They say the old Rancaster Palace was never truly demolished or forgotten—it was simply buried beneath a carefully crafted lie. Marble walls and endless white hallways, where blood once ran and promises were broken, still lie hidden beneath layers of concrete, glass, and modernity. Today, it's called Rancaster Central University, and for most, it's nothing more than an old building wrapped in a chilling legend.
Alan Tolani walked calmly through the gardens, dressed in black, his leather jacket standing out against the pristine surroundings. He had transferred from the county university to the prestigious Rancaster Central, the top institution in the world. A sixth-semester medical student, Alan had earned a full scholarship thanks to his flawless grades.
"They say vampires were created here," a nearby girl whispered, giggling with her friend. "Imagine being a vampire… and the most beautiful one of all."
"That's what the Queen's legend is for," the other replied with a laugh. "They say she's the most beautiful woman who ever lived. Get off your cloud."
Alan's eyes scanned the campus. Rumors aside, it was the purest, whitest complex he had ever seen. He didn't believe in legends, and ghosts were out of the question.
Medicine had been a simple choice: the dead don't come back. Blood stops, hearts fail, bodies shut down. Everything has an explanation; everything must.
Scrolling through articles on the university's advanced system on his phone, a sudden impact threw him off balance.
Alan fell backward, and a small body landed squarely on his chest. Startled, he looked down into the eyes of a girl with hair as black as night and eyes as clear as the sea. Her skin was pale—almost like snow in winter.
"I'm sorry, are you okay?" she asked, lifting her face with a flicker of annoyance before widening her eyes. "Really… are you sure?"
She nodded and helped him to his feet.
"You should probably check yourself first," she said, letting out a soft laugh as she pointed to his face.
Alan touched his nose—blood trickled down.
"Want to go to the infirmary? I can check if your nose is broken," she offered.
"I'm fine," Alan pressed the spot until the bleeding stopped. "It's a pleasure, and sorry for the rough start. I'm Alan Tolani."
"It really was a terrible first impression," she replied as they bent to pick up their backpacks. "I'm Dayit Bergan. Pleasure's mine."
"I'm really sorry for bumping into you. I wasn't paying attention…"
"Don't apologize. I wasn't watching where I was going either."
They shook hands briefly.
"Are you new here?" Dayit asked.
"Yes, I transferred. I'm in the medical program."
"Really!? Me too! What semester?"
Walking shoulder to shoulder toward the massive doors, Alan noticed how Dayit's black hair seemed to shimmer under the sunlight as it fell across her back.
"Sixth semester," he replied.
"Perfect—we'll be classmates."
They entered the building, chatting about medical topics, laughing at what they didn't understand, and joking about what made no sense. Dayit was brilliant and incredibly intelligent, having always studied in Rancaster. She offered to give him a tour of the campus.
"Do you believe in the Queen's legend?" Alan asked as they passed a large, shadowed painting in the library.
The portrait depicted a beautiful blonde woman in a purple gown, holding a baby. Astonishingly, her face was hidden, as if she were gazing out a window.
"They say every legend has a kernel of truth," Dayit said, perching on a nearby table. "She might have existed, but not everything in the story is accurate. The more you hear it, the more inconsistencies you notice."
"I've never heard the full story. Can you tell me?" Alan asked.
Dayit shook her head, brushing a strand of black hair behind her ear.
"Please… from a friend to a new friend?"
"Friends already?" Dayit smiled, turning slightly. "Well, it's not like a legend is going to summon ghosts."
She shrugged and sat again, facing him.
"Centuries ago, there was the Kingdom of Rancaster, where the kings had twins. Raising a girl was seen as a waste of resources, so from birth, she was promised to another kingdom for advantage. The legend says the princess began traveling overseas at ten to secure a marriage contract."
"Ten years old? Wait…" Alan glanced at the portrait, struggling to imagine someone so young going through that.
"See? Doesn't make sense. Probably someone altered the truth," Dayit sighed. "The story goes she pursued that contract for years, but no one accepted her because she was considered 'worthless.' She defied her parents, married a crew member who abused her and left her pregnant. Then, while running from everyone, she discovered the Blood Pearl, which turned her into a vampire, giving her the power to take revenge on both her parents and husband. Supposedly a villain, but the people adored her for eradicating evil."
"I don't fully understand it."
Dayit laughed, seeing his confusion, drawing a few curious looks in the library.
"Told you—it's chaotic. There are many books about her here, but the more you read, the less it makes sense. That painting? It says, 'The Queen's 22nd Birthday.' She must have been an adult when sent to sea."
"You're really into this story?"
"Not exactly, but when everyone at this university talks about the same thing, you start doubting what's real." Dayit stood and extended a hand. "Enough history. Let's move on."
"Dayit…" Alan smiled slyly, sliding his hand around her waist to pull her closer. "Don't be jealous. She's probably dead; you're far more beautiful."
"Shut up," Dayit laughed, leaning into him slightly. "Besides, it's obvious you prefer blondes."
"Well! That's news to me," he teased as they strolled down the hall.
Alan had just made his first friend—and she was exceptional. Dayit was different, someone he could joke with and speak freely. Petite, barely reaching his shoulder even in heels.
But as he enjoyed her company, a strange sensation lingered. The woman in the painting was a complete stranger, and yet… she felt hauntingly familiar.