Chapter 41: The Forbidden Hour
{IRIS}
I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with myself now that I had arrived so early at the academy.
The unfamiliarity of this place left me unsettled, my anxiety rising like dark water around my ankles. I found myself missing Lord Val’s quiet assurance, and even Sebastian’s harsh lessons.
To drown the feeling, I completed the training Sebastian had carved into my routine—stances, footwork, the sting of a new bruise—then wandered the vast grounds with no real destination.
The Covens of Midnight was vast.
Far larger than any estate, village, or territory I had ever known—so sprawling it felt more like a city carved out of moonlight and void than a school.
Had it not been for the enchanted maps whispering directions whenever I passed them, I would have been hopelessly lost.
The place reminded me of an enchanted labyrinth, each path folding into another, each courtyard a doorway to something stranger.
Students wandered the grounds, though the semester had not yet begun. Some clearly belonged here—they moved with the confidence in familiar territory. Others were like me, early arrivals trying to orient themselves.
And they weren’t all vampires.
I passed a group of witches stirring glowing ink that crawled across the air like living script. A pair of fae students practiced illusions by the reflecting pools—turning their bodies into shimmering mirages.
A hellhound boy lounged beneath a tree, steam rising from his skin as fireflies gathered around him, drawn to his heat.
Further down the walkway, a group of revenants floated books to themselves using thin threads of soul-light, their eyes dim but focused.
Everything was strange. Everything was wondrous. And everything felt like it could eat me.
I tried not to stare, but... goddess, there was so much to stare at.
Eventually, my wandering brought me to the one place where the world seemed to quiet itself:
The Library of Endless Hours.
The tower rose high above the academy, its windows aglow with a soft blue luminance, as though it held its own moon inside.
When I stepped in, the doors swallowed the sound of my footsteps, and silence enveloped me like velvet.
The library was enormous—spiraling shelves climbing so high they vanished into shadow. Ladders drifted through the air on their own accord, ferrying books to students who raised a hand in request.
Tomes whispered among themselves, pages fluttering even when untouched. And far above, glowing orbs circled the tower like patient guardians.
I slipped into a quiet corner, drawn by instinct, and picked up a thick volume bound in dark leather. I didn’t know why my hands reached for vampire lore again—perhaps because, despite everything, I still knew so little about them.
Maybe... I wanted to understand him better.
The book opened with a whisper.
✦ Noble Vampires & Their Legacies ✦
Every noble house carries within its veins a single drop of blood from the First Vampire.
When he perished, the impact of his death rippled through the world. His soul did not pass on—it fractured. Splintered. Shattered into countless fragments.
Each fragment became a Legacy, passed down through the noble bloodlines.
I leaned closer, drinking in every word.
Each Legacy grants:
— an ancient, unique ability tied to the First Vampire’s soul
— mastery over a specific domain (shadow, blood, frost, moon, storm, flame, mind, void, echo...)
— immunity to certain curses, weaknesses, or arcane limitations
— senses far beyond even elder vampires
It explained so much. Why noble vampires were revered. Why they were feared.
Why Val was... the way he was.
My eyes skimmed further.
Noble-blooded vampires are said to be closer to gods than monsters.
Of course they were stronger than ordinary vampires.
Of course they moved with unnatural grace, spoke with authority, held themselves above others. It was in their very blood.
But then I stumbled across a passage I hadn’t expected.
A legend.
A forgotten history.
A name scorched into the pages as though burned there.
"And then there was the Ancient One..."
I swallowed, leaning in instinctively.
The text was aged, brittle around the edges.
"An ancient vampire who walked before the noble lines were formed... A creature who devoured Legacies rather than inheriting them.
A being whose hunger eclipsed kings.
Feared by noble houses, hunted by their forefathers..."
The ink faded there, but a chill crept down my spine.
Is this true?
No. It couldn’t be.
I slid the book back into its place and reached for another. One spine in particular caught my attention—an old volume detailing the many beings that walked this world.
Unfortunately, it rested far above my reach.
I stood on tiptoe, fingers stretching helplessly toward it, when I remembered—too late—that the floating ladders would have responded had I simply willed them.
Before I could correct myself, a hand moved past mine, long fingers closing effortlessly around the book.
"Is this the one you wanted?"
The voice was deep, lazy—almost bored—but strangely captivating.
I turned—and nearly stumbled back.
A face leaned into my view, close enough for me to see every delicate detail. He was tall and lean with an ethereal beauty that bordered on unreal.
His light blue hair bordering to white fell in soft waves to his shoulders, and his pale skin almost glowed under the library’s cold lights. But it was his eyes—light yellow-green, luminous like fading starlight—that made the breath catch in my throat.
He looked like a ghost carved into flesh.
"Y-yes... thank you," I managed.
He handed me the book—and my arms buckled under its unexpected weight.
"Careful," he murmured, catching my wrists before I could fall forward.
His hands were cold, but not unpleasantly so. Cold in a way that hinted at something inhuman—elegant, slender fingers with a surprising strength beneath them.
"T-thank you," I breathed again, flustered.
"I’ll carry it," he said simply, taking the heavy tome as though it weighed nothing. "Where are you sitting?"
I pointed to the table I had claimed earlier, and he walked ahead with fluid grace. I followed quickly, trying not to stare too much at the way he moved—like a drifting shadow.
"Are you new here?" he asked suddenly.
I nodded. "Yes."
He hummed softly, expression unreadable. "I thought so."
He paused by the window, gaze drifting outward. His profile was calm—too calm.
"That explains why you’re still here at this hour," he added.
My brows furrowed. "What do you mean?"
Instead of answering, he simply nodded toward the window.
"It’s already dark."
