Ambra pushed open the door of the cozy bakery, greeted by the comforting aroma of fresh bread and pastries. The ovens had been turned off and the counters were mostly clear, save for a few leftover loaves. Grant's mother, the cheerful, large lady with a penchant for laughter, was busy closing down the store.

"Good evening," Ambra greeted her with a warm smile. "Have Grant, Emil, and Laura returned yet?"

The lady let out a hearty laugh, her whole body shaking with the humor of the notion. "Oh, darling, they won't be back for hours! At this time, they're likely at the guild, lifting mugs rather than swords!"

"Ah, I see," Ambra chuckled. "Thank you for letting me know. I think I'll turn in for the night then."

"Sleep well, dear," the lady said, giving her a wink as she ascended the staircase to the second floor.

Ambra entered the guest room, quickly taking off her cloak, where the quietude instantly enveloped her. She was alone with her thoughts as she sat down on the bed, its mattress still softer than any she had known during her years of travel. Her mind began to wander back to the meeting with Lady Camila earlier in the day.

She had gone in with a sense of trepidation, influenced perhaps by Laura's less-than-enthusiastic impression of the royal girl. But the conversation had surprisingly been pleasant—cordial, even. Lady Camila was not the austere character Laura had described; she was far more nuanced than that. Kind of fun even?

Ambra lay on her back, staring at the wooden ceiling. The quilt felt heavy on her, but not nearly as weighty as her thoughts. Tomorrow, she would continue serving as Lady Camila's security detail, at least this time with some back up, a somewhat ironic situation given that her own mourning ceremony would be just days away.

"What am I doing?" she murmured to herself. Her thoughts darted to her new life, a life veiled in the shadows. A life that was both a blessing and a curse.

Reaching up, her fingers touched a strand of her silver hair. It glowed subtly in the moonlight that seeped through the curtains. Once just a regular black that she had come to cherish and care for, now a telltale sign of her vampiric nature. Could she even call it 'her' nature? Ambra didn't know.

The room felt colder, or maybe it was just her. Being a vampire had its constraints. She couldn't walk around the cities freely, couldn't look at her friends the same way, couldn't live a life unburdened by the thirst that now gripped her.

"Ambra the hero will soon be dead," she sighed, feeling a hollow space within her expand. A mourning ceremony for her human self—how surreal, how strangely melancholic. People would cry, reminisce, and perhaps even celebrate the life she had led. And she would be there, hidden behind a veil of anonymity, listening to praises and lamentations about a version of herself that no longer existed.

And how should she feel about that? Was she even allowed to feel anything about that in the traditional sense, being what she now was?

She did not know.

The door creaked open, and Lune stepped into the room, her face brightening when she spotted Ambra.

"Hey, you're already here," Lune said, closing the door behind her with a soft click. Her eyes scanned Ambra's face, picking up on the lingering heaviness. "How was your day?"

Ambra looked up, a small smile forming on her lips. "Eventful, but good, all things considered. How about you?"

Lune chuckled as she began removing her armor, setting it neatly to the side. "You wouldn't believe it, but I've been drafted to give a speech for you—at your mourning ceremony."

"A speech?" Ambra felt a twinge of discomfort at the mention of the ceremony, but she tried not to let it show. "Now, that's something I would've liked to hear."

"Isn't it absurd?" Lune laughed, but her eyes met Ambra's, and for a moment, they both understood the absurdity of such a situation that neither could properly articulate.

Switching gears, Ambra filled Lune in on her day. "I've been guarding Lady Camila. She's actually not that bad, pretty fun to be around, to be honest."

"Really?" Lune seemed pleasantly surprised as she put away her staff. "That's good to hear. I was worried you'd have a tough time with her."

Lune moved toward the small table where a single candle flickered, casting shadows on the walls. "Do you mind if I put the candle out?"

Ambra nodded, the weight of the day catching up with her. "Go ahead."

Lune extinguished the flame, plunging the room into darkness. Both girls climbed into the bed, the silence thickening around them.

