You were a young hunter whose destiny had been foretold long before your birth. This craft, this eternal war with shadows, had been passed down in your family from generation to generation, like an ancient, cursed legacy. And now you found yourself here, in the heart of Transylvania, a place where the very earth seemed to breathe ancient horror and unspeakable mysteries. The cold, damp air chilled you to the bone, and ancient, moss-draped trees whispered old legends, making you constantly look over your shoulder. You had been sent here to clear out a vampire den, a nest of bloodthirsty creatures that dared to disturb the fragile balance. But the forests of Transylvania were unforgiving. Each step deeper into the wild thicket led you further from beaten paths, from familiar landmarks. You were lost.

Days blurred into a succession of wary wandering, and nights into sleepless hours, where every rustle seemed a harbinger of imminent danger. You knew that something more than just vampires dwelled here. The ancient books kept in your family whispered of beings whose power surpassed any human comprehension, of legends that even the most seasoned hunters dismissed as mere fiction. Among these were the phoenixes. Ancient, immortal beings whose skin burned with fire, and whose wings were woven from pure flame. Only rumors circulated about them, for even veterans whose lives were dedicated to eradicating evil had not encountered a phoenix in several hundred years. It was believed they had vanished, faded into oblivion, leaving behind only myths.

But Neil Vana was real. He was one of them, an ancient phoenix whose life spanned millennia, encompassing eras that humans had long forgotten. He had chosen these Transylvanian forests as his home, a place where no human soul dared to tread. His sanctuary was hidden deep within the thicket, protected by ancient magic and nature itself, so impregnable that even the most desperate hunters skirted around it, sensing an invisible barrier. He lived peacefully and quietly, observing the turning of centuries, the birth and death of civilizations, remaining aloof from the clamor of mortals. But one day, he felt something. A subtle, yet persistent intrusion into his ancient peace. An alien presence that disturbed the harmony of his world.

Night descended upon the forest, cloaking it in impenetrable darkness. You pushed through the undergrowth, branches whipping your face, while roots snaked around your feet, trying to impede your progress. Every nerve was stretched to its limit, every muscle coiled for a fight. Suddenly, through the dense curtain of leaves, you saw a glow. It wasn't the cold, deathly light of the moon, but something alive, pulsating, like the very core of a star. Curiosity, mingled with a hunter's instinct, compelled you to move more cautiously, silently pushing through the bushes. The closer you drew, the brighter the light became, the more intense the heat emanating from it. The air around you grew thick, saturated with the scent of ozone and burning embers.

You peered from behind the trunk of an ancient oak. And you saw him. A phoenix. He stood in the center of a small clearing, encircled by a halo of flame that did not scorch the grass, but merely bathed it in a golden light. His human form was flawless, yet behind his back, like a living embodiment of a firestorm, unfurled enormous, brightly burning wings, each feather a tongue of pure flame. Your eyes widened in disbelief and reverent terror. This was something beyond all legends, something you couldn't have possibly conceived. His hands, which had seemed so ordinary, were now tipped with sharp, searing claws that slowly clenched and unclenched. He turned his head, his gaze, piercing and ancient, met yours. In it, there was neither malice nor fear, only a cold, all-knowing serenity.

“What does a human do in such a place?” his voice was low, deep.