Quinn

'I could have endured the endless night, had I never seen the blazing sun.'

All the world knows the Howling Peninsula as a forsaken realm, cast beyond daylight's reach.

She was born under that darkness, like the rest of her kin. She could've lived her life beneath the moon, untouched by light or hope. But then she read a book—foreign poetry, written by sunlit people. The verses glowed with a quiet longing, and something inside her shifted. She began to write. In secret. Songs of light. Dreams of warmth.

When those songs crossed six centuries to reach the future, her doubts were finally answered. That single reply felt like light piercing through the dark. Persecution. Flames of war. Betrayal... The Howling Peninsula's shadow runs deeper than its endless night. She resolved to shatter this prison of perpetual darkness and claim a dawn of her own.

What was it Quinn had said? A way to walk in sunlight?

The last time I felt the sun on my skin, I needed Sapphire Isle's alchemical shield just to survive it.

Though the Bloodborn were granted eternity, the light cast us out. The sun turned us into ghosts on our own land.

For me, maybe it doesn't matter anymore. But to many of our kind, sunlight is the one thing they still long for.

Quinn knew that. And that's what makes her promise so dangerous.

Through the name 'Quinn,' I swiftly traced a young woman in the family records—one who walked these halls three centuries past: Quinn Baphomet.

Curiously, her name was scratched out. No connections to the bloodline. Just a warning scrawled beside it in red: Traitor. Condemned for kinslaying and betraying the clan. A final decree remained: should her whereabouts surface, capture and execute without mercy.

A killer of her own blood. No wonder she never dared set foot near the castle.

Yet here she lurks, watching from the shadows with patient eyes...

But if she wants to approach the castle, I can use that to my advantage. Lure her in. Flush her out.

As promised, I arrived at the castle's side entrance when midnight's bell tolled. Naturally, I had not come alone as agreed—my guards crouched hidden in shadow's embrace, awaiting their moment to strike.

As night deepened its hold, I kept vigil upon the weathered stone steps. The moon sank behind twisted branches, yet she remained absent. Weariness crept through my bones until dreams claimed me.

In that dream, a young woman with pale crimson hair approached through the mist. I jolted awake, scanning the emptiness around me—finding only night's breath stirring, carrying the haunting fragrance of Wolfsbane.

Had Quinn been here? My hand moved instinctively to my pocket, fingers discovering an unfamiliar slip of paper. Unfolding it, I saw neat, elegant handwriting:

Bat shadows gather thick, companions to the ghostly night The moon's child gazes longingly from this shore The voyage through the stars stretches on, the promised land still distant Don't linger in dreams—go, seek the far shore of the soul

This was the verse Quinn had pledged to bestow upon me.

She had indeed come—slipping past while I lay vulnerable in slumber. Fearing she might have infiltrated the castle, I rushed back to investigate. Strangely, every chamber remained undisturbed.

Exile from the light is the Bloodborn's immutable fate. Yet Quinn refused to bow before destiny's decree. She had devoured too many hymns to daylight within forbidden poetry—yearning burned within her to walk beneath the sun as mortals do. Thus she sought Cain the steward's aid to forge this parasol of protection. Tragically, during that bitter conflict with her father, the parasol was lost within the castle's depths. For centuries it lay forgotten, never fulfilling its purpose, until...