The Awakening of the Vampire Princess

"Katheren, Katheren!" Grayson gently tapped Katheren's face, but the girl showed no response. Beside them, Elyra watched with concern, whispering, "She's not going to die, is she?"

"Don't talk nonsense!" Grayson helped Katheren to sit up and directed Elyra to support her. He then placed his hands on Katheren's face, his eyes emitting a green glow.

The light transferred from Grayson's eyes into Katheren's, tinting her black pupils with a sheen of emerald. Her body convulsed violently, and Elyra struggled to hold her steady.

As the green light faded, Katheren collapsed into Grayson's embrace. He caressed her cheek and called her name softly, but she lay motionless in his arms.

"Be strong, Katheren, you can't die!" Grayson clutched her tighter, shaking his head in despair. "I refuse to believe this is our fate. Fate brought us together; it can't mean for us to part like this!"

"You can't die, dummy, I won't call you dummy anymore!" Elyra, tears brimming, rocked Katheren's arm as she sobbed.

Moments later, a hand weakly grasped Grayson's. Stirring in his arms, Katheren slowly lifted her head and uttered with faint resolve, "I've never given up because you told me to be strong, and I won't give up now..."

"I knew you wouldn't! You are the toughest girl!" Overjoyed, Grayson kissed her forehead as Elyra, wiping away tears, exclaimed, "I knew dummy wouldn't die!"

"Weren't you just saying you wouldn't call Katheren 'dummy' anymore?" Grayson raised an eyebrow at the little girl, who looked sheepishly at a loss for words.

"It's okay, dear, call me whatever you like," Katheren cooed, pulling Elyra into a hug and wiping away her tears.

After resting momentarily, the trio proceeded toward the castle's exit, passing remnants of liches turned to dust by their king's demise.

As they reached the staircase, Grayson paused, his gaze drawn to the entrance where a statuesque woman stood with blood-red eyes fixed on them. Draped in an elegant red gown, her silver hair perfect, she wore blood-drop jewelry, exuding noble charm, yet her complexion was as pale as frost.

"Princess Elsbeth, what an honor it is to meet you," Grayson addressed the woman at the entrance with a measured tone.

"The demon hunter surprises me," Elsbeth replied with a melodious voice.

"I am equally astonished. Never in my wildest dreams did I expect to encounter the Ghost King's daughter on this forsaken island," Grayson said, shaking his head meaningfully.

"But surely you suspected who the spirit that followed you was," Elsbeth stared intently at Grayson.

"Indeed, the sight of this castle planted the seed of suspicion that we might be dealing with someone of high vampiric lineage," Grayson replied with a cryptic smile.

"Nevertheless, your situation remains unchanged. No one enters or leaves this castle without my permission," Elsbeth declared, her eyes ablaze with resolve and a hint of murderous intent.

"You're powerless to stop me. The stale blood from the carafe on your dresser will only harm your health. I dare say you're not even half as capable as your cousin, Count Norman, at the moment," Grayson said with a cold chuckle.

"Norman... you've encountered him..." Elsbeth's brows furrowed as she fixed her gaze on Grayson.

"Yes, and he's eternally bound to your father in hell," Grayson taunted with a smile.

Elsbeth's eyes flared with rage, revealing sharp fangs and blood-red talons, as she let out a fearsome roar.

"Perhaps you too should join them," Grayson said icily, drawing a silver pistol from Katheren's side lightning-fast and firing at Elsbeth.

The bullet whistled toward the entrance, hitting the carpet as Elsbeth's figure vanished into a mist of blood. Grayson scanned the shadows, but she reappeared before him, knocking the pistol from his hand.

The gun hit Katheren's head, already weakened, sending her tumbling to the ground, blood streaming from a gash in her forehead.

Dodging Elsbeth's claws, Grayson's own clawed hand gleamed as he slashed her shoulder. She recoiled with a wail, turning to mist and vanishing once more.

"An attack with silver, and she still escaped!" Grayson said, shocked, helping Katheren to her feet.

Katheren's head bled profusely from the blow. Grayson supported her against the wall, tearing a strip from his cloak to bandage her wound.

Leaving Katheren, he strode toward the entrance, searching for Elsbeth.

Suddenly, Elsbeth reappeared beside Katheren. Enticed by the blood, she knelt, licking her lips and touching the wound. The blood invigorated her, her red eyes gleaming with excitement as her fangs descended toward Katheren's tender neck.

But a gunshot rang out, and a silver streak pierced Elsbeth's chest. She spun, the bullet hitting her side, paralyzing her left body as she screamed and fled into the blood mist.

"I thought you'd have her under control," Grayson commented, looking up at the owl perched on the railing.

"It wasn't my fault. If she broke free from my binding light, she must be more powerful than me," the little owl replied innocently.

"You're right; a typical vampire would be dead after being wounded by my claw. She, however, survived a second silver bullet," Grayson mused. Elsbeth was the first vampire he'd encountered who could sustain such injuries and still flee.

He tended to Katheren's wound again. Unaware of how close to death she had come, she remained trapped in her pain and dizziness.

"Let's go. The princess won't show herself again unless she wants an early reunion with her father," Grayson said, lifting Katheren and signaling to Elyra.

The little owl transformed them both and flew them across the chasm as green fireballs rained down, reducing the castle to rubble.

Elsbeth emerged among the debris, clutching her wound and vowing revenge as she watched them flee: "This isn't over. One day, I'll find you, and you'll pay for this."

...

With Katheren in his arms, Grayson finally emerged from the cave they had entered, crossing the twisted jungle path to the beach where they had parted with the ghost pirate captain, Jaxton.

"They don't seem to be here," Grayson observed the endless sea, worried.

Then, a robust laugh erupted behind him. A bearded figure in a captain's garb approached.

"Ha! You're alive! I thought you were goners," Jaxton bellowed, "You landlubbers are tougher than I thought. I can't help but want to embrace you!"

"Thank you, Captain, but I must decline," Grayson replied, glancing at Katheren.

"What's with the lass? Planning to join my ghostly crew?" Jaxton inquired.

"Thanks for the offer, Captain," Grayson raised an eyebrow and looked at Katheren, "But it might be a tad premature to enlist her. Perhaps in seventy or eighty years, I'll send her your way."

"Then it's a deal!" Jaxton laughed heartily, firing his ghostly flintlock into the sky. A ghostly dinghy approached the shore.

Grayson boarded the boat with Katheren, and they set sail into the sea.

"King of the liches is dead; no one controls you now. You are free," Grayson told Jaxton.

"I know, and it feels great. All I want is to drink my rum and laugh," Jaxton said, guzzling from his flask.

Grayson smiled, "My task is done. What about your promise?"

Jaxton's laughter ceased, his eyes gleaming with cunning. "I'm free now, aren't I? What makes you think you can command me to help you?"

"Simple. If I could defeat your master, I can do the same to you," Grayson said calmly, his eyes fixed on Jaxton, "And I don't think Lia would like to see her father's head split by my sword."