[[Takes place six months after the main story. See the index in the first post for exact placement.]]

Shadowstep, part I

As the last light from the setting sun faded from the sky, a shadow disengaged from the crook between the branch and trunk of a massive oak and noiselessly dropped to the ground. It flitted across the space between the treeline and the mansion before pressing itself against the foundation. There, some of the shadows were pushed aside like the hood of a cloak.

Amber-gold eyes glowed in the thin expanse of blue-white skin that was exposed above the black leather bandanna that covered the lower part of her face and below the wisps of her now-short dark-brown hair. The shadows below her now-visible face and neck parted as her hands came into view, one pale hand disappearing for a moment under the black bandanna, the other gloved and holding several small spheres with wicks or fuses poking out of them. The bare hand reappeared, a drop of thick, almost tar-like blood welling from a small nick on her thumb, and she touched one of the fuses to the blood. The fuse sparked, and she tossed it through the window above her before running along the perimeter, igniting more of the little bombs and tossing them through each window she passed.

She could smell the thick, acrid smoke already leaking from the windows behind her and growing calls from inside. Some of the smoke bombs were located and thrown back outside, but she didn’t care; they had already served their purpose. The scent of the smoke would cling for hours inside the noses of all who smelled it – a handicap for creatures that rely heavily on their sense of smell.

As she pulled her hood back up over her face, there was a crash and the shattering of glass above her, and a dark figure dropped from one of the floors above and landed not far from her. She could plainly see the red hair that she knew belonged to her attacker. Half her brain snarled at her to attack, the other calmly reminding her to stick to the plan: if she did that, then she’d wipe out the entire nest in one stroke.

Before her murderer could turn around, she was already half-climbing, half-leaping up the side of the mansion, looking like nothing more than a deeper shadow gliding upwards. She slipped through the now-broken window and into the dark room beyond, then out into the hallway. Candles burned in sconces at irregular intervals, allowing her to – for the most part – easily remain hidden even as servants, their eyes empty and their necks and arms covered in swollen bite marks, rushed around in insect-like panic. And there he was. Standing at the top of the grand staircase, his back to her, as he watched with an expression of mild irritation as more servants milled below, locating the remaining smoke bombs and putting out the tiny fires the fuses had created where sparks had landed on dry and dusty curtains and carpets.

What a perfect set-up; she couldn’t have hoped for a better moment. She slid up one of the shadows that lay against the wall, knowing that the added height would transfer into force when she dropped to strike.

But it did not work out that way.

As she dropped from near the high ceiling, her shadowy cloak parted to reveal a woman of late twenties dressed in black and dark brown leather armor. In one hand, she held a long, thin blade that resembled a needle more than a dagger. In the other, an awful hook-pointed and sawtooth-edged knife; something that was designed to do little damage with the initial stab, but when pulled away would bring with it bits and pieces that people preferred to keep inside. But before either blade could touch the ponytailed vampire, she found herself being thrown back across the landing towards the wall, deflected by some unseen source. With a snarl, she pushed herself back off the wall, dropping her knives and resorting to a hold on the vampire.

“… A vampire slayer who is also a vampire.” Aaron sighed as his attacker arched backwards, pulling him into an uncomfortable position. “And so young, too. Where did you come from, little shadow?”

“Oh, I’ve been around for a while…” The woman’s voice was soft, musical, and slightly eerie; like loons calling on a lake. “The change of lifestyle is fairly new. Thankfully short-lived, though; as soon as you meet your final death, all those that came after you in your bloodline will join. Including me.” Keeping one arm firmly wrapped around Aaron’s neck, she reached back with the other to pull another needle-dagger from the sheath behind her shoulder.

Something heavy crashed into her, knocking her off balance. She was forced to let go of Aaron so she could roll back to her feet, and as she did she felt something thin and sharp gouge into her cheek, cutting flesh and tearing away the bandanna. As Aaron licked the blood from his fingers, Kirious stood back up, planted firmly between his uncle and the woman with a cold, cruel, and altogether gleeful smile on his face. A whispering sound from the corridor to her right alerted her to Kenjii’s arrival, and she frowned as she drew her cloak around her shoulders.

“… Damn. Ran out of time…” She jumped and did a back flip, her cloak closing around her body entirely as she hit the wall and merged with the shadow created by the banister, and zipped along its length until it joined with the shadows that ran out the open door below.

“Don’t.” Aaron stopped Kirious as he started to give chase. “You won’t catch her, and she’ll be back, to try this again. And when she does…” He paused, actually giving a little shiver of delight as he licked the last drops of her blood from his fingers. “… I want you to take her, alive. In the meantime… we should discuss where she came from. Someone was careless… and I think I know who.”

Son of Darkness: Act III - Reunions

The rustling sound coming from the fronds grew more and more muffled, as night thickened around them the more they approached the mansion, sneaking between the the gloomy, silent woods.

It didn't take too long for them to arrive before the estate, its heavy doors oddly spread open, as if inviting them in; the two men found the entrance hall in a much more devastated state than it had been ten years before. The painting had been burnt along with many other wooden furniture, and almost any type of glass they could see had been shattered or cracked, thrown all over the hall. Unable to conceive who or what could've caused that chaos, the Mayor and his guard started to explore the first floor of the house, surprised not to find the assumed inhabitants at that late hour.

Could they have been out to hunt? That lone thought caused their heartbeats to accelerate, as they advanced quickly in every room, walking over several obstacles, climbing up and down every stair. They arrived in a small abandoned office with shelves filled with dusty books; the only desk in the room was also covered by a thick layer of dust, and a couple of old times had been carefully placed on its right, along with several sheets of papers and fountain pens.

They passed the threshold, looking carefully around and covering each other's back, checking every crack, glancing at the windows facing the lugubrious forest covered in the darkness. The Mayor nodded to the other man and motioned with two fingers to follow him in back in the dark corridor; both continued to walk, spreading light over the walls with their lantern, pointing their guns behind every corner, anxiety overwhelming their hearts.

On the second floor, Roy opened a door to their left, revealing a small, nearly empty room, with no furniture but a bed and a drawer next to it. And when their gaze stopped over the blanket Peb's eyes widened, while he moved a step back.

Roy glanced at him and lifted the lantern further to shed light over the whole room, approaching the bed to touch the blanket; his fingers stained with blood. Fresh blood.

He turned to look at the Mayor, who was still staring with a pale face. Roy cleaned his fingers over the black coat, throwing a glance around the room. - Peb, do you think this blood is…? - He trailed off, unable to finish the question.

He didn't even have the courage to ask whether that blood could be human or not. As an alchemist, he would've probably known better than Peb. And he didn't want to know. He watched the other man shake his head with his head low, as he exited the room as silent as a shadow, back in the corridor.

Roy watched him walk out of the lantern's range, and with a small sigh rushed to follow him, looking at the blankets one last time.

After passing by another couple of rooms, with their windows closed by heavy curtains made of black silk that almost made the walls look to be of the same color, as if light hadn't touched those rooms in centuries, they found themselves in a large atrium beneath a huge glass dome supported by a thin metal frame and pillars completely wrapped in ivy.

In the middle was a large circular pool made of marble, filled with crystal clear water, even though the four fountains that had once filled it, shaped in eight marble statues representing the celestial avatars of the legends, were currently spilling no water, and also covered in ivy leaves. Roy looked up in the transparent dome and noticed that the statues were all in the matching direction of the constellations around the pool. A true masterpiece.

There were a few nymphaea flowers and leaves on the water's surface, although the water was pretty clean. Roy doubted it had collected from rain over all those times. Someone was in there for sure.

Peb looked around, his lantern showing him the magnificence of that place. When they had first examined that mansion, ten years before, he and the others had only checked the surroundings of the first floor; only his father had throughly checked the whole mansion. He was shocked in realizing the wealth of that lost family.

He turned his head to look at Roy, who was nervously looking around, as he put down his pistol at Shiva's feet to rummage in his pockets, looking for something. He pulled out a flask and opened it before gulping it down in one go without a word. He emptied the flask and took a deep breath, before closing it and putting it back in his shoulder bag, before retrieving the weapon.

Peb frowned. - What was that?

- Just an energy drink. - Roy didn't look at him. He picked up his own lantern from the floor and sighed, seemingly trying to drop the matter. - I couldn't sleep much last night. I'm fine.

Peb was reluctant on trusting those words. Roy was not fine. He hadn't been fine for over ten years now. His girlfriend's death had struck him hard, perhaps harder than anyone of the survived relatives of the vampire's victims. After those monsters had disappeared and he had lost an enemy to be hated, Roy had pretty much burned all bridges with his family and friends, spending all his time locked up in his house, sneaking outside just to go eat something at the pub, once a day. The local butcher and the grocer had said they hadn't seen him come to buy food in a very long time, with few exceptions in which he'd only come to get a few spices or very basic ingredients such as salt or water, although his sisters would keep trying to bring him something, only to see their supplies abandoned in the unused kitchen until they'd spoil enough to make him want to get rid of them.

The medicines Roy would make as an alchemist for the village's doctor stopped coming around the second year after the vampires advent. He seemed to be slowly letting himself die, and it was probably that what had pushed the Mayor in convincing him to join him as an apprentice hunter. Roy was still in his early thirties, a life far too young to go wasted. To channel Roy's grief on desire of revenge and make him focus on a specific target had slowly fueled his willpower again enough so that he'd at least keep himself healthy and clean, and although still spending most of his time alone in his house, a small, lively sparkle of determination had started to burn again in those young onyx-colored eyes.

He received a doubtful, fleeting glance from Peb before both of them took a deep breath and resumed walking in that big marble-floored atrium, their steps ominously echoing in the empty, silent darkness. They shortly arrived back to the lower floor, and there seemed to be nothing awaiting for them there, only thicker shadows of night.

After a long walk through the great corridors they arrived in another room, so big it could've hosted fifty people without a problem, if not more, filled with dusty shelves displaying countless volumes and books coming from all over the world, and a few couches in red worn cloth, with a dead chimney embedded in the northern wall. Probably the owner's library.

A shiver climbed up the Mayor's back as his gaze roamed over those many pieces of a past live coming from an age unknown. The many frames hanging to the walls displayed hunting scenes or some ancient ancestor's portrait, while a huge tapestry occupied most of the northern wall, above the chimney and between two big, open French doors from which, every now and then, came a feeble, cold breeze gently moving the dark curtains.

They left that room to explore the mansion's surroundings, nervousness growing more and more to oppress they hearts and souls. They moved towards the western side of the mansion, walking through the long corridor there; it seemed enveloped in a bubble of cold air. Small clouds of condensed air escaped from their lips as they breathed, the ominous feeling that had climbed over their spine from the moments they had arrived to that house's gates was intensifying, while they tried their best to keep panic away and maintain an alert, calm composure.

Suddenly, the torches to the sides of the corridor sparkled and lit with a blue-purpleish flash, spreading intense light around them. The two immediately shielded their eyes at that powerful light, feeling dazed.

- What… the hell… !? - Exclaimed Roy, shutting his eyelids to massage them, blinded.

The other man mimicked his actions, just as much stunned. He lowered both the lantern and his head, blinking several times to help his eyes get used to that violent light, filled with such a strong energy that had struck them like a lightning, instantaneously; he rested his back against the right wall and allowed himself a moment of rest.

- You're okay, Peb? - He heard Roy asking, and he shook his head frantically, looking up at him.

- I could be better. - He replied, opening the lantern's shutter to turn it off, its light now useless. - We've wasted enough time here, let's go.

Roy just nodded, and followed him in that corridor, the blue fire in the torches dancing and creating sinister shadows on the walls, painting them with an azure hue. After several minutes they exited in a wide room, filled with darkness except for the only one light coming from behind them. They moved a few steps forward, leaning over the railings, looking down the hall below, completely dark. Only to the left side was a small sparkling fireplace, spreading a circle of orange light that seemed to be warming up that grave-like state the room was enveloped in.

Over there, unlike the other rooms they had explored earlier, was a completely chaotic scenery; the spiral staircases to both sides of the railings they were facing from, going down to the hall below, were filled with shards of glass and wood, probably coming from tables and chairs. Cautiously, making sure not to trip on anything, they walked downstairs, observing carefully every detail, running their gazes over the disaster surrounding them; they jumped as they found a corpse laying to the floor, and they moved to look over at an upside-down piano.

And right there, wrapped in a dark mantle barely lighted by the chimney's flames, they saw him.

He was convulsively tightening his arms to the chest, rocking back and forth endlessly, his low voice murmuring a string of words belonging to a language they couldn't understand. Suddenly he fell quiet and stopped, slowly turning his head in their direction with a strange, bitter smile pursing his livid lips.

- Peb… - He whispered languidly, with a cadaverous voice. - Peb… You came to take me, at last.

The two observed him with pale faces; his face had gentle, but firm traits, of a beauty and youth only a curse could've granted him throughout that decade, framed by silky locks of dark brown eyes that had been collected back in his usual braid. His canines, sharp and white, were shining ominously under his livid upper lip to the light of fire; his eyes had lost any light, completely dark, staring at them motionless and empty.

- Mirror. - Said Peb in a low whisper, gulping and daring a few steps. - Do.. do you recognize me, now? - He asked, well aware his was a rhetorical question.

But when those lips pulled in an emotionless smile, revealed his fangs even more, he was quickly jerked backwards by Roy. He glanced at them, startled, and watched him pulling out a silver embled of the Goddess, the one they had made sure to bless in the Church before leaving.

- Don't move, Peb. - He intimated, approaching the vampire. He knelt down, the emblem held up before him; at that sight, the brown-haired creature withdrawn with a yelp, much like a scared dog. His eyes dilated and his nostrils seemed to be spasmodically smelling the air, as if he was sensing something repulsing surrounding him. Maybe because of the emblem, or because of what had to be holy water now dropping on his arm's skin, sizzling, the priest let out a piercing hiss, like a dying animal.

Why did that emblem take effect on him? He remembered quote well of how that had had no effect on the vampire named Kenjii… Was it because he had yet to complete his transition? Was that even possible?

He retrieved some relief only when the man lowered the emblem, and he watched the black-haired boy glance behind, looking in Peb's gray-blue irids, who was staring at the whole scene with a shocked, troubled look. He immediately approached, placing one hand over Roy's shoulder.

- Don't hurt him, Roy… - He whispered, looking at the priest. - …He seems confused.

The other slowly pulled his hand away, shaking his head. - Confused or not, we cannot make a gamble on this. - He murmured, with a long sigh. - You did say he's no longer human, when we were coming up here, no?

He brought one hand to his belt, ready to pull out the pistol loaded with silver bullets, but stiffened when, once again, the Mayor's hand rested on his shoulder.

- You can't point-blank shoot him down. - He said in a low tone, feeling the dark brown eyes of the priest watching him.

- Peb, think straight. - He kept going, putting the emblem away. - Vampires are undead, no? - He heard him gulp loudly. - How many hopes do you think you have to bring your brother back to who he was?

Silence filled the room for a little time. Only their feeble breathing, along with the much more nervous one of the priest, still gripping the black cape around him, his chest rising and dropping as if his heart was about to explode. Only one shared thought filling the room. To kill or wait?

