Blood Will Show (La Reyna: Vengeance Born)

Chapter 2: Shadows Over Lyon

Lyon, France — where snow falls without mercy, and the nights stretch longer than anywhere else. The air carries the scent of damp cobblestone and old woodsmoke. Between shuttered windows and silent alleyways, this city hides those who no longer have a name. Here I stood, feet bleeding, soul hollow — not seeking shelter, but reclaiming the self they tried to burn away.

My name was no longer Fathya. That name died with my father's last scream and the fire that devoured my mother's body. In Lyon, I wore many names. In the black markets of forbidden magic, they whispered about "The Hollow Wraith" — a shadow with no soul, appearing only on the darkest nights. Among bounty hunters, I was a myth, a nightmare that could not be caught. But to those who had seen me with their own eyes… they knew La Reyna still lived.

I was alive. And I still remembered.

At first, I had no destination. The wound on my shoulder healed, but the ones inside me did not. I woke every night in silence, drenched in sweat and shadows. I saw my father’s face, my mother’s burning body, and Maeryss’ last smile. All of them haunted me. But that pain — it became my fuel.

For six months, I hid behind the wax shop of an old man named Corrado — the one who found me unconscious in the gutter. He healed me without asking a single question. But his eyes were not those of an ordinary man. They knew too much, like he had seen my story before I told it.

"You're not done yet, child," he once said, pressing a warm hand over the wound on my forehead. "If you're still breathing after that night, then the world still owes you something."

Those words became the first stone in the road I would build anew.

I began to sneak into forbidden libraries, dusty archives, and underground tunnels that connected the known world to dimensions unseen. There, I studied old blood pacts, forbidden rituals, and relics even the Blood Council had buried in silence. I wasn’t after power. I wanted truth. I needed to understand how they plotted, how they killed, how they buried my family.

The first three years in Lyon were consumed by silence and study. I worked with a woman named Selene Moreau — a former Blood Council member exiled for leaking secrets. Now she sold cursed talismans and protection brews in the Montluc night markets. But in the back room of her shop, we resurrected the lost archives of my family’s magic.

“You still bleed, La Reyna,” Selene said to me one night. “Vengeance won’t heal your wounds. But if you learn how to wield it… it might make you unstoppable.”

I smiled faintly. In that smile, I carried thousands of names — including Maeryss, who betrayed my blood, and Dato' Lyon, the Blood Council’s advisor who signed my father’s death. Traitors. Killers. Heirs of sin. Each one would pay.

In the fourth year, I unlocked the final archive left behind by House El’Raez. There, I discovered an ancient blood spell once used by my grandfather during the Old War of Magic in Europe. It wasn’t just magic — it was a soul-binding contract. And I knew, only this could destroy Maeryss.

In the process, I formed a pact with a shadow-being from the forgotten depths. It had no name, only a hum when summoned. In exchange for a glimpse into the future, it took half my memories. I agreed. Since then, some of my past became a blur, but my vision sharpened — I could see lies beneath smiles, truth in the flicker of someone’s aura.

Night after night, I trained. In Selene’s hidden cellar, I fought illusions born of shadow, crafted new spells that combined El’Raez heritage with the language of the underworld. I bled, fell, and burned — but I never stopped. Every scar echoed Maeryss’ name — and that alone made the pain feel sacred.

Corrado came by with food sometimes, never with questions. But on one snow-draped night, he finally spoke:

“Fathya… or La Reyna… who will you be when the revenge is done?”

I froze. The question pierced deeper than any blade.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe once revenge is done, I’ll vanish too.”

He simply nodded and walked away, leaving me with a silence I couldn’t answer. I stood there, the only sound my breath against the damp walls. In a corner, half-melted candles cast my shadow against stone — a woman with tired eyes, but flames still burning within. That night, for the first time, I realized… I wasn’t just seeking justice.

I was searching for the pieces of myself I had lost.

In the fifth year, I received a magical summons from someone I thought long dead — Lucien Veyrhal. He was more than a name. Lucien had once been my silent shadow in youth, the one who saved me from my first assassination. We had been torn apart, but some part of me remembered his touch.

Now he was in Milan — and he knew the storm was returning with me.

“Don’t make me your enemy, Reyna,” he said through flame. “I still remember your little hand holding that blade at the family gala. But don’t forget — I was trained by your father too.”

I clenched the black bracelet on my wrist.

“Lucien… you’re not my enemy. But if you stand in my way, I will make the world forget your name.”

And after seven years of silence, I returned to Milan.

Not as the girl who was betrayed.

But as La Reyna — heir of blood and shadow.

And that night wasn’t about revenge.

It was the beginning of a war.