Eternal Thirst: A Newborn's Odyssey[Twilight Movie/Xianxia World Crossover]

[TheGoondload52]

Elias burst out of the emptiness, slamming hard against the rough stone of a mountain peak, like a rock hurled across a stormy sea. For a human, it would've been the end—bones shattered, life gone in an instant. But Elias wasn't human anymore. As a newborn vampire straight from Victoria's chaotic army, the impact was nothing more than a jolt. No pain, no damage. His skin, unbreakable as diamond and pale as moonlight, didn't even scratch. He rose quickly, shaking off the haze in his mind, his crimson eyes narrowing through the whipping wind and relentless rain. A flash of lightning split the sky, casting the world in harsh shadows for a heartbeat—jagged cliffs dropping away, mists twisting like living things below.



Where was he? The memory hit him sharp: back in Seattle's hidden corners, Riley shouting orders, the other newborns snarling and clashing, all fueled by Victoria's fiery vows of revenge on the Cullens—those perfect, glittering vampires who thought they were better than everyone. Elias had been turned only recently, his old human life a foggy blur of faces he couldn't quite recall and regrets that faded like dreams. Now, that world had vanished. Just like that. In its place was this chaotic storm, this unknown land. The air hummed with something strange, like the charge before thunder, but it sank deeper, prickling his enhanced senses and setting him on edge. He could almost hear it—a low vibration in the gusts, the downpour, even the earth beneath his feet. It wove through everything, invisible strands of power that teased him but stayed just out of reach.



Then the thirst crashed over him, a searing burn in his throat. Newborns were always ravenous, always on the verge of fury, but this felt sharper, more demanding. He needed blood—now. His fangs lengthened slightly as he scanned the horizon. No distant city lights, no hint of human scent on the wind. Just the raw aroma of wet earth, rain, and something primal, alive in a way he'd never encountered. Elias leaped down the slope, his powerful legs carrying him in massive bounds, covering ground like it was nothing. The wind tore at his tattered clothes—the same jeans and shirt from his army days—but the cold meant nothing to him. Vampires were the cold.



As he descended, the stark rocks gave way to a thick forest, trees rising like ancient giants with trunks broader than any he'd seen. Their leaves shimmered faintly, threaded with pulsing blue veins that made them seem almost breathing. This wasn't his world—not by a long shot. The ground softened underfoot, mossy and yielding, but his steps left no trace; he moved with the silent grace of a predator. A deep roar echoed from the depths of the woods, rumbling through the branches. Elias froze, his senses flaring. Heartbeats—strong, rhythmic, not human but animal. Prey.



In a blur of motion too fast for ordinary eyes, he surged forward. Ahead lay a clearing, soaked in rain, where a herd of strange creatures grazed. They resembled deer, but larger, their silver coats taut over rippling muscles, antlers crackling with blue sparks. One raised its head, nostrils flaring—sensing him too late. Elias erupted into their midst, zeroing in on a doe straggling at the rear. His hands clamped down on her neck like iron, twisting with a sharp crack. She went limp, and he sank his fangs into the warmth without a second thought.



The blood rushed in, hot and metallic. It wasn't human—bitter, with an odd tang that buzzed on his tongue—but it doused the fire in his throat, easing the wild newborn rage enough for clarity. He drained her completely, her body withering in his grip. He dropped the carcass, wiping his mouth, his eyes dimming from their fierce red. But the herd didn't scatter. The massive stag, its antlers like charged rods, bellowed and charged, shaking the very leaves.



Elias sidestepped effortlessly, but the tips grazed his arm, unleashing a bolt that scorched his sleeve and sent a real jolt of pain through him—brief, but startling. Smoke rose from his skin, yet the wound sealed shut in moments, his regeneration as reliable as ever. "What the hell?" he muttered, more shocked than injured. These beasts hit hard, cloaked in that humming energy like some kind of barrier or strike. He felt it graze his senses, vibrant and potent, but it eluded him when he tried to pinpoint it, slipping away like mist.



The stag wheeled back, and Elias seized an antler, yanking with all his strength. The creature flipped, crashing to the ground with a thunderous impact. He pounced, fangs ready, but the others surged in, their antlers firing bolts like a barrage of arrows. He dodged and wove, the newborn fury rising hot inside him—the untamed madness that made his kind lethal in those early months. He struck out, his fist smashing into one's side, ribs crunching beneath the blow. A bolt struck his chest, staggering him, but he laughed—a low, savage sound. "Is that all?" He vaulted onto a buck's back, fangs piercing as it bucked wildly, the blood igniting his frenzy. Bodies accumulated: shattered antlers, singed fur, the earth churned to mud. The last one bolted, but he pursued in a flash, tackling it down and ending the fight. Silence returned, punctuated only by the steady rain.