They also didn't understand why that house seemed to be empty, why they couldn't find any of the vampires that had lived in there for who knows how many years. Why weren't they taking the chance to kill them in their lair, when they had returned after so many years? What were those monsters waiting for?

The situation was more complex than how it once had been.

Then the Mayor sighed with an upset expression, abandoning his reasoning.

- I don't know, Roy. - He whispered anxiously. - I really don't know. - He looked at him, his washed-out blue eyes seemed to be showing a pleading expression. - But please try to understand. Would you have the courage to just let one from your family go in such a state?

Those words seemed to strike hard in the black-haired's heart, as his eyes widened. His irids, so dark they blended with the pupils, narrowed in two minuscule dots, and he lowered his gaze, unable to bear Peb's any longer.

No, he wouldn't have been able to let them go.

He hadn't been able to let her go. In a way that Peb could've never imagined.

Even now he'd dream of the terrible day he had lost his girlfriend. He had been planning to propose to her the next month, during his birthday, had she not died at hand of those creatures. He could understand all too well the grief Peb Renford was going through at the idea of abandoning that priest, that priest who had been much like a brother despite the complete lack of blood bounds between them. But could they have risked that much, endangering the whole village?

- I understand how you feel Peb, but… - He said slowly, feeling uneasy. - We shouldn't..

- Peb. - The priest's voice interrupted Roy, and they watched his dark gaze staring at his friend with dilated irids. - I beg you, take me away from here.

The two looked at him in disbelief. He was different from how the Mayor had seen him in the street, so quiet and emotionless, like a puppet in his master' hands. Now, instead, he was almost all too similar to the friend and brother he had learned to know. What could that mean? Could there still be an human side in him? Was that even possible?

The priest knelt down, looking up at him, his face now a mask of pure terror.

- Take me away before I am not myself anymore. - He whispered, spasmodically gripping his cold hands on the man's coat. - I beg you.

Wincing at that contact for a reason he couldn't quite classify, the Mayor lifted the priest's face with shaky hands, his blue gaze meeting the vacuous dark brown one.

- What do you mean? - He asked in confusion, clearing his throat. - What do you mean … yourself?

The young vampire looked down, afraid. He seemed to be searching for words to explain. But explain what, exactly?

- I'm trying. - He said feebly, panting. - I've been trying for ten years… to fight, but… - His hands let the coat go, to go hold his head, who started to pulse and he shook it frantically. - I can't do it, Peb! I can't do it! It's… It's too powerful!

The Mayor looked at him askance before taking a deep breath, glancing at Roy, who had stepped back, one hand still to his belt. Focusing back on the priest, he knelt down to him.

- Can you walk? - He asked with a low voice.

The brown-haired man slowly nodded without a word, placing both his hands on the floor to retrieve balance. Once standing, he moved some hesitant step, as if checking whether his legs would obey or not, and once he was able to he followed the other two upstairs, ignoring the chaos he had created himself, enveloped in a strange cold air that seemed to irradiate from his own body.

Silence accompanied them during their walk across the long lit corridor with the torches, the braided man squeezing more and more in that cape hiding his body, covered just with light black pants and a white shirt, glancing around anxiously as if fearing to be watched on. He gasped when he felt his friend gently resting an arm around his waist, and unwillingly he bared his white fangs, letting out a low snarl.

Peb quickly stepped back and Roy pulled out his gun to point it at the priest's head, who had realized his actions and had widened his eyes in shock, lowering his head, rubbing his hands on his arms in a bizarre attempt to comfort himself.

- I'm… I'm sorry, Peb…. I'm really sorry. - Whispered the priest, looking up at the two men now walking next to him, while keeping a safe distance. - Just… don't touch me, please…

Hesitantly, and nodding to his friend to lower the gun, the Mayor moved a step towards the priest and, carefully, reached out to touch his shoulder, feeling him gasp again.

- Don't worry, Mirror. - He whispered, his voice cracked with grief. - We'll fix everything, you'll see.

At those words, he received an absent glance from the priest, who nodded slowly, barely breathing through his parted lips, and lowered his head, squeezing more in the mantle.

- Taing cuidich, Peb [1]. - He murmured in the same language he had used that night ten years before, the night he had died and… come back to life as a vampire.

Peb felt his heart in a grip at that sight, and he closed his eyes, with a surrendered look. He opened them again, staring in his friend's pale face, gaining meanwhile a confused glance from the other man, who seemed to not believe in what they told each other, judging by skeptical expression. But he didn't speak, and just followed Peb and the priest through the halls they had already visited beforehand, sensing the vampire eyes pointed on him, as if the priest had clung on him with an invisible cold cloud.

Why did he have that bad feeling? What was hiding behind those soulless brown pools staring at him? The more he thought about it, the more he was afraid to know the answer. Nervously, he pulled out another flask from his shoulder bag, and downed it in one go to let the self-made drug loosen the tension and tiredness twisting his muscles.

Once again he felt the priest's eyes on himself, and after putting down the flask, he glanced at him, nothing his dark empty eyes staring at the empty glass in his hand, his nostrils dilated were smelling it. Roy cleared his throat, looking away. Those blank eyes felt constraining to look at.

Soon enough they exited the mansion, carrying the priest in the quiet darkness of the forest, observed by two figures smiling figures as they walked away. They were outside, on one of the balconies, the cold breeze playfully swaying their hair.

One of them was absently looking at his own hand, unlike the other, whose gaze was low but absolutely focused; he wouldn't lose track of his sweet treasure, now in the hands of their prey.

- Splendid. - Said the younger voice, sarcastically amused. - That double personality of his may actually reveal to be of some use, it seems.

The other figure chuckled. A small chuckle, almost lugubrious that seemed to echo into the forest. - In a way, it is good that my poison works like this. - He slowly murmured, his blue eyes staring in the underwood.

- A way like another to approach our target, no? - Asked the other, moving a step to lean against the railing.

- Mhm. - Whispered the other. Then he looked at the red-haired vampire with irony, before looking back at the trees behind him. The younger brother observed him for a bit, arching an eyebrow.

- Why didn't we just kill him now? He was in our grasp. - He pointed out, disappointed.

He caused another weak, sinister laughter. - Revenge, as our uncle taught us, is a dish best served cold. - He slowly scanned him, watching his confident stance.

Kirious's eyebrow arched more and he lifted his chin, annoyed by such attention. - And since when do you follow his teachings? - He snapped, glancing at the smile that had formed over Kenjii's lips. A lascivious smile that promised nothing good, and that he hated to receive. His cursed brother should've saved that for his beloved priest.

- When it suits be, for example. - He said calmly and pleasantly as if they were discussing about the nice weather.

That statement only made him frown more. - What are you scheming? - He said, curious and vaguely surprised.

The rustle of the trees and a lightning in the sky caught his attention, and he smelled the air, adverting humidity in the air; his brother was planning something he wouldn't have liked.

- Are you sure you can't figure it out, Kirious? - He whispered slyly.

Was that a shiver climbing up his back? Kirious couldn't believe it. What he couldn't understand though, was whether it had been a shiver of fear or one of excitement at the idea that had formed in his head watching his brother smiling.

- You're thinking about that folly again, aren't you? - He asked. He hated how is tone didn't quite hide his worry. Not well at all.

- Do you really prefer to keep submitting to him? - Asked back Kenjii, narrowing eyes at him with pleasure, obviously enjoying the double-meaning in that question. Kirious snarled, opening his mouth and shutting it, as if words, insults, anything wouldn't have been enough.

The red-haired's rancor was so deep, the air around them seemed to have frozen, wrapped in the darkness encircling them.

- You realize he has gathered the others, right? - He spat, hissing.

Back in life, three hundred years past, they had been inseparable brothers. Things had quickly degenerated once they had become vampires. Only every now and then they would sense again that affinity that had once united them, but it was rather rare.

- I know what he's done, and I'm counting on that too… - Kenjii confessed, leaning both hands on the railing, that covered in ice. - … They will never turn against me.

- Nor against him. - Pointed out Kirious, stepping away from the railing.

Kenjii looked at him without any trace of enthusiasm, bringing two fingers to his own lips. He seemed in thought, pondering on those words. - That is true, but who knows. - With a wide, impudent smile he looked back in the woods.

Kirious clenched his teeth, and approached to peer at him with narrowed eyes, whispering in his ear. - What do you think you can achieve like this, mo bhràthair? - He said with a trace of anxiety that perhaps concealed an intrigued excitement.

Kenjii pursed his lips briefly, looking down at the icy railing, shining in the weak light piercing the clouds over them. - Had we not become what we are, I would've been a Laird in our uncle's stead, and I would've lived as a common human being… - He sighed sadly. - … With who I loved to my side.

His eyes mirrored in the shards of ice that he caused to explode with his willpower, making them whirl gently, slowly around him.

- Instead, look at what I've gained… an ephemeral eternity as the head of an army of vampires. Talk about pipe dreams, huh? - He concluded, bitterly.

The power he had emanated slowly faded, and the shards of ice fell to his feet in a rain of dust that whitened the floor.

- We can only keep going like this. - He resumed, observing his silent brother with narrowed eyes. - Even though often times I feel the urge to expose myself to the light of Dawn just to smell my burning body.

- You've got to be kidding. - Said Kirious seriously. He received a glare that had a glimpse of insanity in it.

- For now, I am. - He chuckled, his lips smiling slyly. - A true pity we can't go around in the sunlight like our uncle. - He let out a cadaverous sigh. - We can only endure the final hour of dusk, before the endless night comes.

- Stop talking like a depressed poet, mo bhràthair. - Whispered Kirious. - We can't go back anymore.

There were moments of silence before Kenjii chuckled. - Alea iacta est [2], right? - He said in the ancient language, looking at him. - But, if you could just choose, Kirious, wouldn't you like to go back to how we were?

His brother frowned in a confused way he had hardly ever shown, staying quiet for a while. To go back to when… they were human?

He would've liked that, sure. But he knew that wasn't possible. And thinking about it, those powers weren't so bad… He had all the time he wanted. All what bugged him was to be restrained by the daylight and his uncle's will.

- Yes, perhaps. - He confessed, with a theatrical sad tone. - But I'm tired of digging up the past.

A sigh escaped his older brother's lips. - Yeah, enough of that. - He murmured.

Once again, in the cold of that night, silence fell upon the two brothers, ominously dominating the balcony; they'd only exchange a knowing glance every now and then, with spare joyless sighs or smiles as they kept thinking of the past, rain slowly starting to fall on their heads.

Then, behind them, much like a ghost appeared their uncle's figure, accompanied by one of his vampires. He approached him quietly, observing him.

- I hope you know what you're doing, Kenjii. - He said, with his usual calm voice. He seemed, luckily, to not have heard a single word of their previous talk.

The young one's lips pulled in a joyless smile. - Do not worry, uncle. I have a good plan. - He whispered.

And his plan, there and then, seemed perfect.

He would've put an end to it all, at last.

After what he had told to his brother Kirious, he was even more determined to end that useless situation.

- But it seems that the new Mayor and that friend of his know a few tricks that could be useful to them. - Said his uncle, and his voice slightly lowered. - And you know we're short on time.

Kenjii turned, running his blue gaze over the pale face of his uncle and his companion. He received a glance from him, and he could only smile more. He would've been the first to jump to his side.

- I am well aware, uncle, but I am not a fool. - He said, before pausing for a second, as if tasting something unknown. - Do not forget the promise you've granted me; I'll take care of the rest.

A small chuckle arouse from Aaron's chest. - How to forget, such a promise? - He murmured, falsely honeyed. - But you will receive nothing, if things will not go as I want.

- I've told you well, my plan is fail-proof… I rely on his thirst of blood. - His merciless smile almost contrasted with his face. - The smell will overwhelm him… He will give up.

- Do you really believe they will take him to the village? - Asked his brother.

Kenjii glanced at him, before staring back into the underwood below. - Not exactly. - He replied steadily. - It's much more likely that they'll first take him in a consecrated ground.

- In his Church?

- Yes. - He bust into a laughed, something uncommon of him. - For now I shall keep an eye on him, I'll see where they'll take him after that.

The other three vampires, unable to understand his scheme, looked at him as if trying to catch something they had missed.

The green eyes of one looked at his master's face, before watching his nephew's back, his dark chestnut hair slightly moving in the wind. - And then, my lord? - He asked, as no one else would.

Their gazes fused together as Kenjii turned, and as they saw him smile, the air surrounding them seemed to lose all the oxygen within, becoming heavy and dense, almost like oil.

- If things go as I say, we'll have one of them in their lair. - He murmured, enjoying the amazed look painted in the green eyes, almost hidden by the thick blond fringe.

The older vampire smiled in satisfaction at those words, ignoring his nephew's real intentions, not even paying attention to his servant, who seemed to instead have at least a vague idea of what the blue-eyed young boy had in mind.

Aaron turned slowly to head towards the library of the mansion, heading to the reunion still taking place with those of his own kind.

- Perfect.

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[1] Thanks (for the) help, Peb (Bastokan)
[2] The die is cast.

Shadowstep, part II

It was well past midnight, and still the twin funeral pyres burned brightly. Micah had sent Aiden to bed along with his own daughter hours ago, and the very last of the spectators had finally been dragged away by sympathetic friends. Not many in the village were familiar with the practice of cremating the dead, and his cousin’s boyfriend had been horrified when he learned what Micah was planning for after the funeral service.

“In our country, we burn our dead.” Micah had tried to explain to the grief-stricken man

“You’re not in your country anymore!” Roy practically screamed.

Micah had sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. Of them all, he had struggled the most to learn the local language. “I do not do this out of… spite? Disregard for you? If there were… ah… draenenwen… heartsthorn? bushes here, I would have used them to help bury her as you would wish.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Bitten. A drop of blood from the ones that bit them would bring them back. Fire purges the curse. Heartsthorn emits purity. Our country had history of vampires; this is how we stopped them.” Micah paused, then sniffed in distaste. “A pyre has more dignity than mutilation of the dead.”

That was something that had chafed him. There had been six of them when they first arrived in the village years before. Himself and his sister, Malay, and four of their cousins: Sophia,
Maeve, Fand, and Sorane. They had left their home in a land far across the sea on a pilgrimage that was common with their family’s traditions. In the course of their traveling, Malay had become pregnant and they settled into the village with the intent of staying only until she had given birth and her son was weaned and walking. But before that time had come, Fand had also become pregnant, and soon after Micah himself was facing down fatherhood. While the sire of Malay’s son was not around (they had traveled nearly three months before she realized she was pregnant), both Cether and Tewyn had parents in the village, and as a whole they decided to not uproot the babies. They assimilated to village life, minus a handful of minor customs and belief systems from their homeland, and lived fairly happily there.

Then came the vampire attacks. Maeve’s body was one of the ones found after the first night, and the next night Fand, Cether, and Sorane were among the body count. Before he, Malay, or Sophia could intervene, their cousins were decapitated. Autopsy or mutilation of the dead was a taboo of their people that was only broken for the vilest of criminals – to further injure a corpse would prevent the dead from finding their way to the Goddess’ side. Micah had raged for days after he discovered the headless corpses, and it had only been the memory of the normally placid man’s towering anger and outrage that had stilled the villagers from treating Sophia and Malay’s corpses the same way.

