A month later, Lelya lasted a full minute against Lilith for the first time.

  It wasn’t much — in an ordinary fight, a minute meant nothing. But against a Higher Vampire with centuries of experience, against a being that could snap her neck with one motion, a minute was an eternity.

  When Lilith finally knocked her down, Lelya lay on the mats and smiled. Her ribs ached, her lip was split, stars danced in her eyes — but she was smiling.

  — A minute, — she said. — A whole minute.

  — Fifty-three seconds, — Lilith corrected, though her voice carried a shade of something close to approval. — But yes. Not bad.

  She extended a hand, and Lelya accepted. Over the past month she had learned to take Lilith’s help without hesitation — and that alone was progress.

  — Break, — said Lilith. — Fifteen minutes. Then we work on attacking in animal form.

  Lelya nodded and made her way to the bench. She sat down, pulled out a water bottle, and drank for a long time, gazing at the training hall.

  Over the past month this place had become almost familiar. She recognized the scratches on the floor, the stains on the mats, the creak of the training dummies. And she was starting to recognize people — not by name, but by face, by the way they moved, by the type of magic they used.

  The tall blond in the corner — a battle mage specializing in ranged attacks. The pair at the heavy bag — working in tandem, one distracting while the other struck. The silver-haired woman by the entrance — a healer, patching up those who’d pushed too hard.

  They had all looked at Lelya with suspicion during the first week. The Minister of Foreign Affairs in special forces — strange, almost insulting. What was a diplomat doing among real fighters?

  But gradually the looks shifted. Not because Lelya had gotten better at fighting — she still lost most sparring matches. Because she came every day. Fell and got up. Was injured and came back.

  Lilith walked over and sat beside her. This was unusual — she normally kept her distance.

  — You asked about my people, — she said without preamble.

  Lelya froze with the bottle at her lips.

  — Yes.

  — You know what makes Monolith special, what sets it apart from other states?

  The question caught her off guard.

  — Of course. A federation, different regions, each living by its own rules…

  — Not just its own rules. — Lilith was staring into space. — Each region decides for itself what way of life to follow. Have you been to the west?

  — No.

  — There are regions that chose the Middle Ages. Literally. Wooden plows, linen shirts, prayers to old gods. No cars, no electricity, no phones. — Lilith gave a faint smirk. — The only exception is the medical stations, and food deliveries from the country’s reserves in lean years. Monolith requires all regions to accept modern medicine and ensure proper nutrition. That’s non-negotiable. It’s why Monolith has the highest-quality, most delicious food — grown and produced without chemicals or artificial fertilizers.

  And in the east — the opposite. High technology, skyscrapers, artificial intelligence. They compete with the Citadel for supremacy in progress.

  — Yes, I’ve always found it baffling how people can choose to live without the comforts of civilization. The west never appealed to me.

  — Right. Monolith is… interesting. An attempt to prove that different peoples can live together without losing themselves. — Lilith turned to her. — My people, part of the People Who Followed the Sun, are now part of Monolith too. But we didn’t join voluntarily.

  Lelya was silent, waiting.

  — Several centuries ago, Monolith decided it wanted our lands, — Lilith continued. Her voice was level, but Lelya could see her shoulders tighten. — One of the tribes of the People Who Followed the Sun. We were peaceful, wise, homebodies. But when trouble came…

  — You became desperate.

  — Yes. — Lilith nodded. — We fought. Without hope of winning, but we fought. My people lost lives every day, every night. And I… — she looked at her hands, — I was one of those who killed in return. Monolith soldiers, commanders, generals — I cut them down without mercy. I thought it was the only way to protect my own.

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  — What changed?

  — We lost. — Lilith’s voice stayed level, but Lelya could feel what it cost her. — My people were annexed by force. Many died. Many were executed. I fled, hid, planned a rebellion that never came.

  She fell silent. Lelya waited.

  — And then time passed. Centuries. And I saw that my people… were living. Not just surviving — living. As part of Monolith they gained what they’d never had: stability, safety. They kept their lands, their traditions, their laws. Monolith didn’t erase them — it… absorbed them. Yes, we pay Monolith a great deal…

  — Does that justify the conquest?

  — No. — Lilith shook her head. — Nothing justifies what was done to us. But it… shifts the perspective. My people are part of the federation now. They survived. And I realized I could help them more from inside than from outside.

  — So you came to Monolith?

  — I did. I went to the chief mage and said: I’m ready to serve.

  — And they believed you?

  Lilith laughed — bitterly, without humor.

  — No, of course not. Mages live for millennia. They remember every person I killed. They accepted me, but they never fully trusted me. — She shrugged. — I don’t blame them. In their place, I wouldn’t trust me either.

  Lelya was quiet for a long time, considering what she’d heard. Then she said:

  — Thank you.

