PRECIOUS SAGA

"A crimson rose, bloomed in the garden of my heart, its thorns piercing deep, leaving a trail of blood and memories that time cannot erase."

- Roses and Blood

🅩🅔🅟🅗🅨🅡

"Good afternoon, ladies and gentlemen. This is your Captain speaking.

We are now preparing for our descent into Ninoy Aquino International Airport in Manila, Philippines. We expect to touch down in approximately 20 minutes. The current weather conditions in Manila are clear and sunny, with a light breeze. We're looking forward to a smooth landing.

During our descent, you may notice a slight change in cabin pressure. Please be sure to have your seatbelts fastened and all carry-on luggage securely stowed.

As we approach the gate, please remain seated until the fasten seatbelt sign is turned off and the flight attendants have instructed you to deplane. We appreciate your patience and cooperation. On behalf of the entire crew, thank you for flying with us. We hope you enjoyed your flight and look forward to welcoming you on boar again soon.

Enjoy your time in the Philippines!"

Philippines.

The very name, a chilling wind across a wound that refuses to close. It hurts so much… a deep, persistent ache that claws at my soul. That day… that year… the precise moment I lost her… it's etched onto my heart, an unforgiving brand. Unfair, they call it. A cruel joke whispered by a heartless world.

We are creatures of the shadows, ancient beings who've walked this earth for eons. Yet, we are denied the simplest of human experiences: true love, the warmth of family, a life brimming with joy. For us, love is a phantom limb, a bittersweet memory of a paradise forever lost, a cruel mockery of what could have been.

From the window, I watch the clouds drift, silent witnesses to my sorrow. Decades have passed, countless faces have blurred into the tapestry of my memory, languages learned, wars witnessed… yet the Philippines remains a constant, a mournful symphony playing relentlessly in my veins. It is the cradle of my greatest joy and my most devastating loss. It is where I found and lost my everything, my precious gem, the very air I breathed.

I tasted love, I knew love. It was a terrifyingly beautiful thing, a sweet agony that bloomed in the darkness of my existence. A new sensation, a new hope. But fate, that cruel mistress, snatched it away with a callous hand.

How can one win against destiny? How can one conquer a force that wields such merciless power? The battle was lost before it even began.

The pain… it's a constant companion, a shadow that never leaves my side. The Philippines… a name whispered on the wind, a constant reminder of a love that was, and a love that will never be again.

1875

"Nieves... This is the only— sniffle — the only way," I choked out, my voice thick with unshed tears.

She looked at me, her eyes wide and glistening. "But I— I want to— sob — to be with you, Zephyr! You promised!" Her words were broken, punctuated by shuddering breaths.

"You said it yourself— hiccup — from your own lips, Zephyr. That you'd never— never leave me, that you'd fight for me! Like it was yesterday, I heard you say those words, and now... sob ...now I don't even know if you— if you meant them," she gasped, her body wracked with sobs. Each word was a struggle, a desperate plea lost in the storm of her grief.

If only she knew… the agonizing truth behind my actions.

The sight of her pain was a physical wound, but my resolve remained unshaken. I would live with this agony, yes, but her safety was worth any sacrifice.

I opened my mouth to speak, but she cut me off, her voice raw and desperate, "Make me a vampire… please…" The words were a choked whisper, a plea born of desperation and a fierce will to survive.

My eyes flickered to her family, their happy chatter from the kitchen a stark contrast to the tragedy unfolding before me. A life she would forfeit if I granted her wish.

I looked back at Nieves, her face streaked with tears, her body shaking. "Nieves… I love you… I love you so… sniffle… so much…" My voice cracked, betraying the turmoil within.

"Then prove it!" she cried, her voice strained, "Make me one of you!" Her words were a desperate demand, a final plea born from a heart consumed by fear and love. The raw emotion in her voice, the sheer desperation, left me breathless.

I grasped her arms, my fingers tightening slightly, and met her gaze directly.

"Nieves," I began, my voice low and husky,

"My existence… it's a damnation. A curse. And I would never, ever inflict that on you." The unshed tears burned my eyes.

Only Nieves could unlock this torrent of emotion within me—a bittersweet symphony of joy and sorrow I never knew existed. A paradox born of love.

"If I turn you," I continued, my voice catching in my throat,

"I steal your life. I rob you of everything you could still experience, every dream you could still chase, your family… everything. Nieves, are you willing to sacrifice all of that… just to be with me?"

