Milan, Italy — Midnight.The city no longer sleeps.It whispers. It bleeds.
My boots echoed down the old sewer line beneath Via della Spina — once ruled by my father without a crown. No throne, no scepter — just fear, and a name that made men tremble.
The Crimson Den was behind me. So was Lucien. But his scent still lingered. Thick. Familiar.He gave me the map. That meant something.I didn't have the time — or the heart — to figure out what.
In my coat pocket, a silver dagger hummed.It pulsed with something ancient.A memory. A warning. A curse.
I reached the final door.
A rusted sigil of House El'Raez stood on the stone arch — buried under time, dust, and blood.I placed my palm over it and whispered the words my mother once taught me, hours before the fire took her.
"Per apertura di sangue… ridammi ciò che è stato rubato."(By the opening of blood… return what was stolen.)
The stone groaned.
The door opened.
The chamber beyond was lit by firelight — no wires, no electricity. Just flame and silence.And at the center… it waited. The Blood Mirror. A relic my father vowed to destroy. But he didn't. He hid it.
Because truth… was more dangerous than death.
I sliced my palm. The blood hit the glass.The mirror came alive.
And then —He appeared.
My father.
Raezmir El'Raez — burned, broken, seated on a throne of thorns. His eyes… hollow, yet aware.
"Fathya…" "They didn't kill me for my sins." "They killed me because I knew the truth."
My voice barely escaped my throat.
"What truth?"
"Maeryss is not what she seems. She is not human."
The mirror flickered.
"Her soul belongs to something far older... Syedrath. A god that bleeds shadows.""And you... you're the key to that gate."
His voice cracked —The mirror shattered.
I dropped to my knees.Blood dripped from my hand.But now… my mind bled too.
Flashback — Years ago, Brera
Mother's breath was shallow.Her fingers moved slowly over worn parchment.
"Fathya... if I don't survive — read this. Only when you see betrayal in the eyes of someone you once loved."
"Mama?" I reached for her hand.
"Blood may be sacred... but it's also easily betrayed."
She kissed my forehead.
I never saw her again.
Present Day
I left the chamber with fire in my lungs and blood on my skin.Maeryss had lied. To all of us.But this wasn't about lies anymore.
She was no longer human.
She was a vessel. A puppet of something darker.And I — La Reyna —I wasn't here to just stop her.
I would burn everything she built to the ground.
Train to Lyon — French Border
I boarded under a false name.My cloak damp.The bracelet on my wrist — sealed in a Shadow Pact — throbbed like it was alive.
At 2:00 a.m., the train jolted. Halted.
I felt it.
Assassins.
Three of them.Hoods. Silent. One carried chains etched with blood curses. Another wielded obsidian blades. The third — his eyes glowed crimson.
They didn't speak.
Neither did I.
Just one spell.One flick of the wrist.
Blood painted the cabin walls.
The last one, dying, hissed:
"Maeryss said… if you reach Lyon, everything ends."
I met his gaze.
"Then I'm exactly on time."
I stepped off the train before sunrise.And the fire inside me burned brighter than ever.