The sky was just starting to show the first pearly signs of dawn when the flames gave their last flicker before dying out completely. Micah sighed as he ran his hand through his hair and flicked the short braid that hung from the back of his neck under the bulk of his hair back over his shoulder.

“… It’s done.” He murmured in his native tongue. “At least one of us will find our way to the Goddess’ side…”

Arms sleeved in black leather looped themselves around Micah’s chest. “We will have revenge, Brother. They will pay. Hunters ran in our family until the time of peace came, no?” In the shadows of the black hood covering her icy face and blue lips, Malay closed her eyes as she rested her head on her brother’s shoulder. For several long moments, the siblings stood like that, then Malay lifted her head, her eyes now more like amber than the gold hue that marked their bloodline, and tilted her head at the pyre that should have been hers. “… Where did you find the spare body?”

Micah chuckled darkly. “There was no body. I wrapped pumpkins and gourds in your death shroud.”

“That explains why everything smells like burned pie…”

“Malay.” Micah nearly growled. “Don’t bite me.”

She jerked her mouth back from Micah’s neck. “… Forgive me.”

“Go back to the cellar. Dawn will be here soon, and I will bring you what you need.”

–-


Malay crouched on a tree branch, idly prodding the fresh gash on her cheek, as she observed the cluster of cottages that once housed her and her family. It had been six months since she had been attacked, six months since her mind had raced ahead as fangs pierced her neck and made the split-second decision to struggle and draw blood from her attacker. In his frenzy, the vampire never noticed the nick or the palm-full of his blood that she had collected, and when townsfolk had come across the two of them, no-one noticed as she licked his blood from her hand, cursing herself.

Six months. Micah had already planted rose canes in the doorways of the now-empty cottages, and tender rose shoots were already beginning to claim the structures. Micah had the sorrowful task of returning with wife and daughter to their homeland across the sea, so that the ashes of the dead could be properly laid to rest. She had urged her brother to take her son with him, but the boy had become adamant about staying. The new mayor had offered to take him in, and while Malay was unhappy with the thought of Aiden staying and never knowing of the lands and family he came from, she wasn't in a position to assert her parental authority over him.

She was, after all, dead.

One Day More


The waterbag dropped into his lap abruptly, startling him out of his nap. Laughing gold eyes regarded him from above and behind his position.

“Tsk… sleeping on the job. The Mayor would tear strips from your hide if he found out.” She teased, her accent making her words sound almost lyrical.

Roy rubbed his eyes as he sat up and away from the rock he was sitting against. “Sleeping? Of course not. I was merely meditating on battle strategies.”

“Uh-huh.” Sophia hopped off the rock and landed next to him in a crouch, the end of the heavy boar-hunting spear digging into the dirt to help her maintain her balance. “One does not go into battle with wolves… you simply hope they do not outsmart you.”

Handing back the waterbag, Roy wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before tilting his head. “Aren’t you supposed to be on duty on the far side of the village?”

“I was. The watch is changing, and my replacement was early. I thought I’d come find you before your sisters manage to get ahold of you and hold you for ransom for the afternoon again.”

“Oho..? Is there…” He paused to give her a slow, suggestive smirk. “… something you want to do..?” He loved to tease her. She was absolutely adorable when she got flustered; he had long since accepted it as a trade for her holding off when it came to letting their relationship becoming more intimate. But when her face didn’t turn red and the shy, stuttered refusal didn’t come, Roy’s eyebrows shot up. “… Sophe?”

The faintest amount of pink touched her face. “… There’s… probably better places to discuss this than out here on the edge of a field… yes?”

Hours later, Roy yawned and stretched, then rolled over with a small frown when he realized he was alone in the bed. The spot next to him was still warm, though, and as he swept his eyes around the room he saw Sophia standing over the pile of her clothes and gear. One of her kukri-style knives was in her hand, and he watched as she put the knife to the back of her head and grimaced. One of the two braids that she normally wound around the front of her head in a natural headband to keep her bangs out of her eyes came away in her hand. She sighed slightly and shook her head, obviously noticing the difference in the weight of her hair, as she tied a strip of leather around the fresh end of the braid.

As she climbed back into the bed, Sophia jumped slightly when she realized that Roy was watching her.

“… Everything okay?” He gave her a concerned look.

“Mhm.” She kissed him before laying back down and cuddling up against his side.

He was just about to drift back to sleep when he felt her loop the braid around his wrist.

–-

Roy groaned as he sat up, his back and neck stiff from falling asleep over his research. He briefly contemplated on moving a cot down into the basement that had become his study and laboratory as he scratched at his stubbled chin. It was the same thought he had first thing every morning for the last five years.

And, just like the five previous years, the thought was quickly put out of mind as he glanced at the length of dark-brown braided hair carefully coiled on the tiny shelf above his desk. But unlike all the previous mornings… this time he looked at that braid with a glimmer of hope. Behind him on the floor, he knew the formulae and components were ready for him. Five years of research, of studying and endless calculations had brought him to this point. Today he would rest. Tomorrow… tomorrow would be the day.

–-

He couldn't see past the thick steam that engulfed the room. It was thick and cloying, and disturbingly smelled faintly of both overly raw and cooking meat. Something gurgled and hissed nearby, and something thick dripped as a low moan filled the room. Roy stood in frozen, a thousand horrors flashing though his mind, when something let out a weak cough. A moment later a new smell met his nose: something like apples and ocean waves, and raspberries warmed in the sun. Again a weak cough, and then the sound of something dragging along the floor.

A pale but normal hand emerged from the steam, groping across the floor. It was attached to a normal arm, which was in turn attached to a normal shoulder. The whiteness was dissipating, and slowly Roy could make out a perfectly normal, if pale and somewhat frail, body lying on the floor, breathing and shaking as it tried to pull away from clumps of random flesh that pulsed with a horrible parody of life at the far edges of the formulae. Slowly the head lifted, and terrified gold eyes stared up at Roy.

“… G-goddess… Roy… h-help me…”

–-

It was nearly dawn, and Roy was beyond tears as he continued to hold and rock Sophia’s body, his cheek pressed to her cold forehead. It wasn't fair. Not at all. To get her back after five years, only to have her quietly slip away again when her eyes closed to sleep that first night… someone out there had to be laughing at him for his arrogance.

At what point did it go wrong? Sophia seemed fine, thinner and paler than she should have been, but once the shock of being alive again wore off she seemed normal. She had even assured Roy that she was thin because muscle mass wasn't something one was born with, but developed over years, and that she’d darken up when she got back into the sun.

“I’m okay, really… this is probably how a baby feels after being born. I’m more worried about you; I can hear the air rattling your lungs…”

Everything considered, the day had gone well until sundown. Sophia’s eyes started to droop shut, and with an apologetic smile she let Roy carry her back to the bedroom and put her to bed.

“I’m really sorry… I don’t know why this is happening.”

Roy kissed her forehead before climbing into bed next to her. “It’s been a rough day. Get some sleep, tomorrow we’ll think about how we’re gonna break the news to the rest of the village.”

Sophia sighed, moving closer so she could rest her head on Roy’s chest as she closed her eyes. “… I love you…”

Roy smiled, and ran his hand through her hair. “I love you too.” He tilted her head up to kiss her on the lips, but her head rolled limply in his hand. “… Sophe?”

But Sophia’s heart had already stopped beating.

Son of Darkness: Act IV - Possible Solutions

The village, 889 C.E.

Outside, in every street of the small village, the citizens were busy decorating the buildings and street lamps with pine branches and wild flowers, their fragrance floating everywhere, mixing with the scent of the wine filling the tankards. The townsfolk were celebrating the return of their Mayor, finally back after five months of absence.

He had gotten rid of his bag, and was animatedly discussing with a few of them, talking about what he had seen and introducing them to the small kid he had adopted in Grauberg and who was gripping on his hand, looking around everywhere with a scared frown. He clenched on the man's coat, shaking. The Mayor looked down at him and gave him a sweet smile, to then bend down and pick him up, giving a polite nod to the men before him.

- If you'll excuse me now, gentlemen, I must go see my son. - He said kindly, waving a hand before heading towards the center of the village, heading to his home. It wasn't very lighted, and on the threshold was the housekeeper he had entrusted his son to, a bulky and somewhat strict woman with a heart of gold, waiting for him. Soon as she saw him, she gave him a bright smile, and bowed her head politely before stepping aside to let him go in.

- Welcome back, Mr. Renford. - She said, still smiling. - Peb will be happy to see you.

Then, she looked back up and pointed her attention on the kid in his arms; her smile grew. Although severe, she was a woman that loved children.

- Is that him? - She asked in amusement, watching the kid hide his face against the man's chest.

The Mayor chuckled, shifting the boy's weight on one arm before caressing his chocolate-brown hair that he had personally cut to a shoulder length the day before taking the ferry back home; he crossed the entrance to enter the living room.

- He's Mirror. - He said, pulling the kid slightly away to look at him. - She isn't going to hurt you, don't be afraid. - He laughed, and the child dared to towards the woman.

She had folded her arms on her breasts, and was now looking at him with an amused frown on her puffy pink face. Heartening himself, he gave her a shy smile. The man couldn't help but chuckle again, to then look at the woman before looking around carefully, as if tasting his return home.

- My son? - He asked, and she looked back at him, her arms falling limp on her sides as she chuckled as well.

- I believe he's in his room. - She informed him, glancing at the child's face again as the man put him down to sit on the couch. - I'll go call him.

Despite her massive size, in the blink of an eye the woman disappeared upstairs, and before she could walk back down, she was ran past by a child with strawberry blond hair who rushed in the living room yelling like a mad animal.

- Daddy! - He exclaimed with a big smile, leaping to hang to the man's neck. - I missed you!

The Mayor pulled him into an embrace, messing the kid's hair and kissing his forehead. - I missed you too, Peb. - He murmured, rubbing his nose again his. - Did you behave while I was away?

The kid lifted his chin and straightened his back, almost as if trying to mock his father, and slammed one hand against his own chest. - I always behave, even when you're home. - He informed his parent, who immediately laughed, amused at his son's innocence.

- That's right, you little man. - He said, ruffling his hair again. Then he crouched down to put him back down, smiling as he pushed his hood down, watching his son observing the small couch with a curious look. He also turned, even more amused. Kneeling next to Peb, he put one arm behind his shoulders, nodding to the other child to stand up and approach.

He bit his lower lip and hopped off the couch, hesitating as he approached the man, who ultimately sat down and pat his legs, inviting the children to sit over them. The two exchanged a look before complying.

- Peb, he is Mirror.

- Mario?

- Mirror. Like the looking-glass in your room.

Peb did a double take on the other kid, before looking back at his father. - But 'Mirror' is not a real name!

Mirror frowned, looking down with a sorry expression.

- It can be. Our neighbor's daughter is named Rose, but she's not a flower, no?

Peb looked up, contemplating the example, then nodded frantically.

The Mayor then looked at the younger child. - Mirror, this is Peb. - He said, as the two scanned each other, and gently pushed their backs to make them stand up before he did the same, dusting off his trousers. - Mirror doesn't talk our language much yet, but he understands it.

- Can I teach him that trick I can do with my spit?

The Mayor looked at his son's anxiously excited face, then at Mirror's much more worried and perplexed. - If he wants. And when I'm not watching you. - He said before ruffling both their hair, smiling at the curious expression on their faces, still carefully looking at each other. - I must go back to the town square for a moment. Don't fight, okay?

That said, he left them alone in the living room, standing before each other.

Peb, after the initial moment of curiosity, smiled brightly, his blue-gray eyes shining brightly behind the lenses. Mirror, on the other hand, was still intimidated, and took a step back, looking down.

- Do you want to be my baby brother? - Asked the other kid innocently, tilting his head and slightly flexing his knees to look under the brown-haired's fringe, as he blushed slightly.

He hesitantly looked up, meeting eyes with him. He opened his mouth, but reconsidered that, remembering what the man had said during their journey there: he mustn't speak that strange language. He forced himself to try and speak English as the Mayor had taught him during those few months together. Not remembering it perfectly, he then just nodded slightly, with a little smile. He immediately got the smile returned by the other child, who leaned towards him and took his hand to lead him outside.

- Is it true you can't speak English? - Asked Peb again, glancing at him as they walked around the small town, like tourists.

Mirror shook his head, frowning in concentration. He closed his eyes and reopened them, gripping tighter on the other kid's hand.

- I know, but… little. - He replied, almost satisfied at his own words. He received a small laughter from Peb, who stopped next to a bush growing at the center of the square, to turn back to him with a smile.

- My dad will teach you then. - He said, rather proudly. - He knows everything.

The gold-streaked eyes shown interest, as he observed him blinking. Once again, Peb's smile grew.

- How old are you? - He asked, grabbing his hand again. - I'm almost six. - He informed him as they continued walking through the village under several curious looks from the citizens busy decorating the town for that evening's celebration. Mirror tried hard to keep up to his pace, simultaneously struggling to speak the language the Mayor had taught him.

- Fur… Four. - He said, staying close to the other.

Another crystal, childish laughter came from Peb's lips, who slowed down his trotting so that the other could side with him. - Then I'm really older. - He giggled, tilting his head cheerfully.

The two continued to walk for a couple more minutes under the warmth of the noon sun, around those decorated streets filled with benches full of every kind of food, before arriving to the city borders, hand in hand, their faces looking up at the Church standing not too far from the village.

Peb looked at him with his blue-gray eyes, smiling yet again.

- I'll be the one to protect you from everything then, little brother.





They were now within the Ancient Abbey's walls, its many torches hanging to the walls were lighting the stone walls, the flames creating sinister shadows confusing sinuously in the sad orange light. Under tacit consent they had tied him to a chair with a thick rope, and now the tree were observing each other without a word, an oppressing air condensing in the vast stone floor between them.

During their journey, the Mayor had spent the whole time thinking of when they had met, of what he had told him that day so many years before, and couldn't help but feel worse than he could've ever thought.

He had said he would've protected him from everything, but he hadn't been able to.

He had never been able to, actually.

His friend had protected him instead, by going to that place ten years past. And that was a blame he couldn't make amend for.

He glanced at the priest, whose pupils kept darting between him and Roy, without a word. He couldn't understand what he was thinking or planning, his expression was still as empty as the one of a statue. Then, suddenly, his eyes stopped on the Mayor's face, before he'd pull his lips into a smile. He had the dark, vacuous gaze of someone who had given in to folly.

- I accepted to be tied up, Peb, but I'm getting a little thirsty. - He said, perhaps unconsciously, widening his smile into a full smirk, letting his fangs shine between his lips.

A strange shiver ran down the Mayor's back at those words. He looked away to glance at Roy in confusion; he was keeping his head between his hands, perhaps trying to figure out a solution to that whole mess himself. But he could see him tremble, eager to shoot and put an end to it.

- Did you hear me, mister Mayor? - Asked the brown-haired man, with a sarcastic, amused tone, with marked irony as he spoke the title he had inherited from his father.

- Do you remember what you told me in that mansion, Mirror? - He asked instead, looking up to stare intently at his lips. He knew all too well one mustn't look into a vampire's eyes.

Perhaps surprised, he blinked, as if he hadn't understood. Then he tilted his head backwards, bursting into a loud laughter that echoed against the stone walls, in the great hall and in their minds.

