Inside the hidden sanctum, Veyra was already undergoing the trial. The chamber glowed red and black. Shadows danced. Phantoms of the past rose—old vampires, nobles of the Duskroot line, watching her, judging her.
Her body trembled. Her blood boiled. The Bloodroot of the Crimson Bloom responded with fierce abandon, merging, reshaping.
A voice echoed in her mind:
"You are no longer bound to flesh. Accept the hunger. Accept the dusk. Accept your rebirth."
Veyra screamed.
And then… silence.
Her heart stopped.
And started again.
Stronger.
When the light faded, Veyra stood transformed. Her skin paler, her eyes deeper red, and a black sigil burned faintly on her collarbone—the crest of the Duskroot legacy.
She was no longer human.
She had become a Vampire Noble, heir to one of the most ancient and powerful bloodlines in existence.