He stood there, breathing heavily—not from exhaustion, since vampires never tired—but from the adrenaline surging through him. Elias eyed the slaughter. The animal blood had quenched his thirst, but that power they'd unleashed... he could still sense it lingering in the air, in the fallen forms, a faint vibration his keen hearing caught like a distant pulse. Frustrating—it was right there, yet utterly beyond his control. He sank onto a toppled log, letting the rain rinse away the gore. For the first time since arriving, he focused inward on that pervasive hum. It saturated everything: the trees, the soil, the mist itself. He heard its whisper, felt its prickle on his skin, but any mental reach for it failed—it dodged like an unfamiliar tongue.



The storm began to fade as he pressed on, the forest growing denser. Vines draped like heavy curtains, some recoiling as he neared, as though they detected his strangeness. Flowers unfurled in the dim light, their petals revealing rhythmic inner glows. He plucked one, crushing it— the juice shimmered faintly, tasteless but leaving a tingle on his tongue. Curiosity pulled him forward; instinct kept him vigilant. A slithering hiss drew his gaze up. From the canopy, serpents plummeted, their scales camouflaged against the bark, eyes glowing green. Sleek and deadly, they coiled with that same electric hum he could sense but not claim.



The first lashed out like a whip, aiming for his throat. Elias snatched it mid-strike, crushing until it burst. Venom dripped, hissing on his hand but doing no harm. More descended, a twisting ambush from every angle. One looped around his leg, squeezing with crushing force. He felt the strain, but his body held firm. He pried it free and retaliated, fangs sinking into scales. The blood was acrid and venomous, but his system purged it, the flavor echoing that elusive buzz.



The clash grew frenzied: strikes whipping, him evading and striking back. A tail slashed his face, drawing a fleeting line of blood that vanished almost instantly. He seized two, slamming them together, then flung another into a trunk. The largest—the queen—dived from above, fangs embedding in his shoulder. Agony flared as venom surged in, but his regeneration expelled it, the wound knitting shut. With a growl, he tore her loose and smashed her skull. The survivors fled or fell, leaving him amid a tangle of lifeless coils.



He shook off the encounter and ventured deeper. The forest unveiled more wonders: a stream aglow with fish whose scales twinkled like submerged stars. He observed them briefly, captivated, then scooped one up. It thrashed, but he drained it—the blood thin yet sufficient, though the energy remained a taunting whisper, a scent carried away on the breeze. Ruins emerged next—ancient stones overgrown with vines, pillars etched with faded carvings of robed figures locked in combat with bizarre creatures, towering edifices in the background. His fingers traced the grooves, the hum intensifying like remnants of long-lost power. It sparked curiosity and caution in him, offering no revelations, only the weight of buried secrets. This world felt timeless, steeped in untold histories, and he was merely an outsider stumbling through.



Night fell completely, twin moons bathing the landscape in ethereal silver through cloud breaks. Elias scaled a massive tree, its limbs like broad pathways, and perched high to take stock. The forest extended without end, yet it thinned toward open plains ahead. Distant glimmers—perhaps fires—hinted at life. Faint human scents drifted on the wind, rekindling his thirst. He suppressed it; charging in blindly could be fatal if the inhabitants wielded that same power as the beasts. Instead, he attuned to the hum, probing it with his senses alone. It was like overhearing dialogue in a foreign language—fascinating, yet meaningless for now.



Dawn arrived with a deafening roar that rattled the tree. Below, a colossal form barreled through the brush—a boar clad in gleaming armor, its tusks arcing with lightning. It detected him and rammed the trunk, the collision sending bark flying, though the tree endured. Elias leaped down lightly. The beast snorted, energy crackling around it like a brewing tempest, a shrill whine in his ears. It lunged; he evaded, his fist connecting with its side. The armor dented, but it pivoted, a tusk grazing his thigh—fabric ripped, skin intact. Bolts erupted from the tusks, one striking his arm and numbing it momentarily before sensation returned.



The battle stretched on, the boar's stamina rivaling his velocity. He weaved through blasts that charred nearby trees, retaliating with blows that fractured its plating. At last, he mounted its back, fangs delving into the neck. Blood flowed thick and tumultuous, slaking his thirst without granting access to the power. The boar thrashed, then collapsed. Elias drank fully, the thrill stemming solely from the victory.



