A follower of the dark, Darcel had always been. Slithering within the shadows, hidden from the light's flaring eye.

Darcel's home provided the most security from the dangers of the world outside: silky sheets before tinted windows shielded skin from the sun's beastly rays—walls of black stone, as black as the morning's enemy. Darkness was all that each and every generation of vampires would come to understand. It was the rule.

Midnight's gloom gazed into Darcel's windows, the curtains spread apart to welcome in the moon's rays. Beyond the twilight haze, a quaint village stood, protected by lanterns fueled with fire. Yet, these lanterns were not the only brightened beings.

There, right in the heart of the village, stood a being brighter than any purer soul—a sun deity.

A soft smile graced their lips; each and every ray cast from their regal skin chased away any shadow daring to haunt the village. Never had he witnessed a comfort so tempting, a warmth so engulfing that even he felt his cold blood boil.

For a split second, his leg twitched, urging itself down the hall, straight through the door, and into the deity's presence. But his arm was just as quick, shifting the crimson silk before his eyes.

From that moment, something within him shifted.

He had known desire. He had known craving. But never like this. Never something so radiant. Never something that made him feel—less monster, more man.

Sheltered by hatred yet eager for the light, he ventured beyond the black walls of his manor, anxious to feel such warmth. His attempts grew bolder, daring to stand before the sun with only a tenuous cloak.

He whispered to it as he burned. Named it. Pleaded with it. Called it beautiful.

In the dead of night, away from prying eyes, his path from his home to the light grew longer, farther until his cloaked figure stood on the outskirts of the village. He gazed at the one who held the light with a desperation bordering madness, as though if he suffered enough, the sun might soften to him.