound that accompanied her was the constant and irritating purring of the system, floating beside her in its holographic feline form. She sighed, her shoulders slumping under the weight of another day of discoveries, realities and expectations.
As she opened the bedroom door, she said softly to no one, only to the shadows:
"Let's leave the homework for tomorrow."
After getting into the bathtub, Ligia closed her eyes tiredly.
The bath was warm, enveloping. It washed away her thoughts like foam that dissolves in the drain.
After putting on a light nightgown, she lay down between the white sheets like clouds stuck to the earth.
But sleep... sleep was a promise that would not be fulfilled.
She turned to one side. Then to the other. She turned again...
Sighing, she opened her eyes to the dark night in silence.
His eyes were open and staring at the ceiling as if he could answer the spirit's concerns.
Finally, in a fit of frustration, he muttered, "Peste, are you there?"
The cat, nestled on the edge of the bed like a lazy spirit, slowly opened one shining eye.
"That's not my name, you idiot hostess."
Lígia didn't answer right away. She just snorted. It was pretentious, like everything about him.
"Can you tell me what the Awakening ritual is like?"
The system stopped licking its paw, tilted its head, and for a moment there was silence.
Then, with a pause that was different from its usual mocking tone, he answered.
"The Awakening Ritual is a pact sealed with Velmor, the God of Contracts. It was created by the eldest son of the House of Argent. Using a combination of his bloodline, soul magic, and mystical clauses, he created a tradition that ties the bloodline to the foundations of the family."
Lígia's eyes widened.
"Contract?"
The system continued lazily.
"Yes. By participating in the ritual, your body connects with the ancestral lineage, activating the inherited attributes: strength, longevity, heightened senses, control over shadows, blood and the vampiric instinct."
He paused momentarily and continued.
"But there is a price."
Lígia sat up a little in bed, her eyes shining in the darkness.
"So? What's the price?"
The system looked at her for three seconds, its eyes sharp as crystal razors.
"...I won't tell you any more."
She blinked. "What? Why not?"
The cat purred and turned to the side, ignoring her.
"Because it's more fun this way."
Lígia felt her blood boil.
"System...idiot."
"You say that, but I'm the only one who tells you the truth in this castle." he replied, his tail moving like a lazy serpent.
She was silent for a while. Her breathing was calm, but her thoughts ran like wild steeds.
"You said I can't break the family rules... what kind of rules are those?"
"Never betray the blood, never break an Argent oath, and never refuse the Clan's summons."
"And if I break it?" She asked curiously.
"The contract consumes your essence. The hostess's soul is split into fragments and absorbed by the ancestral line. You become a silent specter of your own memory, trapped forever."
Lígia swallowed hard. The threat was cruel, elegant and definitive, like every noble tradition.
"No one told me that in class this morning."
"Of course not. That part is a secret. Only those who truly awaken know."
"And you told me why?"
The system looked at her.
"Because even though you're an idiot, you still have to continue the story. And maybe, just maybe, you have the potential to redefine it."
She smiled sideways, a tired but sincere smile.
"You're a damn manipulative cat."
"I'm a system. I only adopted the cat form because I know humans like cuteness."
Lígia lay down again, her gaze on the ceiling.
"Will I be able to survive this?"
He came closer, lying on her chest like a warm, unreal weight.
"I don't know. But it'll be fun to watch you try."
She let out a soft laugh. Then she closed her eyes. Now the room seemed less cold. Less lonely. Even with a system purring over her.
"Good night, Peste."
"Good night, hostess. May the nightmares be educational."