- I've never said a thing! - He laughed. - I don't even know what I'm doing in this hellhole, to be honest!

The two men looked at each other, confused. Even his voice sounded different, at least one octave louder. They watched him look around as if looking for someone, his tongue spiring from time to time between his lips, much like a snake tasting the air. His attention then focused back on them, his eyes ominously shining.

- I have no idea what you're plotting, but… - He shook his head slightly, and his long bangs gracefully swayed with his movements. - … You're just wasting your time.

The Mayor's face grew pale, at those words.

- This isn't you talking, Mirror. They've subjugated you. - He whispered, intimidated by the strange light he could see in those dark pools. - You will return to be as you were, I swear it.

He only managed to make him laugh more.

- Make me return to be as I was? - He said with irony, arching an eyebrow. - Pray tell, Mayor, how was I?

He wasn't even calling him by name anymore. Even his eyes were as blank as his face.

- You can't have forgotten your life, or at least of what you've told me a few hours ago. - Peb tried, his voice as pleading as he could.

Vacuously, the vampire looked at him, then he moved his attention on the flames sparkling against the stone walls, as if they were much more interesting than him.

- My life was… - He repeated in thought, touchings his lower lip with his tongue. - Now that I think about it, Mayor, I don't think I've ever had a life.

- What are you saying, Mirror?

Another quick glance, a sparkle in those dark eyes.

- Sacrifices and renounces. - He murmured unconsciously. - Sacrifices and renounces, yeah. A life that wasn't a life, spent in the little Church of a village without even experiencing the pleasures of the flesh, and before then? A childhood without any knowledge of who had given birth of him nor of where he came from. - He continued with his head low, before quickly pointing his gaze on the Mayor's face. - Doesn't look like he had quite a fun time, this priest.

Was that way of talking intended? Or was it like somebody else was in that body?

That was what Peb wondered as he kept staring at him in shock. He stood up to approach him slightly, keeping one hand to his belt to be safe. It was best to stay ready in such circumstances, one could never know. Who could tell if he'd be able to sneak free out of those ropes holding him tied?

- I don't know what you're talking about. - Stuttered Peb, visibly nervous. - You were the one to choose the path of the Goddess, Mirror. She was your Devotion. Did you forget that too?

Another laughter arouse from the vampire's chest, his dark topaz eyes staring at him, shining with something he had never seen before. - I know myself well enough to assure you I would've never done it, Mayor. - He replied, with a cordial frown that made him look almost belonging to a different age.

Even Roy, who had kept quiet until then, was staring at him in perplexity. He looked at the snake-like movements that tongue was doing to caress the livid lips, his body flexing as if preparing to strike, impeded by the ropes that kept him well pinned to the chair.

- Give up, then, whatever you've got in mind. Soon enough he, my real Devotion, will come to take me… - He murmured softly, with absolute pleasure, licking his lips again an unconsciously erotic gesture. - …Yes, to take me. He likes to do that a lot. And I take him too. - His eyes darted to look at Roy's disgusted expression, and narrowed in sly pleasure. - Probably more often than you've taken any of your many women, Roy. Tell me, who are you screwing nowadays? Your sister Felicia, perhaps?

The black-haired man twitched, narrowing eyes. He felt his hands clenching into fists, but he kept staring straight at the vampire. He wouldn't have let him win that pitiful attempt of intimidation.

The vampire's look switched to a sorry frown of sympathy. - Ohhh… - He sighed, as if moved by the sight of something powerless and cute, like an injured puppy. - Don't tell me… You haven't bedded anyone else since after her? You poor thing… - He chuckled, smirking. - What's your problem? Can't get your junk to work right anymore?

Peb looked at his guard. - Roy…! Don't…

At those words Roy retrieved the emblem from the small desk approaching the priest with wide strides, and the vampire immediately snarled at the sight of the silver relic, his body twisting, trying to get free.

- It's hilarious! - He continued while wriggling. - These ten years I've spent drowning in lust, you've spent them in complete chastity. Perhaps you should be the new priest, Mustang! - He laughed. - Oh, wait.. That's right. Altana doesn't open her path to … heretics.

The black-haired alchemist pulled out his gun, pointing it straight at the priest's head, while his gaze was still straight on the Goddess's emblem. He was hissing like an angry cat, rubbing his arms against the ropes.

- Don't force me to shoot you, Father. - Said Roy coldly, his piercing black eyes were animated by a ferocity that seemed equal to the vampire's. - From this distance I can reduce your brain into a pile of pulp. - He seemed to smile with a certain degree of satisfaction. - And my clothes would get all dirty.

Another low growl, mixed to a laughter, shook the priest's chest. Roy received a dark glare, as threatening as a snake's.

- You don't have the courage to do it. - He scoffed in amusement, licking his lips with desire before talking in a sing-a-song tone.

- Roy, Roy,
My little boy,
I've seen your basement,
Is that your new toy~?

A gunshot echoed very close to his ear, and the dark brown irids widened in surprise. The pistol the man was holding with both hands was still smoking from its barrel, as he moved a step back, his eyes reduced into two black slits.

- As you can see, Father, I do have the courage. - His voice was emotionless. - Do your best to make things easier for the both of us, and shut the fuck up.

He wanted to put an end to that story so bad.

- Roy, please. - The Mayor's voice finally seemed to reach the alchemist's ears, visibly shaken. - Let him be.

The man looked at him out of the corner of the eye, almost glaring daggers. - Stay out of this, Peb. - He snapped flat, focusing back on the priest. - The affection you feel for him is blinding your logic. - He moved to shoot again, but Peb's hand rested on his gun firmly, stopping him. He had approached him in silence to block him.

- Don't. Shoot. - He intimated.

Roy arched an eyebrow at that request. Or better yet, at that order.

- Aren't you a hunter, Peb? - He asked, almost with sarcasm. - Should I remind you of all the people who have been killed by these monsters, including your father?

Peb repressed a curse, clenching a fist. - Mirror has nothing to do with this. - He struggled to keep calm. - He's just a victim of those creatures.

Once again, the laughter of the priest drawn their attention. His empty dark eyes were observing them, making them jump slightly. They both trembled, Roy still holding his gun up, aiming at the vampire's chest, the finger itching on the trigger.

The Mayor forced his weapon down with a push, not looking away from his friend. The loud laughter that burst again from the priest's chest made me gasp and forced them to move a few steps back, both watching him flexing his body as if he were trying to approach.

- That's the kind of things that amuses My Lord - He whispered in a chuckle, moving his arms behind his back. - To see people arguing is one of his favorite hobbies. When he isn't in the mood for… - He paused to chuckle more. - … amusing activities.

Roy's face turned into a mask of pure disgust, and he twitched. That monster had really been the priest who had comforted him so many times before, even during his girlfriend's funeral? Looking at him now, he couldn't believe it.

Could it be possible to be changed that much? Where had that sympathetic, muffled voice gone? The voice that he had used to talk to his churchgoers? Where were those sweet brown eyes that always seemed to smile? He wasn't himself anymore, his friend Peb had to deal with it. Just as he had to.

- I suppose you've become a slave, Father, isn't that so? - He asked to the priest, with a flat tone. - This Lord surely must have some terrible power on you, the monster that forced you to become like this. - He received a low growl, similar to a dog defending his favorite bone.

- You aren't allowed to talk about him in such a disrespectful manner. - He replied with a threatening snarl, rising his shoulders as if preparing a leap.

Roy's gaze was still dull, but he moved a step back to stay safe. He had no plan to risk his life there. - I don't believe such a creature deserves respect, Father. - He said calmly, watching him baring his teeth.

- You don't know him, you can't understand. - He hissed. He bared his fangs further, stretching his neck in Roy's direction, his dark eyes shining with wrath, reflecting the fire of the torches before many of them turned off suddenly because of an unexpected cold breeze whirling around the room.

The two men covered their eyes to protect them from the dust flying off the stone floor, also trying not to lose sight of the priest's figure in that mist. Everything in the room exploded struck by a flaring lightning originating from nothingness, and shards of glass and holy water drops spread around, a shard scratching Peb's cheek, making it bleed.

The strength emanating from the vampire faded suddenly when the overwhelming smell of rust reaching his nostrils; he smelled the air, gasping, pointing his eyes towards the Mayor's face, who was covering his wound with a palm.

With a feral leap he clutched his head in his shoulders and jerked forward, breaking all the ropes tying him in one go and jumping onto him. Caught off-guard, all Peb could do was bringing his hands to his face to protect it, his ears only vaguely registering the noise of Roy's trigger being pressed. A gunshot echoed in the stone room, and a yelp followed right afterwards.

Roy's hand quickly moved on the silver dagger and poured it in a blood-colored liquid, and its blade was steadily stabbed into the vampire's flesh, wounding him. He hissed, growling, feeling the intense pain in the spot that had been struck, and he saw small red veins starting to branch from the blade all over his skin, to then dissipate.

He jerked his neck, bringing one hand over it as he felt suddenly breathless, twisting over the floor as the other hand convulsively gripped on his arm, where a gunshot hole peeked through his ripped shirt. He hissed again, and stretched his face towards Roy to try and bite him. Bit by bit, he felt growing weaker, as if his body was reacting negatively to that scarlet liquid he had absorbed; his eyes closed suddenly, and he fell limp, face-down to the floor without making a sound.

Looking at each other in terror, the two recovered some breath and watched at the vampire's body. Carefully, Roy moved a few steps forward, slowly reaching out towards the still corpse, expecting to see it move. But even after shaking him, he remained in the same position. His face was blank, as if sleeping.

The black-haired man sighed. That had been a very close call.

He looked at Peb's pale face, whose eyes were still staring wide at the figure of who had once been his brother. He approached the Mayor and slightly patted his shoulder, receiving a gaze veiled with panic.

- Why did he react like that? - Whispered Peb with cracked voice, gasping as his fingers gingerly touched his wound on the right cheek.

Roy sighed again. He was refusing the truth. He had never hesitated pulling the trigger when it came to werewolves. Now that they were facing a vampire, he seemed to have turned into a powerless coward unable to conceive the situation they had found themselves in. Maybe it was just because the vampire in question had once been his friend and only brother.

- He's not the man you once knew anymore. - He said calmly. - Only one of those filthy creatures.

He didn't care whether the priest would be aware of his condition or not. He didn't even care it hadn't been him to kill his Sophia.

Sophia. Killing one of them would have completed half of his task. The full revenge would've come later.

He wasn't going to give up.

And for that, he needed to survive. Remorse was something Roy had had to leave behind years ago.

Another glare from Peb wasn't enough to make him snap out of it. He watched him gulp, with the face of who was still refusing what his eyes were witnessing.

- He can't have changed that much. - He murmured under his breath, scooting closer to his brother. Gently, he moved his dark hair away from his face, behind his ears, before running one arm behind his back to pull him up. He watched him in silence, sensing the black gaze of his companion over him. And he snorted.

- He did change, as you can see. - He stated, shaking his head slightly. - Do you even realize he just tried to kill you? - He added, walking up to him and the vampire.

Peb looked up to meet his eyes, to then quickly look down again at the white face of the braided man. He looked all around the room, contemplating the disaster that had quickly ensued. He couldn't believe Mirror was now able of such strength. It was frightening.

- Worry about yourself instead. Never look into a vampire's eyes. They can read into your heart and use your own weakness as their weapon to subjugate you. - He replied flat, avoiding to answer the question, that had sounded much like a statement.

He had wanted to kill him, so what? After he had allowed him to fall in the hands of those monsters only because he had refused to learn about his ancestors, he couldn't blame him. But it was best to keep such conjectures to himself. He caressed those dark brown threads one last time before standing up and motioning to Roy to help him transport him up the long staircase leading to another of the Abbey's halls.

Slowly climbing up in the darkness, they steps echoed in the poorly-lit space between the stone walls, accompanied by the sound of water drops falling from stalactites; with the priest's weight equally balanced over their shoulders, his breath seemingly absent, they returned to the secret room they had discovered thanks to Mayor Ahhad's diary; they moved the small marble statue on a shelf to the right to open the passage, walking outside from under the altar.

Looking around at the abandoned benches, Peb motioned to Roy to follow him, and they crossed the chapel in silence, crossing the corridors to arrive at the Abbey's doors, from which they exited into the muffled open air, a misty light allowing them to spot the silhouettes of the village in the distance.

They walked down the road separating them from town, heading left, towards an abandoned stable between the trees, next to the barn. After some resistance, the old doors gave in with a light shoulder tackle, quietly turning over the hard-leather hinges; as they entered, the smell of hay enveloped them, along with mold, humidity, and dust.

The few holes that had been left for ventilation were but small slits between the wood, not even enough to let the light in, only thin rays slithering inside the building. Perfect place to lock a vampire in.

- Let's tie him here. - Said the Mayor, pointing at the big column supporting the whole stable, as they walked around the empty chocobo boxes. - He won't be able to escape when he awakens.

Roy looked at the column, in thought. Then he shrugged and shook his head. - With one pull he could make this crumble. - He replied.

The Mayor chuckled. - I've considered that. - He quickly handed him some ropes, and Roy felt them wet inside his palms. - I've poured them in holy water. Even with all his newfound strength as a vampire, he'll never be able to break them, never mind crumble this support. That's why I want to tie him up.

Roy arched an eyebrow, startled. - To kill him would've been easier. - He pointed out.

The Mayor looked at him askance. He then put down the unconscious vampire, kneeling next to him. - No. - He said flat, starting to tie him up. - When I met him in that street, he could've killed both me and Ayuki.. - He sighed. - …But he did not. He stood there and stared at us until the other vampire came and took him away. - He pulled hard on the knot, before standing back up and dusting his pants off. - I want to believe there is still something human left in him. Mirror is strong, he resisted ten years… We can't abandon him.

Roy stared at him, then took a deep breath. He decided to comply. Peb was a stubborn type. He know that at that point it was only pointless to argue, just like with his father. To keep telling him it was best to kill the priest was a waste of time. And Roy was running short on it. He had to go back home, as soon as possible, to check…

He took off the silver emblem from his pocket and tied it to the wooden beam above them, so that it'd hang in front of the priest, in clear sight. He then patted the Mayor's shoulder, running one arm around his shoulders to lead him outside the stable, the daylight still stirring behind the mountains far to the East.

One hour. One our left before Dawn.

They had carried him there just in time.

Who knows if daylight had truly that effect the rumors told about on them.

- Peb, in this case you should take responsibility. - He said calmly, snapping out of his own thoughts. - If everything gets out of your hands, don't say I hadn't warned you.

Peb gave him a bitter smile. It had been hard for Roy to listen to him that night. He wouldn't have hesitated to kill his friend. And he could understand why.

- Of course I'm taking responsibility, I'm your Mayor. - He shook his head. - I can't put you in danger out of a whim. - A joyless sigh escaped his lips. - I've involved you even too much tonight, asking you to follow me.

The shadow of a smile lighted the tired face of the black-haired man. - When it comes to shooting down a vampire I'm always up for it, you know it. Though I still prefer to set them on fire. - He murmured.

- Hah. Say that after you've done it at least once. What's with you and fire, really?

The two disappeared towards the village, unaware of the two blue shards observing every little movement of them, hidden in the shadow, as a low, deep growl broke the silence in the forest.

