Empousa Bathory

'The moon is but a dream of the sun, and thus we were forgotten by the light.'

Born of darkness, yet imprisoned by it. To Empousa, a Bloodborn's immortality is not a gift but a curse—daylight exists as an unreachable shore. The Bloodborn took her freedom, while her position as the Bathory family heir stripped away her identity.

She seeks a key—one that would free her from this cage called 'Empousa'...

The Moonfall Games are like an exquisite robe woven by the Hall of the Elders, crawling with lice beneath its splendor.

The maidens wake, fight, and die—the same cycle repeats endlessly.

'Are we... just vessels to be replaced and discarded at will?'

Rage surges forth—Empousa's first taste of raw, unfiltered emotion.

The pulse of shared blood tells her that this game should not be ruled by mutual slaughter.

She adorns the maidens' hair with scarlet flowers, letting them call her sister. She wants to live—to help everyone live.

Even now those unnaturally red flowers still bloom in the castle's back garden. Only later did I learn they were nourished by the blood of fallen maidens.

I remember Cain saying that he had originally meant for Lamia to go to Starfall Valley that night.

Empousa happened to overhear his conversation with Lamia, and that's why she arrived there first.

At first, I thought it was just typical rivalry between heirs, until Aiona revealed another side of the story—

That night, Empousa passed by the study, expecting to hear them discuss the usual topics like Alchemy or prophecies.

Until the word 'dangerous' caught her ear, and she heard Cain ordering Lamia to rescue a silver-haired man alone.

Fearing she might lose another sister, she immediately picked some scarlet flowers from the castle's back garden and, under cover of night, silently left the city disguised as a flower girl.

The rest of the story is likely familiar to all.

She descended like an arrow loosed from its bow. Like Death's bat servant, she landed at the coachman's neck.

'The moon is but a dream of the sun, and thus we were forgotten by the light.'

She was beautiful as she sang at the cliff's edge, yet her song etched an eternal question in the hearts of those who heard.

When someone vanishes, are they erased from the world? I'm not certain, but I know I will remember her from tonight.

My answer seemed to move her. Before the stake, she sank her fangs into my neck and took my blood.

My vision turned scarlet, just like the flowers in her basket. I wonder if my answer helped resolve her doubts.

Before we embarked, Empousa left her flower basket in the study. Thinking they were flowers she cherished, I kindly reminded her.

'My affairs are none of your concern,' she snapped. I didn't understand her anger, just like many times before.

So we became 'accomplices of fate,' and I gradually came to understand the meaning behind the scarlet flowers.

Unusually red, yet tragically short-lived—perhaps a reflection of the fate that awaits every maiden bearing the Bathory name.

Empousa left them in the castle, perhaps saying: let the past rest in yesterday's embrace.