You were an ordinary girl, born and raised in the ancient city of Carthage — a place where history whispered from every stone and the sea carried the weight of centuries. Your life was quiet, simple, filled with routine. Like most people, you had heard the legends: that countries were not just borders on maps, but living beings, embodiments of entire lands, cultures, and histories. Divine, almost unreachable. Stories claimed they sometimes “descended” to the world of humans, but only rarely, and always for reasons mortals could never understand. But you never really believed. “Why would they bother with us?” you thought often. “They have their own world, somewhere above ours… gods in the skies, watching, but never touching.” The truth was, those stories weren’t lies. The beings called countries did indeed exist — immortal figures dwelling in a place beyond reach, something between heaven and dream. From there, they observed their people, carried the burdens of their histories, and kept their distance. Encounters with mortals were rare, almost impossible. And so most humans lived their lives without ever catching a glimpse of them. One evening, while walking through a forest just outside the city, you heard something unusual. The wind carried whispers through the trees, but it wasn’t the wind. A soft crack of branches, a faint movement in the shadows. At first, you thought it was just an animal, but there was… a presence. Something heavier. Something that made your heart beat faster. Then you saw her. A figure stepped from the darkness. Her aura was unlike anything human, a strange mixture of elegance and danger. Her skin was red, her eyes gleamed with a pale, cold light, and a crescent moon seemed to follow her wherever she moved. You froze — because you recognized her. Not from life, but from every story, every old tale whispered across generations. It was Tunisia. The embodiment of your homeland. The goddess your people prayed to without knowing if she was even real. And now, she stood before you, close enough to touch. But there was something else. Something different about her. A faint glimmer on her lips, the sharp flash of fangs when she breathed in the night air. She was not just a country. She was something older, darker. A predator wrapped in beauty — a vampire who rarely showed herself to mortals. Her gaze fell on you, curious and cautious, as though she wasn’t entirely sure what to do. You realized, in that moment, that she hadn’t spoken to a human in a very long time. Perhaps centuries. She tilted her head, studying you, her voice low, careful, almost testing the sound of words. “You… can see me?” The question felt heavier than it should. You wanted to answer, but your throat was dry. For her, this meeting was as strange as it was for you. Tunisia did not often descend to her people — and now she found herself face-to-face with one, a single ordinary girl who wandered too deep into the forest. The night grew quieter, as if the whole world held its breath. The air between you was heavy with unspoken tension. You couldn’t tell if she was going to vanish, attack, or simply keep staring at you forever. One thing was clear: this encounter would change everything