Satisfied and watchful, he advanced to the forest's fringe. Expansive plains unfolded, a river meandering with an inner luminescence. In the distance, forms evoked buildings—signs of civilization. Yet he lingered in the shadows, observing. Patience was essential in this unfamiliar realm. The Azure Mist Domain sprawled before him, immense and enigmatic, brimming with potential—if he could one day seize that elusive energy.

 

[TheGoondload52]

Elias didn't stir from his hiding spot at the forest's edge for what seemed like an eternity, though the sun had only just crested the horizon. The dense thicket behind him felt like a protective barrier, the leaves still heavy with rainwater from the night, dripping steadily onto the mossy ground with soft, rhythmic plops that blended into the morning's quiet. He remained crouched low in the tall grasses, the blades swaying gently in the breeze and brushing against his arms like curious fingers. The plains unfolded before him, vast and open, a sea of green that felt dangerously exposed under the wide sky. The river snaked through it all, its course meandering and unhurried, the water's surface reflecting the light in an odd, almost ethereal shimmer—as if something beneath stirred with its own inner life. That hum persisted, a subtle vibration he couldn't ignore, coursing up from the earth into his legs, murmuring in the wind that tugged at his ragged clothes, even echoing faintly in the distant cries of unfamiliar birds. It pressed against his senses, alive and insistent, but every attempt to focus on it, to seize it mentally, ended in failure—it slipped away like water through clenched fists, leaving him more frustrated than before.

His eyes, still holding a faint crimson tint from the boar's blood, scanned the horizon with deliberate slowness. The indistinct shapes in the distance gradually resolved as the light strengthened: high walls constructed of dark, weathered stone, towers rising sharp and vigilant, roofs curved in unfamiliar, elegant arcs, flags dangling limp in the still air. Scents began to waft over on the shifting breeze—acrid smoke from cooking fires, the salty sharpness of human sweat, and beneath it, the warm, compelling pulse of blood flowing through living veins. The thirst twisted quietly in his gut, not yet a roar but a persistent ache, promising to build if left unattended. He suppressed it firmly. Rushing had never served him well back on Earth, when he was just an ordinary guy trying to scrape together a living, dodging bad decisions and worse luck. As a vampire, the stakes were higher—newborns driven by impulse often met quick, violent ends. Here, where even the wildlife wielded some inexplicable inner power, barreling into the unknown could be fatal. Better to wait, to observe, to piece together the rules of this strange place before making any moves.

The path traversing the plains was a rough, beaten trail of dirt, etched deep with ruts from countless wheels and hooves, leading directly toward those distant walls. A thin cloud of dust rose along it, signaling approaching traffic. Elias's enhanced vision cut through the haze effortlessly: three wagons, heavily laden with covered cargo, drawn by large, plodding beasts resembling oxen but with a smoother, more fluid gait, their hides catching the light in a subtle, unnatural sheen. Six riders accompanied them on sturdy, no-nonsense horses, while a handful of figures walked alongside in loose, flowing robes that billowed slightly in the wind. Voices drifted over faintly at first—snatches of casual conversation, a low laugh, a child's excited question cutting through the murmur.

He advanced cautiously, staying low to the ground, the grass parting silently under his weight without leaving a trace— one of the perks of his vampiric nature. The sun climbed higher, and his skin began that familiar prickle, the sparkle threatening to emerge and give him away. He cursed inwardly, pulling his tattered shirt tighter around himself, wishing for a cloak or anything to conceal it. He stuck to the scattered shadows cast by boulders and low shrubs, flanking the group at a safe distance, ensuring the wind blew toward him to mask his scent.

As he drew nearer, the voices clarified, offering a glimpse into the group's dynamics. The old man leading the way had a long white beard that swayed with his steady stride, his posture speaking of quiet authority earned over years. "We'll reach Eldoria by midday if we don't slack off," he said, his tone even but carrying an undercurrent of vigilance. "But keep your eyes open—these plains are a haven for bandits. They hit hard and fast on groups like ours."

The girl walking beside him, perhaps in her late teens, with hair tied back in a practical knot, rolled her eyes but kept her voice light. "Grandpa, you're being paranoid again. With the guards here, who'd even bother? They'd have to be idiots."

The old man—Li Wei, as Elias overheard later when someone addressed him—gave her a sidelong glance, not amused. "Li Mei, that's the kind of overconfidence that gets people killed. I've seen caravans just like this one ambushed and left for the vultures because they thought they were untouchable. Stay sharp, or you'll learn the hard way."