For some reason, Ambra felt a sliver of unease, as if sleep wouldn't come easy tonight. She glanced over to where she knew Lune lay, her form visible in the dim light that trickled in from the window.

"Goodnight, Lune," she said softly.

"Goodnight, Ambra," Lune replied, her voice tinged with a warmth that filled the room.

In the darkness, Ambra could sense Lune's restlessness, even though neither of them spoke. The atmosphere was quiet, but it was as if there was an undercurrent of unsaid words, a subtle tension that held them both captive in their own thoughts.

Just as Ambra was beginning to drift into the fringes of sleep, she felt the bed shift. Lune rolled over to face her, and even in the dim light, Ambra could see an indescribable glimmer of emotion in Lune's eyes—a joy tinged with something deeper, something complex.

"Are you still... Ambra?" Lune's voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but the question seemed to reverberate in the silent room, carrying the weight of a thousand unspoken words.

For a moment, Ambra found herself grappling with the question. It was like a key turning in a lock, opening a door to a myriad of feelings she hadn't fully examined. But after what felt like an eternity condensed into a few seconds, she nodded, smiling warmly.

"Yes, I am still me, Lune—still Ambra. I may no longer be human, but I am still myself."

Hearing this, Lune's eyes seemed to sparkle as if filled with stardust. She moved closer, wrapping her arms around Ambra in an embrace that felt like a homecoming.

The hug was a language in itself, a silent but powerful affirmation of their friendship. It held a warmth Ambra hadn't felt in a long while—the kind of warmth that doesn't just heat the skin but soaks into the bones, reaching the hidden corners of the heart. It felt like sunlight breaking through clouds, like the first drops of rain on parched earth.

Since reuniting, Lune had maintained a cautious distance. She had still been a friend, yes, but a friend behind an invisible wall. The spontaneity, the intimacy that had once marked their friendship had been missing, replaced by a formality that neither of them wanted but couldn't seem to escape. And that had left Ambra with a lingering, unspoken worry—would they ever recover the closeness they'd had before? Would that wall ever come down?

But in that embrace, the wall seemed to at least partially crumble. Ambra felt her fears, her worries, begin to melt away in the heat of Lune's hold. It was as if, for those few seconds, they were back in time—a time when things were simpler, when their friendship was uncomplicated by the weight of destinies and transformations. Before their mistakes, before their fights, before their quest together.

Finally, they pulled away, each looking at the other as if seeing them clearly for the first time in a long while. No more words were needed; their eyes said it all. Both lay back down, a new serenity settling over them.

As Ambra closed her eyes, she felt lighter, as if a burden had been lifted. In her heart, she held the warmth of that hug.

As Ambra closed her eyes and felt herself drift off, she sensed her consciousness sink into a familiar abyss. The sensation was akin to being submerged in water—a boundless, impenetrable darkness that swallowed her whole. Time lost meaning, and for a few moments, she was adrift, her thoughts fragmenting into ripples that dissipated in the dark expanse.

Then, just as abruptly, she felt her awareness sharpen. A strange clarity cut through the darkness, and she found herself standing in a field—an open expanse of nothingness that felt both infinite and oppressively enclosed. Above her, the sky bled. It wasn't just red; it was an agonizing, scalding crimson, a red so deep and tortured it felt like it could consume the world. It seemed as though the sky had been flayed, its wounds openly weeping, a nightmarish panorama that brought to mind the twisted, dolorous plains of hell. The atmosphere was stifling, choked with a disquiet that seemed to crawl under her skin.

Before her stood two graves. One had a tombstone whose name had been erased, as if wiped away by the hand of fate. The other grave was open, a dark chasm in the earth that beckoned ominously. The tombstone bore her name: Ambra. The letters looked as if they were etched with intention, awaiting her final rest.

And there, standing beside the open grave, was Lilith—the Vampire Queen. Her silver hair flowed like liquid moonlight, billowing in a wind Ambra couldn't feel. Her eyes were a burning crimson that seemed to rival the sky itself in their eerie luminosity. She looked at Ambra and smiled, a smile that was both beautiful and profoundly disturbing. The very air seemed to tremble around her.