She didn't answer, only the racking sobs that shook her slender frame.

Pulling her close, I held her tightly, the scent of her hair a bittersweet comfort.

"I love you," I whispered, my voice thick with emotion,

"I love the vibrant, beating heart of you, the essence of your humanity. That's why I cherish you. I want you to live fully, completely. Even if it means… even if it means we can never be together." The words were a knife twisting in my gut.

I pulled back, my eyes searching hers.

"Your happiness, your life… it's worth more than any eternity we could share."

The unspoken truth hung heavy between us—a sacrifice born of love, a love that transcended even immortality.

I intertwine our hands and kiss her, closing my eyes and savoring the warmth of her palms, knowing this is the last time I'll feel it.

As I sob, I force myself to utter the words that feel like daggers in my heart, but I know there's no other way. It's the right thing to do.

I look deep into her eyes, searching for understanding.

"Forget me."

"Erase from your mind the memories of us together."

"The image of my face... and..."

I can't finish my thought; it feels as though something is lodged in my throat, choking back the words I desperately need to say.

She stares back at me, her expression a mask of stillness, but the tears continue to flow down her cheeks, a silent testament to her pain.

My decision is made, and though it hurts more than anything, it's necessary.

"Forget that you ever loved someone like me."

I release her hands and, as swiftly as the wind, move behind her while she gazes into the void.

I close my eyes, leaning closer to her ear, and whisper, "Wake up."

Then I vanish into the dark forest, hiding as I watch her. I see her jerk in surprise, turning her head this way and that, confusion etched on her face.

Tears stream down my cheeks again as I continue my journey through the dense woods, each step heavier than the last.

Goodbye...

Nieves...

"Sir, are you okay?"

I turned to the little girl sitting next to me. Her innocent concern was evident in her bright eyes. Her mother, a woman who looked to be in her late thirties or early forties, glanced at me before gently addressing her daughter.

"Ally, I told you not to bother other people, especially strangers," her mother said, her voice a soft reprimand.

The woman then turned back to me, offering a warm smile. "Sorry about that. My daughter just loves talking to people."

I smiled back. "It's quite alright." I looked at the child again, noticing her gaze lingering on my face.

Why? What was she seeing?

Then, she leaned in conspiratorially, whispering, "Your eyes are gray, Sir."

I sighed softly, pushing my sunglasses into place.

"Contact lenses," I murmured, extending my hand.

"Zephyr," I said, offering my name. "I'm 22." The lie felt smooth on my tongue, a practiced deception. The truth – 422 years old – felt like a lead weight in my chest.

Her small hand engulfed mine in a surprisingly firm grip.

"Hello, Sir Zephyr! I'm Allyson—" She paused, then held up six fingers with a triumphant grin. "—and I'm six years old!"

I smiled, letting the warmth of her unadulterated joy wash over me as the plane began its descent.

The landing was smooth, and I retrieved my carry-on bag from the overhead compartment. It was finally time to disembark. The air inside the airport felt thick, heavy with the scent of coffee and duty-free perfumes. I joined the flow of passengers, walking down the narrow aisle and into the jet bridge.

The airport buzzed with noise—the typical sounds of people, luggage carts rolling, and announcements echoing repeatedly.

Well, it's actually the familiar chaos of travel.

I made my way through the throngs of people toward immigration. The line was long, but the process moved quickly. I presented my passport and boarding pass, and within a few minutes, I was through.

I took a moment to observe my surroundings…

The area was packed with travelers, all patiently waiting for their luggage. I found a spot near the carousel, watching as bags slowly emerged, each one a small victory for the weary passengers.

When I spotted my suitcase on the carousel, I quickly grabbed it and made my way out of the airport.

I let out a sigh.

Weeks of travel had brought me back to this country, and it felt different now—bustling, alive. After more than a century… I was back.

And yes, more than a century.

I am an Emberkin—a type of vampire, a being who has lived peacefully among humans, blending in seamlessly. Though I am 422 years old, my youthful appearance is preserved by the timeless nature of my kind.

We're immortals...

Vampires...

Just don't call us Aswang; that sounds cheap.

Unlike the vampires of legend, I have long since lost the thirst for human blood. My kind turned away from those primal instincts long ago, choosing instead to coexist with humanity and use our unique abilities for good.

Well, except for those we call the Nightbringers.

They are vampires who still cling to the old ways of our race, our enemies—the ones the Sanctuary deems dangerous. The Nightbringers are described as true creatures of the night, actively hunting and feeding on humans, relentless in their thirst.