Son of Darkness: Act V - Stories Unfounded

Grauberg Estate, 612 C.E.

He was sitting at the desk in his uncle's office, as he'd usually do at that hour, reading history tomes and yawning listlessly, scratching his head absently, trying to concentrate on his study, pointlessly. He huffed and moved his hair from his face, flipping a page before looking outside the large window facing the forest that surrounded his house, and yawned again.

He would've much preferred to spend his time outside, had he not been slacking in his study of late. He looked around to make sure his teacher wasn't around, and looked outside again, spotting him in one of the gardens below along with one of the housemaids, flirting with her like a brat.

He arched a dark chestnut eyebrow, skeptical. He was locked up there while that old man amused himself. Yet again he huffed, trying to focus back on reading the tome he had at that point labeled as gigantic, frowning as he tried to pay attention to what he was reading. He quickly gave up on it, and closed the book shut before stretching in the large chair.

- Such an exemplary student. - A cheerful voice made him jump, startled.

He turned around quickly to look at who had entered, and suddenly blushed, rushing to grab the shirt he had thrown over another chair to set it over his shoulders.

- What… what are you doing here? - He asked, gulping as he quickly sneaked his arms in the sleeves and clasped the buttons, acting much like a girl that had been caught topless.

His unexpected guest giggled, moving a few steps towards him to sit straddling on the other chair, his arms resting comfortably over the backrest.

- I wanted to see you… - He admitted, smiling at his reddening face. - But from what I'm seeing, I shouldn't have come.

He shook his head, embarrassed. Then he glanced at the office's door, before looking back at him.

- It's not that… - He murmured anxiously. - I'm worried about my uncle.

The other chuckled, waving one hand nonchalantly. - Your uncle will be busy talking business with my father for a while. - He said amused, watching him opening his mouth wide open in surprise before he'd frown, offended.

- So you're not alone. - He snapped, sounding upset. He caused another burst of hilarity.

- I wish I had been. - He whispered with a seducing tone, leaning towards him just enough so that their breaths would blend, keeping away from contact. Then he pulled away, enjoying the red quickly rising to the chestnut-haired boy's cheeks. His attention then drifted on the history books and he arched his dark eyebrows, amused.

- Don't you think it's time that you have some fun? - He asked with irony, glancing at him.

He received a glare, before the blue-eyed boy stood up with the tomes in his hands and went to the shelf they belonged to, carefully placing them in matching chronological order. He turned to look at him, tilting his head and clasping hands behind his back, as if asking for approval. Before he could say anything, though, a red-haired boy entered the room, looking at both of them with a questioning frown.

He then focused on his brother, pointing at the shelf. - Are you done with the books of San d'Orian history? - He asked, approaching.

The blue-eyed boy shook his head and retrieved them to give them to him, with a vague smile brightening his face. Then he went back to the desk to grab the braided boy's arm, dragging him towards the threshold before turning to look at his younger brother.

- If they ask you, we're went for a ride, okay? - He asked cheerfully, and the other nodded without a look nor a word, waving one hand absently.

Kenjii let a small chuckle and lead the other boy to the stables, finding strange that he hadn't said a word. He stopped a few yalms before the building, letting him go and turning to look at him with a frown.

- What's wrong? - Asked the chestnut-haired boy, hesitantly stepping forward to rest his hands on his shoulders. Tegian shook his head, smiling.

- Nothing, I was just wondering whether your brother knew about us. - He said softly, watching the blue-eyed wincing in surprise. He watched him look down, one hand reaching up to torment the back of the dark-chestnut hair. - He doesn't, huh? - He concluded, before gently taking Kenjii's chin with two fingers to lift his head up, to look in those strange sapphire eyes that had bewitched him from the very first time he had seen them.

Special eyes that couldn't be found anywhere else. As special as the boy who was standing before him.

- It's not a problem to me, you know. - He said, smiling gently. - Long as neither your uncle nor my father find out.

Kenjii nodded slightly, without a word. They couldn't risk that their relatives learned of their relationship. Because of the society they lived in, and also because of their statuses. The heir of a Bastokan Laird and the son of a simple merchant. What future could they have together?

He felt the boy's arms wrap around him, and he sighed before resting his head against Tegian's shoulder, slightly snuggling against it.

- Tha gaol agam ort. - He whispered with a sweet tone.

His partner chuckled, receiving a blue glare. - Translation, please? - He asked cheerfully.

Kenjii chuckled too and looked around before pulling his face to his, chastely kissing his lips before pulling away. He looked at him, smiling.

- I love you.





Brown, gold-streaked eyes slowly fluttered open, registering the place he had been locked in bit by bit; he couldn't remember how he got there. All his dizzy mind could recall were the faces of his two companions and some of their words as they had lead him out of the mansion, in the middle of the clearing where the air had progressively grown colder.

Then, nothing. Only a vivid emptiness. Only devastating chaos.

His sight had blurred, he remembered that; his head had started to hurt and spin, and he had shaken it to clear his mind, sounds and voices too loud inside it, showing him images and images for the umpteenth time. From what he could remember, his sight had narrowed into a small dot, and even though he hadn't quite lost his senses, he definitely wasn't self-conscious nor of aware of his surroundings. Just like when he'd become a vampire. Like when he needed to drink his Lord's blood to recover.

He weakly looked around, blinking in confusion, convinced for a moment to be inside his coffin, next to his Lord. He tried to stand up, but he couldn't; examining himself, he noticed he had been tied up with ropes to a large wooden column, and that he was surrounded by hay. He blinked, perplexed, unable to understand that situation.

A stable? Why was he tied up? What had happened in that time lapse in which he had lost himself? He licked his lips, feeling them dry; he had a strange taste in his mouth, as if he had been throwing up until then, his arm and neck skin were slightly itching.

The weak red light filtering through the cracks gave him the chance to look around, and he noticed pale scars quickly fading, assisted by the awakening of his body from his daylight slumber. Confused, he tried to remember what had happened.

He tried to shake his shoulders, but an annoyingly sharp pain climbed up from his arm, and a moan escaped him. He looked at the hurting spot, noticing his shirt was ripped. It was a hole as big as a bullet, and the white of the shirt had subsided to a strange gray hue, as if someone had shot him from a very close distance. All he could do was blink, perplexed.

His tongue barely stroke his canines, and on instinct he pulled his lips in a snarl. The feeling was the same as when he'd go back home after a hunt, except he was more tired. He felt a strange, perceptible restlessness, probably withdrawal symptoms. He needed blood.

His blood. And that disgusted him. He didn't want to admit it, but he desperately needed the blood of his Lord.

- Have I lost control? - He murmured in anxiety, talking to nothing. He felt something heavy oppressing him.

Looking up he noticed it; a silver emblem tied to one of the wooden beams. He stared at it with intense fear, as if it was wounding his eyes and body. He, who had always been a man more than devoted to the Church and his Goddess, had had to fear that holy relic from the first moment he had become a vampire, the thing that had once been the symbol of his stalwart faith.

Perhaps that was why it hurt him, unlike the other vampires.

Weakly, he saw an orange ray of light coming from the door; immediately after, the Mayor and Roy Mustang entered, accompanied by a blond Hume. The three observed him, carefully approaching, and he twisted away, unwillingly hissing at then much like a cat. He bared his fangs, ready to strike, when he saw various silver weapons in the blond's arms; bullets and a pistol, along an oil lamp. Without even wanting to, he snarled, feeling his canines pulsing. His thirst was growing. He had to be careful.

- What's your plan, Peb? - He asked in a hiss, glaring at the Mayor.

His voice was the usual one now. His voice. Although still a little hoarse.

Peb didn't bother replying, and sat on the hay before him with crossed legs, motioning to the blond Hume to put down everything next to him. Roy instead stood still, like a shadow behind the column Mirror had been tied to. Glancing at him, the Mayor sighed, and looked back at the vampire, who seemed to be observing him with narrowed eyes.

He then watched the blond Hume. He didn't want him to be further involved too. - You can go, Jericho. We've got it from here. - He said calmly.

Despite the alarmed expression that had painted upon the man's face, he didn't speak a word and bowed his head, quickly walking out of the stable. With Roy's silent shadow watching over him, the Mayor took a deep breath, scanning the priest.

He almost looked the same as usual now, except for his all-too-young face. Almost younger, even, as if he was back in his eighteen. The pure, innocent eighteen years old boy he once was.

- I was forced to tie you up. - He pointed out, sighing again. - You were dangerous.

The vampire looked from him to the black-haired man, blinking. Seeing as he couldn't understand, Peb took another breath, slowly raising one hand to his face and touching the patch that was now covering the cut on his cheek. Looking at it, the brown-haired's face turned into a shocked, pained mask.

- I… I did that? - He whispered with a cracked voice, his dark brown eyes widened in disbelief at his own actions. - Did I… hurt you?

Yet again, the Mayor sighed. Without receiving a reply, Mirror felt his heart squeezed in a vice. He had almost done what the vampires had ordered. He had almost… killed him.

He looked down, his long bangs hanging before his eyes, his canines still peeking from his parted lips.

- Forgive me, Peb. - He whispered, not daring to look at him. - I lose control way too much lately, especially when… - He paused, biting his lower lip, his fangs sinking in his own flesh. - … When I start to get… thirsty.

The Mayor's attention pointed back on the vampire, his gaze still low, carefully avoiding eye-contact with his, showing guilt. It was his job to do it. He had let him fall in the arms of those monsters, when he let him go ten years before. He was their true target.

To think that in his ignorance he had even blamed him to be the cause of those creatures' appearance, back then. Had he only known everything from the beginning, he would've never allowed him to get involved; he would've gone himself to the mansion to put an end to everything.

Nobody would've suffered, and perhaps those monsters would've left. Instead…

Another sigh. He couldn't be brave enough to face it. He looked at his friend with sweet comprehension.

- I told you, Mirror. Don't worry. - He murmured, smiling bitterly. - We'll find a solution.

At those words, the priest also smiled with a bitter look. His brother was still the naive person he had always been, even as a child. He would've never changed, Peb Renford.

- There is no solution. - He said joylessly. - You think I haven't tried? - He asked, shaking his head weakly. - I've even tried to kill me with my own hands.

The Mayor scooted closer to rest one hand on his shoulder, to stop him. He couldn't see him like that. He was too emotionally unstable.

- You wouldn't have asked me to take you away, if you had just given up. - He said matter-of-factly.

The priest looked up at those words, his braid gently sliding before his shoulder; a small sparkle was shining in his dark-brown eyes. - I didn't want to die alone in there.. That's why I asked you. - He shifted slightly, making the hay under him rustle. - You're a hunter… I want you to kill me, Peb.

Peb's eyes widened, as he gasped. - How can you ask me that, Mirror!? How!? - He exclaimed, alarmed. He pulled his hand away, as if feeling scorched.

How could he ask him something like that? He couldn't do it in the mansion, how could he do it now, with him in that pitiful state?

- Because I could kill you! - Exclaimed the priest, as afraid as his friend.

The two humans looked at each other nervously, putting up undecipherable faces. They were both breathing in tension, trying to avoid the eyes of the vampire, who instead looked on the brink of tears. A moan escaped his lips as he jerked his head back, and seemed to slowly ragdoll against the column supporting the stable's roof, closing his eyes.

- To all of my children in whom Life flows abundant,
To all of my children to whom Death hath passed his judgment,
The soul yearns for honor, and the flesh the hereafter,
Look to those who walked before to lead those who walk after…[1]

He started to whisper that song quietly, slowly rocking. Peb and Roy exchanged a look, confused. A vampire singing a prayer? What kind of trick was that? Looking carefully at him, they couldn't still read his emotions. He whispered that song with cracked voice, in a rhythm growing more and more disarticulated. Startled, the black-haired man walked around him to poke his friend's shoulder, motioning to get up and follow him.

Leaving the priest to his feeble sobs and cracked whispers, he pulled him away, to the stable's threshold. Then he rudely grabbed his face in his hands to force him to look at him, staring in that shocked face without letting his grip go. The washed out gray-blue eyes were empty and unemotional.

- Get a hold of yourself. - Snapped Roy imperatively, with a low voice. - You knew this is how it would've ended, so stop crying on yourself. It won't fix anything.

Peb tried to look away, but the other didn't let him. His grip tightened, his black eyes reduced into slits fueled with wrath. - You can't keep hoping he'll be back to be himself, you can't. - He whispered, noticing the despair in his face. - Even yesterday, he showed you pretty well, when he tried to kill you. He can't control himself, he can't tell Good from Evil anymore.

This time the Mayor's attention went back to him, despite the veil of indomitable terror on his gaze. He grabbed the man's wrists and made him gently loosen his grip, so he could step back a bit. Between them flew the smell of humid hay and the indistinct murmurs coming from the priest, who had flexed his legs to his chest, in a weak attempt to curl up in a protective ball.

Peb closed his eyes, shaking his head weakly. - I am aware, Roy. - He murmured, bowing his head and covering his eyes with one hand, perhaps to hide possible tears. - I am well aware, unfortunately.

Roy gently ran one arm around his back, pulling him to himself so he could rest his head against his shoulder, patting his head with one hand. - What we must do now, is try to get some information from him. - He whispered quietly. - We can't turn him to how he once was, but perhaps we can put an end to this senseless battle weighing on your shoulders.

Peb nodded in reply, in silence, and one hand convulsively gripped on Roy's coat, as if he wanted to punish truth itself for being so harsh. Roy understood all too well.

- I'll tell the others about this. - Continued the alchemist, with a feeble, heartening voice, as if he was talking to a child. - They will help us, you'll see.

- I don't want to involve them. - Was Peb's answer, as he shook his head and pulled away.

- It's not your business alone, Peb. - Roy replied, looking at him seriously. - We've got to support each other, no? - He added with a small ironic smile to comfort him.

Despite his tired gray-blue eyes were making him look much older than a few days before, Peb nodded again, pulling a corner of his mouth. - I thought you said I had to take responsibility yesterday. - He said in a whisper, trying to sound sarcastic.

Yet his voice was too cracked, ready to grow feebler. At those words, Roy smiled tiredly, and patted his shoulder, cheering him up. - I ramble a lot, you know it. - He said, receiving a look of gratitude.

Then they stood in silence. They looked at each other, like accomplices. And it all happened under the priest's gaze, who had stopped murmuring without them noticing.

A fleeting flash sparkled in those eyes as dark as night, a flash of something unknown that came and went, sinking in the crimson-streaked dark pools. The shadow of a smile reached his lips, before it'd fade as well.

Things couldn't have gotten better.

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––-
[1] This song belongs to the Final Fantasy vocal collection, and its title is "Answers"

Son of Darkness: Act VI - Human Heart, Demon Heart

In the village, 891 C.E.

- Come on, Mirror. It's only a little harder than your last book. - The Mayor encouraged him with a chuckle, showing a small smile under his beard.

He was sitting at the kitchen's table, amongst tomes, paper and fountain pens, looking at his adopted son's focused face; he had been living with him in the village for two years now, and his progress in studying English had been rather impressive. Of course, there were still some gaps, but he was able to have a conversation without asking for help to the Mayor nor his brother, who on the other hand never missed a chance to teach him something new.