An immense, almost paralyzing, sense of unease washed over Ambra as Lilith reached out to place her hand gently on the tombstone that bore her name. That simple touch seemed to resonate with an incomprehensible sentiment, as Lilith's eyes softened looking directly into Ambra's.

Just when Ambra felt that the weight of the atmosphere would crush her, she woke up. Her eyes snapped open, her body drenched in a cold sweat. The room was dark, save for the soft, comforting glow of the moonlight peeking through the window.

For a moment, she had to remind herself that she was safe, she wasn't quite sure of what she had even seen. Yet, the disquiet lingered, like a dark cloud in the recesses of her mind. With trembling hands, she wiped away the beads of sweat that had formed on her forehead and took deep breaths, trying to steady her racing heart. The image of Lilith's smile and the feel of that dark, bleeding sky stayed with her, filling her with an inexplicable sense of dread that she couldn't shake off.

She looked over at Lune, who was sleeping peacefully beside her. For a moment, the memory of Lune's embrace—a moment of warmth and connection—flashed in her mind, and Ambra clung to it like a lifeline, a brief but potent comfort against the haunting vision that she knew would not easily be forgotten.

Ambra woke to the morning light filtering through the curtains, its soft rays caressing her face but failing to bring her the comfort it usually would. She still felt the invisible weight of her unsettling dream, like a shadow trailing her waking moments. Though her eyes were open, she felt far from rested, as if the night had leeched away more than it had given.

Lune was already up, her energy palpable as she moved around the room with enthusiasm, gathering her armor and staff. "Morning, Ambra. I decided to accompany you to the Duke's estate today," Lune cheerfully said, shooting her a quick smile that was as bright as the daylight outside.

Before Ambra could respond, there was a gentle knock on the door. Grant's mother's voice floated in, warm and inviting as always. "Good morning dears. Breakfast is ready downstairs for Lune, and we've prepared a sweet-smelling tea for Ambra. Do come down when you're ready."

Ambra glanced at Lune, who was clearly excited at the prospect of breakfast, but also at the idea of starting another bustling day. Ambra's nostrils flared subtly as she anticipated the aroma of human confections she could no longer partake in, but the scent of which could still stir her senses delightfully.

For a fleeting second, she wondered if she should confide in Lune about the haunting dream she had—about the bleeding sky, the empty graves, and the insidious presence of Lilith. But almost as soon as the thought crossed her mind, she pushed it away. She remembered how her previous obsession with vanquishing Lilith had separated them. Lune had left her, distancing herself to avoid getting sucked into Ambra's vengeful mission.

"No," she thought, shaking her head as if trying to dislodge the lingering tendrils of her nightmare. "I won't bring Lune into this. Not again."

With a deep breath, she rose from the bed, pulling on her attire for the day. Lune turned to give her an encouraging smile, and for a moment, the room seemed to fill with a warmth that pushed back against the dark chill of her dream.

"Shall we go?" Lune asked, gesturing towards the door.

"Yes, let's," Ambra answered, her voice steadier than she felt inside.

They left the room together, walking down the stairs that led to the bakery. As they descended, Ambra felt the aroma of freshly baked bread and sweet pastries wafting up to meet them. It was a smell that spoke of simple, human joys—a life she could no longer have but could still appreciate from the fringes.

As they stepped into the bakery, greeted by the inviting smells and the warm smile of Grant's mother, Ambra tried her best to push away the lingering darkness of her dream.

Yet, somewhere in the back of her mind, the haunting image of Lilith and the nightmarish landscape remained.

------

Hey!

Very late chapter today, had a lot of work for the end of the week.

Anyway, this was the last primarily emotional chapter of this section, we go back to light-hearted or plot stuff now since the last few chapters were kinda heavy with a lot of darker implications. Besides I feel like there's still a lot of ground to cover in terms of regaining each other's trust in regards to Ambra and Lune, so don't expect them to be fully trusting of each other or have no issues moving forward just yet, this was really just the first step.

Also! Tomorrow will likely be double update day. Or worst case scenario, the day after that.

Thank you very much for reading and see you tomorrow!

-Fia