CHAPTER 129: THE RITE OF THE FIRST BLOOD

Night fell early.

Too early.

Clouds thickened above the compound like bruised smoke, swallowing the sky and dimming the moon. The air felt heavier by the hour, as if the atmosphere itself was waiting for something to happen.

Inside the suite, the tension was a living creature.

Aria sat propped against pillows, still weak, her breathing shallow but steady. Her hands rested protectively over her belly, fingers tracing soft circles over the place where her daughter moved gently beneath her skin.

Not frightened now.

Just aware.

Rosetta stayed at her side, whispering soft prayers, her rosary wrapped around her fingers so tightly they had turned pale. Dr. Henri adjusted the monitors again, his expression tight. Nico paced near the window, checking the perimeter through the cracks in the reinforced shutter.

And Luca stood at the foot of the bed, arms crossed, jaw clenched, staring at the man who had brought the storm to their doorstep.

Professor Vescari spread a set of ancient papers across the table. They were thin, yellowed with age, and written in a language no one in the room recognized.

He looked at Aria first.

"Before we begin, you must understand something."

Aria lifted her eyes to him, fragile but determined. "Tell me."

"This ritual will not protect you if your mind is not anchored. You must accept your bloodline without resisting it. You must allow it to rise inside you, not as a threat, but as a truth."

Aria’s breath wavered. "I can do that."

Vescari’s voice softened. "And you must understand something else. Once you accept the blood, you cannot give it back. You become what you were born to be."

Luca stepped forward, eyes narrowing. "Which is."

"The carrier of the first light," Vescari said. "The ancient title that once belonged to the first bearer. A protector. A shield. A woman whose soul can hold the flood of ancestral memory."

Rosetta whispered a prayer.

Nico stopped pacing.

Luca’s voice was low and controlled. "And what does she lose?"

Vescari turned slowly toward him.

"She loses her blindness."

Luca stiffened. "Explain."

"She will see everything her ancestors saw. Feel everything they felt. Know everything they carried. The memories of centuries will live inside her blood."

Aria’s grip tightened on her stomach.

"And what does she gain?" she whispered.

Vescari’s eyes softened. "The power to close the door completely."

Silence swallowed the room.

Finally, Aria said, "Then I accept."

Luca moved so fast that the papers on the table fluttered. He knelt in front of her, cupping her face in both hands. "Do not do this because he convinced you. Do not do this because he scared you. Do not do this because you think I want you to."

Aria covered his hands with hers. "I am doing this for her."

He swallowed. Hard. "Aria..."

She leaned forward slightly, her forehead brushing his. "I will not let the Patron call to her again. I will not let him pull her from my womb with a name older than this land. If becoming the bearer protects her, then I do it."

Luca closed his eyes. "You could lose who you are."

"I will never lose who I am," she whispered. "Not as long as you remind me."

He lifted her hand to his lips. "I will remind you every day."

Rosetta wiped tears from her eyes.

The professor cleared his throat gently. "It is time. The ritual must begin while the moon is veiled."

Aria inhaled shakily. "What do I do?"

Vescari picked up a small silver basin carved with symbols that glowed faintly under the candlelight. "You must sit upright. Uncovered. Your hands over your belly. Your breath steady."

Aria adjusted herself, wincing slightly from exhaustion.

Luca braced her shoulders. "Slow. I have you."

She settled into position, pushing aside the blanket. The thin gown she wore clung lightly to her skin, rising and falling with each nervous breath.

Vescari lit three candles and placed them in a triangle around the bed. Their flames burned white instead of gold, casting ethereal light across the room.

Nico muttered, "That is not normal."

"It is expected," Vescari replied. "The ancestry responds to its own."

The candles flickered violently, then steadied.

Vescari dipped his fingers into a small vial and touched Aria’s forehead. "This is the mark of memory."

She inhaled sharply at the cold sting but did not pull away.

He touched her chest between her collarbones. "This is the mark of acceptance."

Her breath trembled.

Then he touched her belly, directly above where the child lay. "And this is the mark of the future."

The air changed instantly.

The room grew warmer, then colder, then warmer again. The walls seemed to pulse with invisible energy. The candles leaned inward, flames bending toward Aria as though pulled by some magnetic force.

Vescari began to chant.

The language was ancient, harsh, and soft at the same time, filled with guttural consonants and flowing syllables. The sound resonated in Aria’s bones. Her spine straightened involuntarily. Her eyes fluttered open, glowing faintly.

Luca tensed. "Aria."

She squeezed his hand weakly. "I am here."

But her voice was layered.

Her voice was not alone.

Vescari continued chanting, his voice gaining strength.

Aria gasped as something flickered behind her eyes. A flash of light. A glimpse of faces she did not know. A battlefield covered in fog. Women standing in a circle. A child wrapped in gold cloth.

She inhaled sharply. "I see them."

"Who?" Luca asked immediately.

"My ancestors," she whispered. "All of them."

Her eyes widened. "They are watching me."

Rosetta clutched her rosary tighter.

Vescari’s chanting quickened.

The air vibrated.

The candles flared.

Aria arched slightly, grabbing Luca’s shirt. "It hurts."

He held her tighter. "Then hold on to me."

She cried out softly as the flood of memories surged again. She saw images not her own. Lives not her own. Pain not her own. Every heartbeat of every bearer before her.

Her chest heaved.

Her head snapped back.

Luca caught her instantly. "Aria. Aria."

She choked out, "It is too much."

Luca pressed his forehead against hers. "Give the pain to me. You hear me. Give it to me."

She trembled violently but clung to him.

Vescari stepped closer. "She must speak the acceptance."

Aria gasped. "Speak what?"

"The vow," he said gently. "Repeat after me."

Her body shook uncontrollably.

Luca held her tighter. "You can do this."

Vescari spoke slowly, reverently. "Anima prima... lumen meum..."

Aria swallowed. Her voice cracked. "Anima... prima... lumen... meum..."

The candles burst upward, flames stretching tall and thin like reaching fingers.

Vescari continued. "Sanguis vetus. Cor meum. Ego recipio."

Aria cried out as another wave of memories surged.

"Aria," Luca whispered. "Do not stop."

She forced the words out. "Sanguis... vetus... cor meum... ego... recipio."

The last word left her lips like a breath torn from her soul.

The candles were extinguished.

All three.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Aria collapsed forward into Luca’s arms.

For a long moment, no one breathed.

Then Vescari lit one candle with a shaking hand.

Aria’s skin glowed faintly.

But different than before.

Not with the white light of the Patron’s calling.

This was gold.

Warm.

Steady.

Alive.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

She whispered, "I feel... stronger."

Luca cupped her face, searching her eyes. "Are you still you?"

She smiled gently. "Yes. I am me."

Then her smile faded.

"But I am more."

He exhaled shakily. "Come back to me. Every time."

"I will."

Rosetta wiped tears from her cheeks. "It is done."

Vescari shook his head slowly. "It is only beginning."

Luca stood tall, still holding Aria close. "What now?"

The historian looked at the window.

"The Patron will feel her transformation. He will feel the power shift in the bloodline. And he will come."

Aria rested her hand over her belly. "Let him."

Vescari’s eyes widened. "Child, why would you invite that?"

Aria’s expression hardened, a new strength stirring behind her eyes.

"Because now he is not calling me."

She looked at Luca.

"He is answering to me."