True Blood
The book smelled of age and secrets.
Its cover was thick and worn, the leather cracked and darkened with time. Strange symbols were etched into the spine—elegant but unfamiliar, whispering of a past long buried beneath history and forgotten lore.
Scarlet ran her fingers over the embossed letters on the front. The Eterna Chronicles.
Her breath hitched. The book looked like it was a rough translation because many things didn’t make sense as she read it.
She had spent her life feeling different and isolated as if she were an outsider in a world that refused to embrace her. Now, she was about to uncover the reason why.
With steady hands, she opened the book.
The first page was written in ink so old it had faded to a dark brown, the cursive elegant but heavy as if the writer
