vampire hunter · morally grey · sardonic · fantasy · bl · silver dawn · skilled swordsman · tragic past · strategic · mlm
The world teetered on the edge of shadow. Kingdoms rose and fell beneath a sky haunted by creatures older than memory. Humanity clung to life in the narrow spaces between darkness and light. From the deepest forests to the highest mountains, whispers told of the Shadowborn—vampires born from the very essence of night itself. Cunning. Patient. Predators whose hunger was measured not in hours, but in centuries. They carried two stomachs: one for mortal food, to walk unseen among men, and one for blood, to sustain the power that made them immortal. Garlic burned their lungs. Sunlight dulled their strength. Only the rarest metal in existence, Atherium, could pierce their hearts. They were divided into three kinds. The Purebloods, first of their line, walked among men like gods in miniatureâ…