They were all sitting there, one chuckling, the other absently looking around the kitchen, observing the housekeeper busy preparing dinner. At some point the brown-haired boy huffed, letting his pen go and resting his chin against the edge of the table, looking up in the Mayor's washed blue-gray eyes with a frustrated frown.

- I can't transplate it. - He muttered, looking around as everyone chuckled.

His brother hopped off the chair and moved close to him, putting hands on Mirror's shoulders and his chain over the long dark-brown hair that had been tied in a low ponytail; he peered into the book.

- It's "translate". - He corrected him, chuckling like his father. - You've read harder stuff than this. Why can't you do this?

The housekeeper joined the giggling too, as she mingled the stew while trying to refrain the hilarity. She briefly abandoned the ladle to cut onions and carrots. She didn't intervene; she had actually learned to let those two brothers amuse her with their continuous bickering, although that would often cause them to forget about their homework.

They were quickly interrupted by the Mayor, who gave them a warning glare. Yet, an amused sparkle was shining in his eyes quite clearly.

- Peb, you focus on your ancient language. - He said to his son. - And you, Mirror, try translate it out loud, come on.

The two gave an almost identical, synchronized pout.

- Ancient language is so useless… - Whined Peb, crawling back on his chair, looking at his book in discomfort. Another glare admonished him, but he countered with a bigmouth.

The Mayor looked up in dismay, before focusing back on Mirror, who was trying to silently fight some word with his lips, looking unsure on what he was reading or its spelling. After several tries and corrections, he finished his reading, to then run one hand in his dark hair, messing them up in frustration before frowning up at the Mayor.

- It's too long… - He complained, but the man's look admitted no polemics.

Pouting again, making his disappointment clear, he grabbed the book with both hands to lift it before his eyes to read better. He focused his glare, concentrated.

- «The Bishop had ju.. just bent … down, and was sighing as he examined.. a plant of co … chocolaria..»

- Cochlearia, Mirror. Cochlearia. - Corrected him steadily the Mayor, smiling.

The kid immediately pouted, his face reddening as the other two burst into laughter causing him further shame.

- Come on, keep going. - Cheered him up the man, grinning.

The gold-streaked gaze looked around in embarrassment for a bit, before he'd clutch his head between his shoulders and resumed translating the text, careful not no look up.

- «… a plant of cochlearia…» - He continued, emphasizing the word on purpose. - «… des Guillons, which… the basket had… broken as it fell across the bed. He rose up at Mad… Madoom?» - He questioned interrupting, looking for help in the Mayor's eyes.

He smiled more, resting his chin on his clasped hands. - Madame. - He conceded, watching the child nod.

- «… Madame Magloire's cry… »

He continued to read and translate until dinner was ready, stuttering on some word and eventually causing more little bursts of hilarity in the room, as the others corrected him cheerfully. When the dishes were finally served he abandoned the books and went with the others in the dining room, were they all sat to eat together, joking and laughing heartedly.

The eleventh hour came soon, and the Mayor stood up with a loud yawn, looking at the two children and their drooping eyes. The housekeeper was gathering the used plates, humming an old song to herself, as energetic as she had been throughout the day.

- Come on you boys, off to bed. - Said the man, patting both their backs lightly, and accompanying them to the stairs. - Tomorrow we'll resume your studies, not go have some rest.

- Can't we skip study tomorrow? - Asked his son, looking up at him with hopeful blue eyes.

The dark brown-haired child mimicked him in support, almost fluttering his eyelashes. A low blow. The Mayor knew he couldn't resist that kind of treatment. He nodded with a small smile, gripping on the wall as the children immediately climbed over his legs in cheer.

- Thank you, daddy! - Exclaimed Peb.

- Thank you, thank you! - Echoed Mirror, tightening the grip.

Chuckling, the man gently forced them to let go, ruffling their hair in affection. - Now hurry and go to bed, before I change my mind. - He commanded, with a fake admonishing frown.

The two laughed and nodded, before pulling his shirt down to force him down and kissed his cheeks, then rushed upstairs, towards the room they shared. The man looked up at them until they disappeared, then took a long sigh as he returned back in the dining room, his face thoughtful and darkened.

He thought back to the day he had picked up the gold-eyed boy that now slept in his upper floor, side by side with his son. Had it been a good idea to take him with him? The more he thought about it, the more he believed so, even though often times he felt afraid to look in those eyes, too strangely dark to be innocent. Even when he'd catch him muttering a foreign language he felt a chill climbing up his spine.

He had spent the past two months moving back and forth from the island, trying to meet with some of his fellow hunters to talk about it, trying to understand if it could be possible that one of His victims could reincarnate centuries after to bring doom. Neither of them had been able to clear his mind, the advice he had received was always the same. To kill him before he'd turn eighteen, the age he had died at centuries before. But how could he even think of that, not that everybody had grown fond of him? He was just a child, after all.

What monster could've killed an innocent child who had never hurt anyone? He didn't want to be the one, not at all. He would've found a way to make him escape that life, he would've prevented the curse from fulfilling and let him live freely, whatever his choice would be.

It was the housekeeper's curious glance to make him snap out of his thoughts, as she carried the last plates away in her strong hands. - Is something the matter, Mayor? - She asked, tilting her head. - You look like you just saw a ghost.

He smiled tiredly, going to sit on one of the small couches in the living room. - I'll be leaving for another of my journeys in a few days. - He said, glancing at her. - Take care of the children, and please, keep an eye on Mirror.

- I'll take care of his education, don't worry.

- I didn't mean just that. - He confessed, shaking his head. - Don't leave him alone; if something strange happens, send someone to Grauberg to call me. I'll be at the usual inn, they will find me.

- Why would something happen, Mayor? - She asked again, blinking and frowning, unable to understand the anxiety on his face.

The man didn't reply, and sighed again. Shaking his head as he stood back up, he went to the threshold. - I'll tell you in due time. - He murmured with a dark voice. - I'll be going to lay down now, good night.

She nodded. - Good night, Mayor. - She replied, heading back to the kitchen.

The Mayor looked at her one last time, before heading joylessly upstairs and crossing through the hallway at the upper floor, walking past the kids' room. It was slightly ajar, and he opened it quietly, spotting his son's head peeking from under the blankets; the brown-haired boy was still standing, next to the window.

He was looking outside with a thoughtful expression, his face resting on his right hand's palm. Under the filtering moonlight, his skin looked much whiter, pale and silvery, almost unreal. At that sight, the Mayor's eyes widened in shock. And when the kid turned to look at him, he almost screamed.

The brown of his eyes was dull, as if he was sleepwalking. The white on his face was unnatural, and the moonlight's hue was playing with his hair, creating an impressive illusion of movement, as if he was surrounded by a light breeze. But all of this lasted but one moment; he blinked and looked around.

When he spotted him behind the door he frowned, and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He walked back to bed without a word, laying down as if nothing had happened.

The Mayor's uneasiness however didn't quieten. That image remained in his mind throughout the night, and even the following morning his face was showing traces of stupor, and maybe fear too. As he looked at the two children placidly eating their breakfast as they talked, he couldn't speak a word, not even as they tried to pull him in the conversation.

He was lost observing Mirror's face, a face identical to any other kid's.

Then why did he look like an otherworldly creature to him the night before?

He knew the answer all too well, but he refused to face the truth. Yet, the awareness oppressed him like a burden as, once outside, the two waved at him as usual with cheerful smiles before running up to their playmates. In a flickering moment when his eyes met the ones of the brown-haired child, looking at the sweet and yet ominous smile brightening that innocent face, he couldn't help but feel a grip on his heart. He looked up at the sky, his eyes staring in the pale blue of the morning without really seeing it, as his eyebrows furrowed in worry.

- Good Goddess, what have I done?





He slowly opened his eyes to find himself in his bed, in his room. He sat up, running one hand in his hair before reaching blindly towards the small table next to the bed and pick up his glasses to wear them and look around. Next to him, was the placid sleeping figure of his wife, her short hair framing her face in a dreamy expression crawled by the torpor of sleep.

He smiled slightly, moving the blankets aside to sit on the edge of the bed, looking in the room to find his clothes. Once he retrieved them he stood up, heading to the bathroom to wash up. After dressing up, he looked back at his wife, approaching to place a fleeting kiss on her cheek. In silence, he crossed the corridor that separated their room from their daughter's, glancing inside and finding her asleep.

Another small smile reached his lips as he slowly walked downstairs, and as he opened the door the gentle breeze of damn carried a humid scent to his nose. He looked around cautiously, and after making sure nobody had left their house yet, he walked up the narrow path heading to the Abbey. They had carried the priest there but a few hours ago, tying him up on one of the benches in front of the altar, so that he could look at the great Goddess's statue before it.

Often times, that night, he had told himself they were being cruel to him, but he had preferred to listen to Roy Mustang rather than his heart. Perhaps because, unconsciously, he too was starting to believe everything they had been doing was in vain.

He arrived to the heavy doors of the Church, and pushing them with both his hands he slowly opened them, letting a ray of light in the dusty hall, accompanied by the sinister creak as the gate closed back behind his shoulders. He was still there, unmoving, just like they had left him.

Approaching, he saw the tied hands abandoned on the priest's lap, his torso still wrapped tightly with the ropes chaining him to the bench, he looked limp, although his muscles were visibly in tension. His eyes were closed, trembling slightly under his closed eyelids, as if he was about to wake up. Mirror's face was paler than the day before, his alabaster cheeks now looking almost hollow, imitating the face of a man that hadn't been eating in a long time.

His long dark-brown hair were falling limp before his shoulders, almost touching his hands, which had glassy, transparent nails. Peb felt like a worm at that sight.

And despite the cold irradiating that immortal body that seemed enveloped in darkness, he approached to poke his shoulder, trying to wake him up. He reacted barely, but didn't move.

Was that the diurnal rest? Or was it withdrawal from blood? How long could a vampire resist without his nourishment? He couldn't quite make up theories, but something in his mind moved. He took a deep breath, as he pulled out the knife from the sheath hooked on his belt. Approaching the blade to a finger, he cut his own flesh, letting out a small trickle of blood from the cut, that immediately stained his skin.

Ignoring the small, bearable pain coming from his body, he brought his finger to the vampire's sleeping face, ensuring that he'd smell the rusty scent of his wound. He could smell it too, and it made him want to gag, but he ignored the impulse to look away.

Bit by bit, he sensed the growling trembling within that lifeless body, as a small spasm brought Mirror back in the mortal realm. He sniffed, he shook again. Then the thin pink tongue flickered between his lips, and he started to slowly lick Peb's wound with small, hesitant movements, like a cat licking milk for its first time; stimulated, the blood trickled more from the wound, quickly wrapping his finger. Multiple, conflicting emotions crossed Peb's face as he watched.

What had at first been a feeble overture had turned now in an intimate contact, erotic and lustful, an intense sucking that seemed to not want to end. The dramatic sense he was feeling quickly reached its peak when the vampire started to gently bite his skin, stroking it with his canines.

He quickly pulled away his hand as he felt those lips softening, and he observed the washed out blood staining his skin, along with a trickle of saliva, struggling to conceive what had just witnessed. Was blood like wine to vampires?

If a wine was a well-aged, one would've gladly had a second glass. Was that for blood too? He didn't dare to ask.

He received a look at last, although those dark brown eyes were still absent and empty, as if that little blood he had donated couldn't be enough. He gulped staring at Mirror's face, observing the few drops of his own blood staining his lips, giving them some color.

- Why did you do that? - Asked the priest in a whisper, making him jump.

Careful not to look away from him, Peb walked around the bench, sitting next to him on the bench behind.

- I'm not sure either. - He admitted, feeling uneasy. - All I know is that you're still my brother, even in this form.

The vampire felt an oppressing burden on his chest, as if something had shattered inside. He slightly moved his arms, his gaze staring on his tied hands.

- Please, Peb, don't say such things. - He murmured blankly. - It only hurts more.

- What should I say, then? - Asked the other heartedly. - That I should just leave you on your own? To deal with your fate?

The brown-haired man didn't reply. He just licked away the blood staining his lips, unconsciously enjoying its pleasant flavor, almost with lust. An imperfect human blood. He couldn't give it a better description. He let out a languid moan, as if he weren't tasting just blood.

After that apparently easy, innocent gesture, he turned his head to look at the Mayor, smiling tiredly yet brightly at him, so much the Church's abandoned glasses and candle-holders seemed to shine with it.

- I don't even know what my fate is. - He said, with a joyless sigh. - Look at me. - He added bitterly. - I've followed the path of the Goddess for years, and in the end I found myself bound to live eternal damnation. This is a punishment with no beginning nor end, Peb.

- It's my fault, Mirror. Only my fault.

- I was the one to leave, that night. - He defended him, bowing his head. - I didn't listen to you. I preferred to satisfy the pleading voice I was hearing.

- What voice? - Asked the other in surprise, blinking. - You never mentioned voices.

Another sigh escaped the vampire's lips. - I was hearing voices, ten years ago. - He confessed, without looking at him. - I still do… You can consider me a mad man if you want, but it was one of those voices to call me in that clearing and… well, to make me become what I am now.

A sudden, embarrassed silence fell in the empty chapel. Neither of them spoke nor looked at the other. They were enveloped in a sort of bizarre affinity that wasn't so, as if words were floating around them in silent questions. The more he looked at the priest, the more Peb felt powerless. He questioned himself again on what would've happened, had he gone instead of the priest in that forest, ten years before.

- Nothing would've changed. - Said the braided man, as if reading his mind.

He looked at him briefly, and as he noticed the frowning, confused glare in the Mayor's washed-out blue-gray eyes, he turned to look away, careful not to stop his gaze over the great Goddess's statue before the altar in front of him.

- I'm sorry, sometimes I do that without realizing. - He apologized, defensively. - I won't violate the intimacy of your mind again, forgive me.

Startled by that new revelation, the Mayor blinked in confusion. It took him a bit to retrieve his calm. He risked and leaned forward to rest one hand on Mirror's shoulder, with a small hesitant smile.

- Guess I'll have to be careful to what I think, then. - He said, trying to joke. And he felt like a perfect idiot.

Even though he was his brother, the creature before him was still a vampire, a son of darkness. He mustn't forget that. He was lovely chatting with him as if nothing was wrong. Like he had invited him over for a tea. He shook his head, retrieving his composure. His washed out blue-gray eyes betrayed nervousness and fear.

- I'm about to ask you something that could put you in conflict with your other self, Mirror. But please try to answer me. - He said, in a matter-of-fact tone.

The vampire seemed to take some time to understand his words, as if he had just received a blow that had made him feel dizzy. He fatigued to nod, his breath shortening in anxiety.

Peb took a deep breath and stood up, to walk before him over the dusty marble floor, his steps echoing in the vastness of the chapel. He walked up to a barrel before statue, and opened it, leaving the cap on the altar. The vampire smelled the air, but didn't detect any smell coming from whatever was inside there. He just frowned and waited as his friend walked up to him, keeping a distance.

- I want to know how to destroy them, and I want to know where they spend their time during their diurnal slumber. - He said, flat and imperative.

The dark-brown eyes of the braided man dilated in surprise. Had his hands been free, he would've jerked them to cover his mouth. He started to twist, gasping, his gaze dilated with the bloodlust he hadn't been satisfying in two days, torturing himself.