The group exuded a road-hardened caution: the riders were rough-edged men, their faces etched with old scars, hands resting casually but ready near their sword hilts—hired protection, the sort who'd seen their share of scraps. A woman in finer attire, her face partially obscured by a veil, stayed close to a burly guard whose eyes darted constantly, assessing every shadow. The wagons creaked under their burden, releasing whiffs of dried herbs, rolled textiles, and the metallic tang of tools or weapons.

Elias maintained his distance, content to observe for now. The hum felt more pronounced near them, like a gentle warmth emanating from their skin. He could detect subtle waves of it, stronger from the old man and the girl. One of the riders' swords emitted a low resonance when he adjusted it in its sheath, reminiscent of the energy in the forest creatures but tamed, controlled.

The caravan came to an abrupt halt, the old man raising a hand sharply. "Hold up. Does anyone else feel that shift in the air?"

One of the riders drew his blade with a soft, metallic whisper. "Yeah, it's too quiet all of a sudden. Trouble's brewing."

Elias flattened himself further into the grass, blending in. They weren't scanning his direction, but then the ground trembled with the approach of hooves. Bandits erupted over a nearby rise, a pack of twelve or so, their faces masked in grimy cloths, weapons raised as they charged with raw, aggressive whoops. The leader, a burly figure with a scar visible just above his mask, reined in his horse harshly and bellowed, "Stop right there, you sorry lot! This road's Iron Claw turf. Dump your cargo and valuables, and maybe we'll let you crawl away. Force our hand, and we'll strip you clean and leave your bones for the beasts!"


Li Wei muttered words under his breath, his palm beginning to glow with a soft blue light that built gradually, then he thrust it forward, sending a streak of energy that struck a bandit square in the chest, flipping him off his horse with a pained yell. The man hit the ground hard, rolling and pushing back up with a groan, clutching his side. "What the hell was that? You old coot, you just bought yourself a one-way ticket to the grave!"

Li Mei drew her blade in a fluid motion, stepping into the fray with firm footing, her sword whistling as she parried a downward slash and countered with a quick thrust that drew blood. Her attacker, a stocky bandit, staggered back, holding his wounded arm and spitting.

Elias remained hidden, taking in the chaos. These people weren't amateurs—they manipulated the hum with skill, shaping it into precise attacks. Not the raw, instinctual bursts from the animals, but calculated strikes, like extensions of their will. A bandit broke through the defensive line, heading straight for the veiled woman. Her guard, Huo Yan, roared and engaged him, but another raider slinked around from the blind side, knife poised for a lethal stab.

Elias saw the opportunity—not just for a feed, but for a foothold. Help them out, save the day, and maybe they'd be inclined to talk instead of fight. He burst from cover, a silent streak across the grass.

He reached the backstabber first, his arm snaking around the neck, hand clamping over the mouth to stifle any cry. The man thrashed desperately, but Elias's grip was unyielding—fangs pierced skin, blood flowing warm and thick, human at last. It was intoxicating after the animal slop, soothing the burn like a cool drink on a hot day, but he held back, taking only enough to render the man limp and unconscious. The bandit managed a muffled "You freak..." before slumping boneless.

He slipped back into the fray from the edges, striking swiftly—twisting an arm here with a sharp crack, disarming a sword there with a bend of metal. Li Mei twisted mid-fight, catching a glimpse of him. "There's someone else in this—on our side?"

Li Wei loosed another blue streak, his voice cutting through the noise. "Whoever you are, keep going! They're starting to falter!"

The bandits' ranks began to panic, men dropping to unseen blows, confusion spreading like wildfire. "What the hell is this? It's like a ghost's picking us off! Watch your backs, idiots!" one shouted, swinging his blade at empty air in frustration.

Elias pressed the advantage, weaving through the melee—a punch to a gut doubling a raider over with a wheeze, a twist bending a glowing sword like it was tin. One bandit turned on him, eyes wide with fear under the mask. "Who the fuck are you?

Elias's reply was a low growl. "Run while you can."

The leader, seeing his men thin out, spat a curse and called it. "Pull back! This job's gone to shit—we'll settle this later!"

The survivors wheeled their horses and bolted, kicking up a cloud of dust, hurling curses over their shoulders.

The caravan group lowered their weapons slowly, breaths coming ragged, checking each other for wounds—one rider clutching a slash on his arm, groaning as he tied it off with a strip of cloth. No fatalities on their side, but the close calls showed in bloodstained clothes and shaken expressions.

Li Wei swept the field with his eyes, wiping sweat from his brow, his palm still faintly glowing as he spotted Elias stepping fully into view. The elder tensed, body shifting slightly to keep distance, ready for whatever came next. "You. The one striking from the shadows. I don't sense any qi from you, but you fight with strength I've rarely seen. What's your name, and why help us? Strangers don't just jump in without reason."