  — For what?

  — For telling me. You didn’t have to.

  Lilith gave her a strange look.

  — You’re the first one who asked. — She stood. — Everyone else just reads the file and draws their conclusions. You wanted to hear me.

  — I’m a diplomat, — Lelya smiled. — Listening is my job.

  — Maybe. — Lilith offered her hand. — Now get up. Break’s over.

  Lelya took her hand and rose.

  Something had changed between them. Not friendship — not yet. But the first crack in the wall had appeared.

  Two months into training, Lelya saw Lilith in a real fight for the first time.

  It happened during a field exercise — a simple one, they’d said. Escorting cargo through one of the western regions of Monolith, where the locals had chosen to live by old traditions. Medieval villages, wheat fields, windmills on the hills. Lelya was included as an observer — ‘so you understand how our people work in the field,’ the instructor explained.

  The village was called LakeLand — a tiny settlement on the shore of a murky pond. The residents wore linen shirts and leather boots, plowed the earth with wooden plows, prayed to gods no one had remembered for ages. The only sign of modernity was a small medical station on the outskirts.

  That station was what they attacked.

  Lelya heard the screams first — the advantage of a shifter’s hearing. She leaned out of the van and saw smoke above the rooftops.

  — Lilith…

  — I see it. — Lilith was already on her feet. — Follow me. Don’t get ahead.

  They ran toward the station.

  There were people there — armed, in black masks, with knives and clubs. They were beating an elderly woman in a white coat who was trying to shield the building’s entrance with her body.

  Lelya lunged forward, but Lilith grabbed her shoulder.

  — Stay.

  — They’ll kill her!

  — There are eight of them. Armed. You can’t handle this.

  — Can you?

  Lilith didn’t answer. She simply vanished.

  No — she hadn’t vanished. She had moved so fast that Lelya couldn’t track the motion. One instant — and Lilith was among the attackers.

  What happened next, Lelya remembered in fragments.

  A dark blur flickering between bodies. Screams — short, cut off mid-syllable. Blood — a great deal of blood, dark, almost black in the light of the setting sun. The shadow-wings unfurling behind Lilith’s back as she rose above the last attacker.

  In thirty seconds it was over.

  Eight bodies lay on the ground. Lilith stood among them, and her face held nothing — no rage, no satisfaction, no revulsion. Just emptiness.

  — Check the woman, — she said in an even voice.

  The healer was alive — beaten, but alive. Lelya helped her sit up while the rest of the team inspected the station.

  — Who were they? — Lelya asked.

  — Locals, — the woman croaked. — Fanatics. They think medicine is an abomination. That diseases are sent by the gods, and treating them is a sin.

  — In Monolith?

  — Every region has its crazies. — The woman winced in pain. — Usually they just scream and spit. But lately… they’ve been getting bolder.

  Lelya glanced at the bodies. Lilith had already stepped aside, her silhouette motionless against the sunset.

  — She killed all of them.

  — Yes. — The woman followed her gaze. — I know who she is. The whole unit knows. That same Lilith who killed our people centuries ago.

  — And what do you think?

  The healer was quiet for a long time.

  — I think today she saved my life. — She looked at Lelya. — What do you think?

  Lelya didn’t answer. She was watching Lilith — her straight back, the shadow-wings still visible in the gathering dusk.

  Monster? Protector? Perhaps both at once.

  That evening, after the wounded had been evacuated and the bodies removed, Lelya found Lilith by the river. She was sitting on a rock, staring at the water.

  — May I? — Lelya asked.

  Lilith didn’t answer but shifted slightly. Lelya sat beside her.

  — Are you all right?

  — I killed eight people, — said Lilith flatly. — What do you think?

  — I don’t know. That’s why I’m asking.

  A long silence. The river murmured at their feet, carrying leaves and twigs somewhere downstream.

  — I stopped counting long ago, — Lilith said at last. — How many I’ve killed in my life. Hundreds? Thousands? I don’t remember. At some point it becomes… simple. Motion, strike, death. No emotion.

  — And that scares you?

  Lilith turned to her.

  — No. That’s what’s frightening. It should scare me, but it doesn’t.

  Lelya thought about her words.

  — You know what I saw today? — she asked. — I saw you protect a woman who couldn’t protect herself. I saw you do what needed to be done.

  — I killed eight people.

  — They were about to kill the healer. They were attacking a medical station — the only place people in this village can get help.

  — That doesn’t make me good.

  — No, — Lelya agreed. — But it makes you necessary.

  Lilith watched her in silence. Then gave a small nod.

  — You’re a strange one, diplomat.

  — I get that a lot.

  They sat by the river until dark. And when it was time to head back, Lilith walked beside Lelya for the first time, instead of ahead.