The basic difference between us is that we Emberkin are immune to sunlight; they are not. They remain strictly nocturnal, meaning they thrive in darkness and still possess that unquenchable thirst for human blood.

Speaking of the Sanctuary…

This journey—oh well, my journey—is part of the "Relocation Program" established by the Sanctuary. It's a covert support system for Emberkin vampires, run by powerful corporations with backing from various governments around the world.

I left my previous job at a prominent technology company in the United Kingdom, "The Sage Group plc." It's actually a multinational enterprise software company headquartered in Newcastle upon Tyne, England.

My transition into this new chapter is a leap into the unknown but necessary for the future of my kind.

And now, I find myself back in the Philippines, ready to embrace this new chapter as I adopt a new identity—one of a student named Zephyr Ramirez. Of course, along with this new identity comes a new role: to study at the prestigious University of Elysium.

Ramirez isn't actually my surname... I don't have one, to be honest. It's just a name I've chosen to use, but I want to keep my first name—Zephyr.

My carry-on bag contains more than just clothes and toiletries. It holds my "new" passport, birth certificate, and other legal documents, all meticulously crafted by a team of specialists involved in the Relocation Program. These documents aren't fake in the traditional sense; they're based on genuine identities that have long been forgotten, carefully researched and reconstructed to give me a semblance of normalcy.

As I step into this vibrant world of academia, I feel a mix of excitement and trepidation. The prospect of blending in, of navigating the complexities of student life, is both thrilling and daunting. After centuries of existence, I am ready to learn, to grow, and to forge a new path in this ever-evolving society.

This is my chance to explore a different kind of immortality—one that involves knowledge, connection, and perhaps even friendship. It's time to embrace the future while honoring the past.

.

.

.

.

.

"Hello there!" A strong, cheerful voice cuts through my thoughts.

A young man, barely out of his teens, stands before me, a wide, friendly smile illuminating his face. I am in the parking lot; the Sanctuary emailed me earlier, saying someone would pick me up, and I suspect this is him.

"You're Zephyr, right? I did a little background check on you, and it says this is your second time in the country, so I'm confident you can understand and speak Tagalog..." He extends his hand.

"I'm Thomas, and I'll be your guide and companion for as long as you're here!"

He is brimming with energy.

I smile back, taking in the details of his attire, his demeanor, and his features. His subtle traits reveal his true nature.

He's an Emberkin.

I shake his hand.

"Nice to meet you, Thomas. I'm ready to get settled."

I travel the world, take on various roles, and adopt different identities over the centuries. The Sanctuary is my lifeline, ensuring my safety and my ability to blend in. I am no longer a nomad but a carefully constructed citizen of the world, navigating the complexities of human bureaucracy with the help of a support system both intricate and discreet.

I consider the challenges that await me, returning after a century. It's vastly different now.

But here I am, back in this country, the land that holds both my deepest sorrow…

…and the memory of my beloved, Nieves.

.

.

.

.

.

AUGUST 19, 2024

MOON PHASE: FULL MOON

🌕

"Bachelor of Arts in History, huh? College of Humanities and Arts," Thomas smiles as he looks over the documents regarding my university enrollment and my status as an irregular fourth-year student.

Two days have passed since I arrived back in the Philippines, and it hasn't been too difficult to get along with Thomas. He's a very friendly guy—talkative, sure, but it's okay.

We're sitting in a popular bistro, just the two of us at our table, sipping our drinks. So far, things have been relatively chill since I arrived. I've spent most of my time in my condo, gazing out at the city lights and occasionally keeping an eye out for any Nightbringer activity. Thomas mentioned a string of murders that suggest the involvement of Nightbringers.

This year alone, 672 bodies have been discovered—all with two puncture wounds on their necks, drained of blood. Cold corpses, emptied of life. Eighteen people are also missing.

Reasons?

The investigation isn't complete yet.

The investigators under the Sanctuary are the ones handling the countless cases potentially linked to the Nightbringers.

Those who are missing may have been turned into creatures like them. A Nightbringer's choice is always the same: kill or make their victims into thralls.

How come some of them are still roaming in this country? Most of their kind are in first-world countries for a specific reason: power.

For dominance.

They crave influence over those in higher positions, seeking to establish a foothold in the world of humans. It's a dangerous game, and as the shadows deepen, it becomes increasingly clear that the balance between our kind and humanity hangs by a thread.

