Vampire Progenitor System

Three years had passed since the standoff in the starfire realm.

The sealed universe had found its peace, the realms mending the wounds of battle and sealing the borders with even more caution than before. Old alliances were kept, if for no reason than the uncertainty of consequences should they be severed. The Vampire Realm remained one of the safest places, the twin moons watching over the black cities and their hanging districts that had been rebuilt stronger than before. Lucian and the Origin Clan kept order, Damaris holding the same quiet power he had before his return. The life went on, as it always did.

But something was wrong.

It started with absences.

First, there was Elara. The Witch Progenitor did not appear for the Convocation, though few seemed to take any notice. It was not uncommon for her to retreat into self-imposed isolation when the blood visions became too much for her to bear. Several messages were sent to her, wards checked, and when no word came from the witch territories, it was only then, when the second summons failed and Elara’s chambers had been found empty, the first hints of true concern beginning to stir.

It was only a week later when Kaelthos, the great Dragon Progenitor, failed to answer his own Convocation. The fires in his volcanic palace had gone dark, the lesser dragons reporting that his territory had been quiet since the night before. Then the howls of Fenrir were silent from the werewolf realms, the nine tails of Inari’s kitsune form no longer flicking lazily from the spirit courts. Nyxara’s wandering began to be missed, Michael’s golden presence a gap in the outer defenses. One by one, the names began to fall away, and within two months every single Progenitor that had held a seat at the last Convocation was unaccounted for.

There were no bodies.

No signs of battle, no lingering aftereffects of the magic that might have bound their souls to the seats of power. There was only absence.

It was in the Vampire Realm’s capital that Lucian stood with Zane, Anita, and Heron, the twin moons casting red light over the city below. Patrols moved as they always did, the usual hum of power filling the streets, but there was a tension in the air, a weight in the silence.

”I wish it was something simple, but it isn’t,” Zane muttered, his hands shoved in his coat pockets as he watched the moons. ”The seats themselves seem... empty somehow. Like something has taken whatever was there in the first place.”

Anita’s ribbons of living blood floated in loose rings around her. ”Elara’s blood visions were about a new age of Progenitors, yes? We all heard the tales, but no one seemed to think much of it.”

Heron said nothing as he stared out over the capital, the Draugr’s gaze piercing the dark horizon.

Lucian’s shadows curled around the balcony edge. ”Damaris has been asking around, asking the other realms. They all answer the same – silence where the seats should be, empty lands, no signs of struggle or deaths.”

A shadow guard approached from the dark, bowing as he offered a scroll to Lucian. The vampire lord took it and read through the message quickly, exhaling slowly after he finished.

”New Earth has confirmed Dera’s presence – she is the only other one that can be reached at the moment.”

The silence that followed was thick enough to cut.

Back on New Earth, Dera stood in the courtyard where she had trained as a girl, the Human Authority flowing around her in steady pulses. She had sent messages across every channel known to her, the answers all the same. The Progenitors were simply gone.

After finishing her training exercises, she stared at her hands.

”Age of the new progenitors...” she whispered. Elara’s words had been far from unknown to her – they had seemed, at the time, like another warning.

Across the realms the same thoughts were being processed in the minds of rulers and leaders, their words carefully measured.

In the Demon Realm, the power held by lesser demon lords was being tested, with few showing true loyalty to the throne. The children that had played together in the Spirit Realm asked their parents where the lights had gone. The packs of the werewolf realms were growing restless, their usual discipline loosening with the loss of a true leader. In every corner of the universe, the same realization was slowly taking root – the powers that had held the realms together for centuries were gone, and in their absence, nothing had yet taken their place.

In a far corner of the world and a hidden chamber beneath a forgotten wing, Elara’s only remaining personal scrying mirror pulsed once, no one there to see it. Within its depths the last vision she had seen before her slumber had begun to replay itself, the great shapes rising up where the seats of power had once been.

The age of new progenitors is coming.

For the first time in centuries, the mirror faded to black.

The night stretched on over the Vampire Realm, Lucian standing on the balcony long after the others had left to enact what little he had planned. Heron was the only one who remained at his side, the Draugr’s gaze fixed on the horizon.

”They’re not dead,” Lucian stated at last. ”We would have known had they died, or been killed in any way.”

Heron’s expression was unreadable as he turned his head to look at the moons. ”Perhaps something else took their place.”

Lucian said nothing as he stared into the dark, the weight of the night pressing heavily on his shoulders. Somewhere, far beyond the sight of the moons, the shapes of the long-gone Progenitors continued to stretch and shift.

A/N

Thanks for reading this far, it has been a glorious ride, I love all your supports and contributions, and I will continue to do my best to keep you all entertained despite my tight and busy schedules. It has not been easy for me and my mental health.

And one day I hope this novel would be the talk of the ages.