- I can't, Peb. I can't. - He whispered heartedly, almost afraid. - Please understand; I can't tell you… I can't.

He was growing more and more uneasy, rubbing his own body against the ropes imbued with holy water, in a desperate attempt to get free to run away from that place.

- I need to know, Mirror. I'm doing this for all those who have died. - The Mayor didn't flinch, and lifted one hand.

The priest watched in shock as a bubbling sound came from the open barrel behind the Mayor. Following the man's hand movement, water slowly started to climb out of the vessel, crawling down the wood and then on the marble, to stop next to him. Then it piled up in a watery spire that quickly gained the shape of an eye-less serpent to Peb's side. The vampire didn't need its smell to guess that it was holy water the sorcerer was controlling with his magic.

- This is the Ouroboros. It's a summoning technique based on water magic and divine magic combined. It's a secret technique almost forgotten now. The last one to master it was one of my ancestors, the hunter who gave his life away to destroy the last, most powerful vampire on this continent, Aaron S Idavol, and failed. - Explained Peb, looking at the ethereal creature. - I've given you the chance to answer willingly, but if you refuse to cooperate, I'll get the answers I want out of you with force.

- When did you become like this? - A whispered question. His eyes were wide, perhaps with confusion.

- When I've seen all those people dying before I could do anything, including my father. - Answered the other. - When I became aware of the nature of my ancestors' role on this land. So, speak. - He added imperatively, his voice unemotional.

The vampire's dark pools were filled by an obscure void. His upper lip pulled up, baring fangs that shun tremendously.

- I can't tell you, Goddess damn you! - He roared, cursing unconsciously as he let out a gurgling, inhuman cry that made the grand windows shake and explode, causing them to fall down in a violent rain of crystal over the marble flood. The cry seemed to pierce Peb's ears, who narrowed eyes and covered his ears, as the water snake whirled around him in a bubble barrier, shielding him from the shards that darted across the hall.

When the echo of the scream finally faded, both glared at each other, gasping for air, their hearts racing in unison for different reasons: neither of them though was aware of the immense force enveloping them in a conflicting spiral throughout the room. A strange tension seemed to have arouse from the depths of earth itself.

Then, slowly, everything stopped and both of them seemed to calm down. The priest ragdolled against the bench, not falling forward only thanks to the ropes holding him.

- I can't, I can't. - He repeated in a deaf, bubbling murmur. - Why can't you understand? I can't, he would never forgive me.

The bubble seemed to melt down Peb's body, although leaving him dry, and it fell to his feet in a pool as he looked at the priest with a questioning frown. He massaged his ears, still hearing a troublesome whistling noise in them, while staring at the vampire.

- You keep repeating that. - He said, almost in disgust. - He, he, he. Roy was right then, you've turned into a slave or a blood servant.

A startled gaze crossed the vampire's face before he spoke.

- My Lord doesn't drink my blood often. - He said all too easily, perhaps not even aware of his words. - Often times he offers his blood to me.

The Mayor's face contracted at those words. - Good Goddess, Mirror, do you hear what you say!? - He exclaimed, in shock. - How can you say such things with that collected face!? How can say you feed yourself with the blood of a damned creature!?

- I can, because I'm a monster as well now, Peb! I'm nothing but a monster! - He growled, wounding the air with his piercing voice again. - Lust, pleasure, sins, murders! They all belong to my being, there's nothing I can do to change my nature!

His heart raced again, his lungs gasping like those of a racing chocobo. To not look at Peb, he focused his gaze over one of the wooden benches, trying to suppress the overwhelming agony he felt oppressing his chest since when he had awakened from his diurnal slumber.

He wanted to rest, perhaps next to his Lord, like those few times it hard occurred. But to him there seemed to be no peace even in that Hell.

- You've pulled me away from my rest, Peb. - He said suddenly, with a calm, detached tone, almost an empty one. - You've pulled me away from my rest and expect to learn the secrets of my masters… Those who reveal such directions aren't punished with death, you know.

Red-streaked brown eyes darted feral-like on his figure, alert and feverish, with a vacuous, scary gaze that could've belonged to one beyond sanity.

- If I told you, and then went there to die before killing every one of them, I will be the one to suffer centuries of torment without a single day of peace… not you. - He concluded cryptically.

Caught off-guard by that strange tone, so cold and detached, so different from the sweet, muffled voice the priest had been using until then, Peb couldn't speak a word. He opened and close his mouth in confusion, like a fish out of the water. The more he stared in those dark pools chaining him to that gaze, the more his breath seemed to go missing.

He saw a glimpse of terrifying images before his washed out blue-gray eyes, blood streaming everywhere, torn bodies of human beings, even insane, prohibited kisses from fanged mouths. He saw graves and coffins, sapphire-blue eyes blinking in the darkness, lives long gone belonging to ages past; silver emblems hanging from white necks, sizzling over naked, marble-like chests, mortal graves nailed with iron and silver chains and…

- Stop. - He intimated, backing away and rubbing his arms with his hands frantically to retrieve control, his body shaken uncontrollably with shivers.

A small, unemotional smile darted on the dark brown-haired's lips, who let out a crystal laughter, so clear it resembled the rippling water of a stream.

- This is but a taste. - He murmured charmingly. - The tricks of my Lord are much more interesting than these pitiful games. Blood and passion are never-ending, with him.

Peb stared at him in silence, contemplating those deep, dark wells. The human had subsided to the vampire, but he seemed to not have even noticed anymore. What was before him now was a splendid creature, a creature calling for his blood out loud.

It promised lust and sweetness, torment and terror.

- Come to me, Peb. Come to me. I can give you things you can't even imagine…

His voice pierced through Peb's mind just as if he were speaking, even though his lips hadn't moved, still showing that sly smile.

Hesitantly, Peb moved a few steps towards his friend, forgetting what was happening around him, forgetting how it was deadly. He only wanted to drown in the pleasant torpor that silent voice was promising him, he wanted to be pulled in that fatal embrace, he wanted to commit a thousand sins.

He called him silently, offering everything and nothing, luring him with those dark eyes, resembling two perfect onyx pearls.

And he would've fallen into his trick, hadn't a punch crossed his face at that very moment.

He blinked in a lost expression, falling all-fours on the floor still covered with the holy water. Looking up, he saw the black eyes of Roy, accompanied by his friend Marekh, whose wavy chestnut hair were ruffled, perhaps because of the breeze outside. He was staring uninterestedly at the priest, in disgust.

- What was that you said? Never look into a vampire's eyes? - Scoffed the alchemist, reaching out to him to help him stand up.

After tossing him a glance with an upset frown, he grabbed his hand, holding his head with the other, ignoring the feeling of a thousand needles climbing to his injured cheek.

- This distraction was about to turn into a very close call. - He blamed himself, turning his back at everyone, perhaps trying to regain his composure.

He wished he had realized sooner that he had tried to charm him.

He felt one harsh hand over his shoulder.

- We'll take care of this, you go home. - Said Marekh over his shoulder, with a tired, annoyed voice. - Not like I think he can move, tied up like that.

An harsh, cruel laughter flew in the chapel as the vampire heard those words, a laughter that gave everyone the goosebumps. He looked at them one by one with his dark eyes, smiling.

- Let me have my diurnal rest and go back to your mortal business. - He said with an heart-breaking, sensual voice, similar to the tone of an understanding lover. - Before darkness returns on this place, I'll be likely already gone.

- He's bluffing. - Said Roy, although with a glimpse of anxiety in his voice.

And, although indirectly complying to his order, they walked away while looking at him out of the corner of their eyes, with a feeling that that silent threat was still towering over them, burning like a funeral pyre.

The vampire would've found a way.

Something made him sure of that.

And he wanted to avoid that.

Son of Darkness: Act VII - Sibling Secrets

Tavnazia, 612 C.E.

- Tegian! Hey, Tegian!

It was ten in the morning, and in the streets of the Capital the cheerful chattering of the people filled the silence, while the coming and going between the countless stands often forced the dark chestnut-haired boy to stop his running to try and squeeze in that crowd.

His vivid blue eyes never lost sight of the other boy, walking ahead tranquilly, unable to hear his calls because of the bustle in the street.

- Teg! Stop, damn you!

Seeing that he wasn't planning to stop nor managing to hear him at all, he cursed with clenched teeth, dodging a small carriage in front of him with a side jump when one of its wheels broke and several apples started to fall from its barrels over the cobbled floor.

Panting he ran faster, and finally managed to catch him with a final sprint only when they both finally reached the central square, almost empty; he stopped before him with a sideslip and bent forward to catch some breath, leaning with his hands on his legs. He wasn't used at running that much. Considering the kind of family he belonged to, nobody could've blamed him.

- I've been… calling you for half a hour… you moron! - He yelled, glaring at him.

The other boy, who that day was keeping his frontal bangs brushed behind his ears to better show his beautiful, deep eyes, though still with his usual low braid on the back of his head, smiled in amusement, and ran one arm around his shoulders.

- I'm sorry, My Lord, I couldn't hear you. - He said calmly. He frowned and pulled his arm away, when he saw the other still upset. - Is something wrong? - He asked, in concern.

The blue-eyed boy shook his head and shrugged.

- You know I hate when you call me 'My Lord' or 'Lord'. - He said, running one hand in his dark chestnut eyes. - I've been telling you for like, what? Six months at least that you must call me Kenjii.

Tegian recovered his calm at those words, and smiled sweetly. - All right… Kenjii. - He ruffled his hair with a grin. - But considering the title you have, or rather will gain, you should act as such.

- I hate this lifestyle, you should know better than anyone. - Replied the other one.

- Your uncle would scold you, if he heard that. - Tegian chuckled. - And, he wouldn't want you to be here.

Kenjii looked down at his feet with an indifferent face. - I don't give a damn about that old man at all. - He muttered, receiving an admonishing glare from his partner.

- He's still your uncle; treat him with respect.

- Yeah, right, right. - Kenjii waved off, then he looked around, before shyly approaching to chastely kiss his lips before pulling back.

The braided boy smiled, shaking his head. - Oh, this would drive him nuts. - He pointed out with a chuckle, his sweet smile never fading. - Why are you here in Tavnazia, anyway? I thought you were in Grauberg, in your summer estate. - He absently rubbed his neck. - Didn't you say that's where you were practicing your lessons?

Kenjii looked down, embarrassed. - Actually.. I should've been on the way to Windurst… - He whispered softly.

Tegian's attention darted back to him. His eyes shown growing worry.

- Windurst!? - He asked heartedly, one hand whipping the air. - So far away?

The blue-eyed boy nodded with an upset frown. - Yeah.. - He whispered, still looking down. - My uncle wanted to go back to his estate to restore his Landlord title.

A strange anxiety oppressed Tegian's chest, as he observed the chestnut hair of the boy before him with a sad look. - So… we'll.. never see again? - He asked under his breath, in a feeble whisper, refusing to face reality.

Though deep inside, he knew. He was the heir of a landlord, he couldn't stay away from home forever. Six months had been too much already. He contemplated Kenjii's bowed hand for what seemed endless minutes before he'd suddenly look up, staring at him with those deep blue eyes shining almost ferociously.

- I won't allow him to make us apart. - He said, determined. - After all, he already decided to stay a bit longer. - He then gave him such a sweet smile, so unusually full of love, he seemed to irradiate the same warmth of the noon sun. - I'll manage to impose myself and stay here with you. I'm old enough to marry, so I'm perfectly able to start my own life. - He moved a few steps forward to find himself but one span from him. - And I want to live it with you… Aren't you happy?

Once again Tegian relaxed, looking around before watching him again, raising one hand to stroke one of those soft cheeks, that had filled with some color after all the months spent outside with him.

- Very happy. - He smiled too, moving his fingers on his lips. - But this doesn't deny the fact that you should be studying. - He added, chuckling.

He managed to get that sullen boy to laugh too. - Well, you're much more interesting than professor Lotrulien! - He exclaimed, patting his shoulder. - Besides, you can teach me things that old man can never do…

The mischievous smile that had formed on his lips embarrassed Tegian, who looked away, rubbing the back of his head. - My influence is doing bad things to you. You used to be much more innocent. - He muttered, looking at him askance. - I still can't believe you didn't know a single thing about this stuff. Most of boys around here are married before they hit their twenties.

This time, it was Kenjii to blush. He nervously tormented his hands. That kind of topic had always been tremendously embarrassing to him.

- You know my family. I've spent years on books, I've never had time for such things.. - He glanced at him, his face reddening. - … well, before meeting you.

Tegian immediately knew what he was thinking about, observing him with an allusive look. He sighed, lowering his eyelids.

- Kenjii. My father is a business partner of your uncle, you know better than I do. - He said with a soft voice. - They think we're just friends and… - He paused. - … and I can't make you feel these emotions… - He continued joylessly before he could get himself to say something else, as tempted as he was. - We shouldn't even be together.

- That's why I never asked. - Murmured the other, still looking down. - I don't want you to get jailed or condemned.

- But I love you, that's all what matters. - He smiled at Kenjii. After another quick look around, he joined lips with his again.

- It's mutual. - He said, blinking and frowning when the braided boy chuckled tenderly. - What's so funny now? - He asked, pouting. - I open up to you and tell you I feel the same and you laugh…!?

Tegian waved one hand in apology, trying to suffocate his chuckling. - Gee, it's so easy to tell you're a newbie at this. - He laughed. - If I say "I love you", you should reply "I love you too" - He covered his mouth. - I've never heard someone in love say "It's mutual"!

The blue-eyed boy frowned more, offended. Without a word, he turned his back at him, crossing the square with long strides, chased by the calls of the confused dark brown-haired boy. In a few seconds, he was next to him again, apologetic.

- Come on, Kenjii. I was just messing. - He murmured, reaching out to move one of his frontal bangs away from his eyes, trying at the same time to keep up his pace. - I didn't mean to hurt you, really.

The other stopped suddenly, glaring daggers at him. - I never did it before! - He exclaimed, feeling much like a girl. - You know I've never had anyone before, that I didn't know what kisses or caresses were, before you! - He shook his head frantically. - There's no need for you to tell me I'm a newbie, I'm well awa…!

His ranting string was blocked by the gold-eyed's mouth pressing against his. He seemed in need of a deeper contact, more than ever before. When he felt Tegian's tongue trying to sneak in his mouth he jumped, pulling away from that kiss, from that new thing, pushing him slightly with both hands on his chest. He heard the braided boy gulping, his face as red as his.

- W-what were you trying to do? - Asked Kenjii, flustered. What was that strange desire he felt growing inside him? Why was he feeling like that? Like he wanted more?

He watched Tegian running one hand through his hair, carefully avoiding eye contact.

- I'm sorry… - He murmured, his voice a little hoarse. - You're not used to this, forgive me.

He felt even more stupid and embarrassed then the blue-eyed boy, when he said those words. In those six months they had been dating, he had always and only stamp-kissed him, never trying to get things more intimate between them. He knew what family he came from and the society they lived in, even just taking the risk to be seen in public would've been considered an indecency. And then, if he thought of that boy's uncle…

- What did you want to do? - Asked Kenjii again, snapping him out of his thoughts.

He looked at him sheepishly, before focusing back on his feet, as he used one of them to trace invisible circles on the ground with the tip of the shoe, uneasy. - I just wanted… - He didn't really know how to call it, even. - Well… you see I… wanted some deeper… contact, between us.