My thoughts were interrupted by Thomas.

"Man, your classmates are gonna be so screwed," he said, still looking over my documents. "You've been alive for, like, a million years. You probably already know 99.9% of the course material. History major, huh? You're gonna ace everything!"

I laughed.

"I'm not gonna show off, Thomas. I wanna blend in, you know? Plus, we gotta be careful. Nightbringers aren't the only things we gotta watch out for. Don't want to attract unwanted attention."

Thomas went quiet, looking thoughtful. He leaned in slightly, his brow furrowed.

"Lycans?" he asked softly.

I nodded.

He chuckled. "Nah, bro. Haven't seen one of those in centuries."

I shook my head. "Still," I said, taking a sip of my beer.

We continued our drinks and conversation, the casual banter a welcome distraction from the looming dangers.

I raised an eyebrow at Thomas as he nudged me mid-sip. The smirk on his face was practically glowing, and his eyes were doing that subtle "look over there" thing. Slowly, I turned. Two women were checking us out.

I offered a sheepish smile and raised my glass in a weak attempt at a toast. They returned the gesture, and I turned back to Thomas, who was now winking like a cartoon character.

Just as I took another sip, Thomas nearly sent me into orbit with his next question.

"So... you gonna go for it, or what?" he asked, a mischievous glint in his eye.

I understood perfectly. I flicked him on the forehead. "Nope. Been there, done that. And you know the rules, Thomas. Remember the whole 'don't attract unwanted attention' thing?"

He burst out laughing, slapping the table so hard the glasses jumped. "Zephyr, my friend, we're not just supposed to exist, we're supposed to thrive! These rules? They're like those 'helpful' maps from the 15th century. Completely useless!"

He paused, dramatically wiping a fake tear. "Besides, think of the story! 'Ancient vampire falls for modern-day bartender...'" He trailed off, lost in his own comedic world.

I rolled my eyes, but a small smile played on my lips. "You're incorrigible," I muttered, shaking my head. "Honestly, sometimes I think you're more human than I am."

He grinned. "Hey, I'm embracing my inner caveman. Except with better hygiene and a slightly more refined palate for beer." He winked again. "Though, those ladies... they do have a certain... je ne sais quoi."

He paused, then added in a stage whisper, "I bet they don't even know what je ne sais quoi means." Then he started laughing again.

I sighed, taking another sip of my beer. Dealing with Thomas was definitely a unique kind of challenge. But hey, at least life wasn't boring.

"We need to find our own way, to embrace the unknown, and to grow beyond what our ancestors thought impossible," Thomas declared, sounding like he'd just read that from a very inspiring, yet slightly dusty, self-help book for vampires.

He paused, that twinkle in his eye suggesting impending mischief.

"Speaking of impossible..." he leaned in conspiratorially, lowering his voice to a dramatic whisper. "...two guys can totally have sex nowad—"

"Thomas!" I cut him off before he could unleash whatever ridiculousness was brewing in his brain. Not because I was prudish, but because, seriously, his voice projection skills were legendary. The entire bar would hear, and the reactions from the mostly elderly patrons would be... pricelessly awkward. And potentially involve a lot of sputtering and dropped dentures.

I might be centuries old, but I still appreciated a quiet drink. I didn't need a full-blown vampire-meets-traditional-Filipino-values showdown.

I sighed dramatically, placing my beer down with a theatrical thud.

"Look, Thomas, maybe bending the rules is all the rage in the human world. But we're vampires, not rebellious teenagers. There are certain... social norms... we should probably adhere to. These rules aren't just for our safety, they're for the sake of humanity's sanity!"

I paused, letting the gravity of my statement sink in. Or at least, I tried to. Thomas was already stifling a giggle.

"It's just a fling, no emotions involved!" Thomas insisted, making a ridiculously dramatic cross-to-heart gesture. "Purely recreational! If anything develops, the blood moon will be long gone before I even think about it. Ghosting is my specialty!"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine, go have your fun. I'll stay here and nurse my drink. Try to blame me for anything, and you'll see what happens." I leveled him with a look that could curdle milk.

"Suit yourself," he said, already halfway out of his seat. His speed was... impressive.

I watched him go, shaking my head. What a whirlwind.

My gaze drifted to the sliver of moon visible through the bar's glass wall. It was almost full. A full moon. And Thomas was off to cause some sort of chaotic, probably hilarious, mayhem.

I sighed...