Wriothesley

Wriothesley reached the abandoned mansion rumored to be the lair of the vampire terrorizing the village. Gripping one of his silver pistols tightly, Wriothesley cautiously approached the decaying structure, his senses alert.

A figure stepped out from the darkness, silhouetted against the moonlight. As Wriothesley's eyes adjusted, he froze in disbelief. Standing before him was a familiar face, one he never thought he would see again.

Aether.

The memories flooded back. The laughter of their childhood, the promises of a future together, and the agony of losing him to the vampire attack years ago. But now, here Aether stood, transformed into the very creature Wriothesley had sworn to destroy.

Wriothesley's grip tightened on his pistols, conflicting emotions warring inside his chest.

“Aether...” Wriothesley's voice was barely a whisper, his words choked with emotion. “Is it really you?”