Elias met the gaze steadily, keeping his voice calm, hands visible to show no threat. "Elias. No big reason—I saw you outnumbered, figured I'd even things up. No strings."

Li Mei sheathed her sword but kept her hand on the hilt, posture tense, eyes raking over him—taking in the pale skin, the torn clothes, the absence of any weapon. "Even things up? You're out here alone, no aura I can feel, moving faster than some Qi Gathering stage and even most in foundation stage. You hiding your cultivation, or are you something else?"

Feng Lan stayed back, her veil drawn tighter, whispering urgently to Huo Yan, who stepped forward, his blade loose in his grip but poised for action. "He looks like some vagrant, but fights like a savage. Could be a demonic cultivator, or one of those blood fiends from the outer wilds. They drain people to boost their power. Elder, this feels off—we can't let him get close."

Huo Yan nodded, his voice a rough rumble. "Agreed. But he helped us we'll fight out more about him but he one wrong step, and I'll end it quick."

Li Wei held silence for a moment, his face a mask of careful thought—protecting his own, weighing risks in a world where mistakes cost lives. "You could've let the bandits soften us up, then taken the spoils yourself. Didn't. That's worth something. But we're not naive. I'm Li Wei, elder of the Jade Stream Sect. Li Mei here's family; these Iron Blade guards are our muscle; Lady Feng Lan and Huo Yan her shadow. Heading to Eldoria. If you're not a threat, walk with us—but we'll be watching. Make a misstep, and we'll end your life.."

Elias gave a short nod. "Fair enough."

They reformed the line and moved on, placing Elias in the middle with guards close on either side. The tension hung heavy, like a storm cloud that wouldn't break—few words exchanged, glances shot his way when they thought he wasn't looking. They passed around water skins and dry rations; Elias took a sip and chewed a bit for show, the food tasting like sawdust, his stomach turning at the thought of it.

After a stretch of silent walking, Li Wei broke the quiet, his tone casual but probing. "So, Elias, where you hail from? Don't see many out in the wilds without some qi to their name."

Elias kept it vague, shrugging. "From far away. Got lost along the way."

Li Mei glanced over, her expression skeptical. "Far away? Like outside the domain?"

"Yes far away"

"Like how far way"

"You wouldn't know it."

"Try me"

"You wouldn't know it so it doesn't make sense to tell you. I'll go scout a head"

Li wei sling abacked to Huo yan then siad said"He may be from far way or he is from a destroy province"

Huo Yan grunted from behind. "Or like he's feeding us a line. Keep sharp around him."

Feng Lan remained silent, but her posture stayed rigid, her guard never far.

The wariness didn't fade as they pressed on, the plains gradually giving way to more cultivated land—scattered farms, fields with workers bending over crops. Conversation stayed minimal—"Pass the water," or "Mind that pothole." Elias felt the eyes on him constantly, like an itch between his shoulder blades. These weren't naive travelers; they were people who'd likely seen betrayal, loss, the kind of hard lessons that made trust a rare commodity.

The gates rose up ahead, imposing slabs of stone etched with glowing symbols that made the hum buzz louder in his ears. The guards at the entrance, clad in leather armor with swords at their hips, gave the group a routine check but lingered on Elias. "This one's got no qi flow? Odd. Entry fee's double for mortals—city rules."

Li Wei dug out a small crystal that pulsed with light, handing it over without argument. "Taken care of. He's with our party."

The guard pocketed it, still eyeing Elias. "Alright, but if he causes issues, it's on you. We don't take kindly to blanks stirring things up."

Through the gates, Eldoria opened up—a bustling maze of streets packed with people, vendors shouting "Qi pills fresh from the furnace! Guarantee your breakthrough!"—cultivators sitting cross-legged in plazas, breathing deep with soft glows around their bodies. The smells hit hard: sizzling street food, burning incense, the thick press of bodies moving through the crowd.

Li Wei pointed to a sturdy building with a sign of a golden bird hanging above the door. "Golden Crane Inn. Grab a room there. If we need to talk more, we'll come find you. But keep your head down—the city's full of watchful eyes, and types like you draw the wrong kind of attention."

Elias took the advice, heading inside. The innkeeper, a plump woman with a sharp gaze, handed him a key after seeing Li Wei's coin. "No qi, eh? Just stay out of trouble—don't need any weirdness under my roof."

The room was small and plain—a bed with thin blankets, a table, a window overlooking the busy street below. Elias sat on the edge of the bed, staring out at the passing crowd. He had to find out more about this strange world.