Three Days to Ash

Staring at the encrypted audio file on the screen, I sent it with a single tap to Damien and my parents.

Then, I sent a backup copy to every member of the Kindred's High Council.

As the progress bar moved, Isabella's venomous and triumphant voice echoed in the dead silence:

"The vervain in the blood packs, the route for the hunter's ambush, all my handiwork."

"So just die peacefully. Once you've turned to ash, I'll be Damien's one and only love."

Then, I removed the SIM card from my phone and severed all contact through our blood vow.

In the last twenty hours before I turned to ash, I had finally accomplished one remarkable thing.

Now, I just wanted to walk the final stretch of my path in peace.

The sky had completely darkened, and the neon lights outside the motel flickered with a harsh glare.

I dragged my weak body out of the room and headed toward the old antique district on the edge of the city.

It was the only place in this world that might still accept me.

After walking for over half an hour, I finally reached the small antique shop.

Through the window, I saw Maria organizing antiques, her movements gentle and focused.

"Miss Maria," I said, gently pushing the door open.

She looked up and saw me, her face immediately clouding with concern. "Seraphina? You poor child, your aura has grown so weak."

"Can… can I stay here for a little while?"

"Of course, sit down and rest." Maria immediately put down the object in her hand and hurried over to support my swaying body. "Your bloodline is depleting. Wait here, I'll get something from the cellar."

She didn't ask any questions, just silently prepared some sustenance for me.

This unconditional kindness made my eyes well up again.

Maria brought a cup of warm blood, which emanated the purest life energy.

"Drink this. It will make you feel a little better."

I sipped the blood, the warm liquid bringing some warmth back to my cold body.

"Child, why are you not at home?" Maria asked softly.

"I don't have a home anymore," I answered calmly. "They don't want me."

A flicker of pain crossed Maria's eyes. "I, too, lost a fledgling daughter in the Holy War of the last century."

"She died on a hunter's stake."

"If she could stand before me now, I imagine she would be as gentle and beautiful as you."

She reached out and stroked my hair, like a mother comforting her child.

"Seraphina, if you're willing, let me take care of you. Think of it as… a balm for the centuries of regret I've carried."

I could no longer control my emotions, and tears streamed down my face.

In these long, desperate years, it was the first time I had tasted the feeling of being cherished like a mother's child.

Not because of any noble title I held, nor because of any benefit I could bring to the family.

It was born purely of compassion and love from the depths of her soul.

"Come, let's go rest in the back room." Maria helped me to my feet.

Her cottage was simple but incredibly warm.

Maria helped me out of my blood-stained coat and into a soft, comfortable vintage velvet dress.

"Your hair is so beautiful, like starlight in the night sky," she said gently, combing my hair.

I nestled into her warm embrace, enveloped by an endless sense of peace.

The toxic sores and excruciating pain that had tormented me for centuries seemed to miraculously subside in that moment.

"Miss Maria, thank you."

"Don't be silly, child," her voice choked a little. "It is you who has reminded me what it feels like to be a mother."

I closed my eyes, my consciousness beginning to fade.

My bloodline's energy was dissipating, bit by bit, yet my heart was calmer than it had ever been.

At least in my final moments, someone truly loved me.

As my consciousness began to slip into eternal darkness, I heard Maria whisper in my ear:

"Sleep now, child, just like my little daughter… Sleep peacefully…"

I tried to return her smile, but I no longer had the strength to even move my lips.

I only felt my body growing lighter and my bloodline withering away, as my soul prepared to leave this broken vessel.