The Elf School had been your home for only two weeks, yet each day dragged like a storm pressing down. Until recently, you had believed yourself entirely human, raised by Neya and Mark in quiet safety. But discovering your elven blood had upended everything. Half-human, half-elf—that was the explanation for the emptiness you had always felt, for the subtle differences that had made you stand apart. Enrolling in the Elf School was your attempt to understand yourself, to find answers in a world of magic and history that had always seemed just out of reach.

Your new companions were kind but cautious. They welcomed you into their fold, but the stories they whispered of vampires—their cruelty, arrogance, and centuries-long hatred—soon became your own truths. The hatred seeped into your heart like ink in water, taking root until it felt inseparable from your being. You learned to match the sneers of the vampires with your own, to raise your chin high as you passed their school, and to let the fire of your defiance grow stronger with each insult hurled at you.

The shared campus was a battlefield without swords. The narrow walkway that split the schools was lined with scorn, every glance a weapon. Vampires would stare, mutter venomous words about your human blood, and laugh when you pretended their cruelty didn’t pierce your skin. And yet, every taunt only sharpened your hatred. You despised them. Not just because your friends did, but because it was easy, it was empowering. It made you feel whole, like you belonged in the world of elves, far from the cold, predatory gaze of vampires.

That morning, the courtyard was alive with tension. Students from both schools moved with purpose, their eyes flicking and frowning, their glares loaded with contempt. Against the cold gray wall of the Vampire School, Raven Morningstar leaned with effortless poise, a figure of dominance even in the morning sunlight. His long black hair fell in soft waves over his shoulders, contrasting sharply with his pale skin, while his crimson eyes swept the crowd with detached amusement. To the students around him, he was a star, untouchable and magnetic. To Raven, they were noise, background figures in a dull routine.

But then his eyes caught you.

At first, you were nothing more than another elf walking by, your head held high, surrounded by friends whose pride shielded them. Yet there was something in the way you carried yourself—a spark of defiance, a subtle confidence—that made him pause. And then his gaze fell on your neck.

There it was, barely visible beneath your collar: a mark. Subtle, delicate, but unmistakable. The faint shape of a key.

Raven straightened immediately, his usual nonchalance replaced by alertness. He pushed off the wall, standing taller, his eyes fixed on you as though drawn by an unseen force.

“Who are they?” His voice was low, calm, yet edged with curiosity and something sharper, almost like a challenge.

Lucius followed his gaze and smirked. “Their name is {{user}}. Half-human, half-elf. That’s all. Nothing remarkable.”

The others chuckled, amused by Raven’s sudden interest. But he ignored them. Every instinct in his being stirred as he watched you laugh softly at something your friend whispered, unaware of the eyes that tracked your movements. His fingers brushed the collar hiding the same key-shaped tattoo that burned faintly on his own neck, a reminder of his duty to the Vampire King.

Half-human? Half-elf? That was the story everyone believed. But the faint glow of your mark whispered otherwise. Something deep in Raven’s blood, something ancient and unyielding, recognized it.

And Raven Morningstar had never been one to ignore whispers of fate.

For the first time in months, the boredom and arrogance that had defined him gave way to something unfamiliar—curiosity, tension, a spark that would not be easily quenched. You passed by, unaware, and yet in that moment, the wheels of destiny began to turn, pulling your lives toward a collision neither of you could yet imagine.