- Ah… - The other looked down too, biting his lower lip, while trying to pull an hesitant smile. - You've never told me about this, though. - He said, his embarrassment still persisting on his face. - Then now… we can make up for that… right?

Tegian frowned slightly at him, but then smiled. That boy was truly unbelievable to him.

He took his hand, and lead him in a well-hidden corner where nobody could see them, accosting then his lips to his and caressing them with the tip of his tongue. When the boy allowed him to, he started to explore his mouth, with a passion he had never felt before, entangling their tongues in a dance that almost resembled a skirmish, until they felt out of breath.

With a small moan the blue-eyed boy pulled away, gasping, his cheeks nearly on fire as he tried in every possible way to not look at him in the eyes. But, with a smile, Tegian moved the boy's hair behind his ears before lifting his chin with his hand, forcing him to face him. He smiled more when he noticed the exquisite red on his face. Kenjii frantically moved away, clenching his fists, and frowning. But he was aware that a smile had also aroused his lips.

- So this is how… - He started, embarrassed. He paused, one hand reaching to rub his neck, slightly tilting his head up to look at the braided boy's curious gaze. Hesitating, he moved closer, and bowed his head until the forehead touched his partner's neck. - This is how lovers kiss, huh? - He asked, his voice but a whisper.

The other just let out a sweet chuckle, before ruffling his hair with affection. He pulled him closer, running his arms around his hips. They stood in silence for a while, until the blue-eyed boy looked up from his shoulder, searching for his eyes with an inquisitive look. He didn't want to be, but he still felt a little embarrassed. And he had to admit it, he wanted another kiss.

But he didn't know how to ask.

As if able to read his mind, the braided boy assisted him with a question.

- Dè a tha thu ag iarraidh, Kenjii [1]? - He asked in his language, surprising him a little.

He managed to alleviate that veil of embarrassment and tension that had created between them the moment they had kissed, causing Kenjii to chuckle, and then look at him with an arched eyebrow, in pleasant curiosity.

- Wow. - He said, repressing another chuckle. - You've improved a lot.

Tegian stepped away to point at his chest and bow comically. - My, thank you. - He said cheerfully, bowing his head. - But you still haven't given an answer. - He added, looking back up at him to chain his gold-streaked iris to the sapphire ones of the other boy.

With a small smile, Kenjii approached him quietly, placing both hands on his shoulders before leaning against him. One span from each other, he spoke into his ear.

- Tha mi ag iarraidh pòige [2] - He whispered sensually, hearing him laugh softly.

The pulled away just enough to join their breaths, before kissing with growing passion, refusing to separate, each tasting the other's flavor many times, parting and joining again, pausing only to let out a chuckling sound from time to time.

But back that day, they couldn't imagine how everything would've changed soon.





As it always had, silence was ruling over the dark corridors he was walking through, like a ghost looking for a peace it couldn't find. He had been outside all night, watching over his precious treasure, wrapped in a light black cape that had perfectly hidden him in the darkness surrounding him, turning him into a shadow amongst many others as he inspected uninterestedly the town streets and its inhabitants sleeping in their homes.

He hadn't been able to suppress the melancholy that had oppressed him those past two days because of the brown-haired's leave, and once again he was forced to face the true facts: two, perhaps three nights, and their foolish plan would've been set into motion.

He had always known, after all. That was his life. His useless, filthy existence.

He stopped in the large atrium with the crystal dome, the ablutions room, and approached the great glass at the upper floor of the mansion, resting one hand over it, and watching the crystal freeze instantly, its surface quickly covering with a frosty layer. He stared at it vacuously for a brief time, moving his hand bit by bit and watching the trail of cracked ice following, with a bitter smile on his thin lips.

Moving a step back and sighing, he moved forward in the shadows of the columns to cover from the light of the sun rising weakly in the horizon, observing its flaming spires and the rays that would've soon warmed up the land and its diurnal creatures. When the light of day became too strong and threatened to reach his arm, he backed away and disappeared towards the dungeons, where no light could menace him if not but the feeble one coming from a lantern or a candle.

He couldn't have wandered at ease, that day.

The sun had risen and wasn't covered by any cloud, and like his brother he was forced to stay confined in the darkness of the basement. As he walked town the spiral stairs heading towards the narrow underground rooms, he spotted the presence of two other vampires, and his uncle, who disappeared towards the entrance without even looking at him, perhaps lost in one of his usual aimless wanderings.

The younger vampire let out a discontent snort, pursuing on his path until he reached the room his brother had chosen, carefully watched over by another vampire. Often times he had tried to charge in the shadows of the village, perhaps in an attempt to revive the chaos he had brought ten years before, causing several troubles including a certain reoccurring one that had been troubling their uncle for a few years now. For that, he had been put on constant watch.

When Kenjii entered, they turned to look at him, and his brother shown an ironic, amused grin.

- At last you show up, mo bhràthair. - He said sarcastically, crossing legs nonchalantly. - Our uncle wouldn't stop asking questions, and I couldn't give an answer that would please him.

Kenjii sighed vehemently, approaching him slowly and sitting on one of the two worn-out leather couches with a hunched position, resting his elbows on his legs and staring down on the floor. He looked up at his brother uninterestedly, even though his expression vaguely let a pained frown transpire.

- I too do need some moments of intimacy, Kirious. - He said, calm and serious, watching him arching his eyebrows.

- Intimacy, hah! - He sad with irony, bringing one hand to his temple. - That is rich from a vampire!

He let him amuse himself with his scoffing, glancing with narrowed eyes at the green-eyed creature that was listening to their talk with a smile on his face, as if amused by their bickering. He was resting his face on one palm and comfortably sitting on a chair, his eyes showing signs of annoyance, like nothing and no one mattered to him. At some point he started to absently caress his spiky, unruly blond hair with one hand, running his thin fingers in those golden bangs, ignoring Kirious's continuous muttering.

- Hikari. - Called him Kenjii with little enthusiasm. - Come here.

He received a detached green gaze, yet the blond stood up and tranquilly crossed the great hall and went to him with a light walk up to one of his masters, stopping but a few steps towards him.

With a light movement of his hand, the blue-eyed vampire motioned to come closer, and put one hand on his arm, pulling it to his face and caressing the thin muscles of its forearm, with closed eyes.

- Brush my hair. - He commanded, leaning back against his chair. - I want to rest, I'm very tired.

The green-eyed vampire bowed his head and stepped back as usual. Then he looked back up, smiling at him.

- This tenderness of yours may be caused by the long time spent watching over your new toy, My Lord. - He murmured with sober, quiet voice, stepping behind him and slowly brushing every chestnut thread, watching them running smoothly between his pale hands. He brushed them with his fingers, almost languidly, making sure to separate the frontal bangs in regular dimensions, under the careful, yet detached gaze of the younger vampire.

Tired to look at them, Kirious yawned loudly and stood up, popping his neck. - You're too weird of late, mo bhràthair. - He said, starting to march back and forth in the room to stretch his legs. - You usually never skip your rest for no reason.

- I am merely watching over what is rightfully mine. - Said Kenjii, lost in the fleeting touches the blond vampire was granting him with passion. His voice had a vaguely threatening note.

Around them, the darker shadows began to ominously dance under the light of the lanterns and candles, the only source of light in that underworld.

Kirious glanced at him, focusing then for a moment on the coming and going of two vampires that brought them something to drink, to them leave them alone again. Then he glared back at his brother with an arched eyebrow.

- It's funny when you use that tone, like you try to be terrifying. - He pointed out, showing confidence, as if the matter didn't bother him.

He noticed the other vampire let out a small chuckle, while keeping his green eyes focused on his work, before looking at him in his brother's stead, who had instead kept a detached gaze.

- You can be even more terrifying, my lord. - He said, smiling. - I suppose that is a quality you've acquired through these centuries, isn't that so?

That statement pulled a laughter out of the young vampire. He shrugged and plopped to sit on the edge of the open coffin, contemplating both their faces with a vague smile, as they both watched him.

- You should know pretty well, such a miserable thing. - He said in amusement, almost irradiating warmth. - You're even older than us. - He added, looking away from them to inspect the inside of the coffin. He reached out to absently caress the velvety, silky padding, his tongue flickering on his lips as if he was eager to lay down.

- You are perfectly right, my lord. - Replied Hikari, with a measuredly amused tone, his smile widening slowly on his lips. - About five centuries of life grant one a certain deep knowledge of the world surrounding them.

- Stop talking. My head hurts. - Interrupted them Kenjii, with an half smile on his face, as if amused by his own words.

- You're the one to talk. - Laughed his younger brother, looking at him out of the corner of the eye, as the blond vampire finished brushing his hair. - Only a few days ago you'd go outside to hunt with that priest, and whenever you'd come back I was the one that had to hear you.

He watched Kenjii completely turn his head towards him, and waving one hand, as if trying to drop the subject. - If you waste your time listening, perhaps that's because you like it, Kirious. - He said in a chuckle, with a fake sheepish smile on his thin lips.

The younger vampire fell quiet, widening his blue-gray eyes only slightly while, behind him, the other vampire let out another small laugh, before leaning down to stroke Kenjii's ear with his lips.

- It is actually rather difficult not to hear you. - He said, with lascivious amusement.

Kenjii turned to glance at the emerald irids. He reached up to stroke his cheek, before moving one finger over it so quickly, it cut out a small wound on it, and the cheek immediately let out a trickle of blood, that Kenjii licked away from his fingers as he brought them to his mouth.

The blond vampire hadn't even flinched.

- You'll agree then that Tegian truly has a wonderful voice, won't you? - He asked, as amused as him.

The blond vampire nodded slowly, standing up. - Undoubtedly. - He agreed, ignoring the blood running down his neck. - Although your voice haunted with rapture is by far much more exciting, my lord.

An exquisite chuckle escaped Kenjii's lips. It had a certain young and feminine tone. - You can listen as much as you please to my voice. - He replied, letting out a small languid moan when the vampire's fangs stroked his neck. - But it will never be screaming for you.

- Just listening will do for me. - On silent consent of his master, his fingers started to dance over the bare skin of Kenjii's neck.

Kirious had been witnessing the whole scene with absolute lack of interest, still sitting on the edge of his coffin, as if waiting for something. He soon noticed his brother's gaze, who interrupted their servant's caressing with a displeased movement of his hand, before they'd grow overly audacious.

- Leave us alone, Hikari. - He said, perhaps perceiving something in the air.

The blond vampire bowed his head and stepped back to the door, under the careful gaze of both creatures, one of them absently drumming his fingers on the bier's edge. He gave one last reverence before closing the wooden door behind, leaving the two brothers alone, staring at each other.

The air in the room was filled with a fleeting miasma of melancholy, yet as dense as smoke and fog twisting together in thin trails slithering around them before fading and reforming to create a new dance. They looked into each other's eyes intensely, and the younger one rubbed his neck nonchalantly, one eyebrow twitching in curiosity. He had seen a sparkle in his brother's eyes, something that would not bode well.

He had the same thin veil of terrifying mystery he had seen around him ten years before, when he still was unaware of the priest's identity and Kenjii's reasons to chase him. He started to worry that his brother could be thinking of something else at that moment. That's why he decided to focus his concentration on something else, looking at his right hand with distracted awareness, palm first, then the back.

- You know, I've always wondered what could you find so amusing in bedding someone of your same sex. - He snapped, shrugging. - Since when that priest appeared, you've been looking almost… human.

The smile that formed on the chestnut-haired vampire's lips irritated him even more, as he turned to look at him. - I consider that a compliment, Kirious. - He said joylessly, yet amused by that statement. - To me, I'm nothing but a monster.

The tone of his voice radically changed, becoming somewhat muffled. Almost nostalgic, Kirious could've sworn that.

- When I'm with him, the line separating lust and bloodlust is very thin. - He confessed, turning his head to observe the lit candles on the small tables. Two vampires entered again, carrying two cups in their hands. They put one on the small table next to the young vampire's grave, and handed the other to the older brother with a bow, before leaving.

Kirious glanced at the cup and its content, reaching out to pick it up and take but a single sip, grimacing. He immediately put it down with a sarcastic smile, scanning his brother.

- It's always a pleasure to learn so many details of your so called sexual life. - He said with irony, letting out a small yawn. - At least you've got someone to amuse yourself with. I've drained my own out like last week.

He was startled by an unexpected hearted laughter bursting from his brother's chest, a laughter that vibrated against the stone walls, echoing ominously.

- That's because you keep letting the only one that could possibly outlive your performances run away. - He said with a snicker. - But you'll see… Once my plan will be set to motion, everything will come to an end… everything. - He whispered with cruelty, smiling in satisfaction. - Our uncle's folly, as well as the madness of those hunters.

- You seriously plan to turn his army against him, mo bhràthair? - He asked with a frown, going back to his language, as he'd often do when afraid to be heard. - Chan eil e gòrach, ar uncàil, e-fhèin tuig ro mhath [3]…

His threatening tone managed only to make him laugh more, and he raised two fingers to his lips to intimate silence, interrupting him. The candle flames shook slightly and then raised up to the floor, the lanterns going completely off, leaving nothing but the piercing smell of burned oil.

Kenjii turned to look at his brother's ferocious expression for ever-lasting moments, before he'd stand up and walk to the door with a confident pace, ready to let himself drown in the diurnal slumber. He rested one hand suggestively on the doorknob, turning slightly to look at him one last time over his shoulder.

- Remember… It's a secret.

––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
[1] What do you want, Kenjii? (Bastokan)
[2] I want a kiss (Bastokan)
[3] Our uncle is not a fool, he knows all too well… (Bastokan)

Son of Darkness: Act VIII - The Escape

To the other side of the Island, 892 C.E

It was a dark, stormy night. Like the ones in a good horror story.

Thunders were tearing up the sky, lighting it as clear as day, the tree branches rustled ominously against the furious wind, causing the window shutters to slam against the walls throughout the town streets.

Only one house was filled with a feeble candle light, in an attempt to preserve some intimacy that the three figures sitting in an office inside it seemed to require. Their voices were but whispers in the darkness, muttering forbidden words that only a few could hear or understand.

One of them was holding a smoking mug in his hands, listening in respectful silence, as if afraid to open his mouth and interrupt that obscure ritual. A soft iron clink echoed in the room, followed almost immediately by the noise of other glasses being gracefully placed to rest on the wooden table. Other hands reached out to grab them and take their edges to their mouths and sip briefly, stopping for a moment the talk that had been going for over a couple hours.

Washed out blue-gray eyes stopped on one of their faces, that was showing an unknown anxiety.

His look was quickly returned, before the mug was put back on the table; two strict purple eyes focused on the worried frown on Mayor Renford's face.

The mithra sighed, lowering her eyelids. - What you've told us makes no sense. - She said at last, with a low, deep voice that seemed to cut through the silence in the house.

Some nervous shifting, then another voice risen in the nocturnal quietness, interrupted only by the drumming of the rain against the windows.

- I struggled to believe it myself, until what we just spoke about was shown clearly before my eyes. - Was the calm answer to that statement, although his tone had seemed slightly nervous and rushy.

- We're not calling you a liar, but you must understand our perplexity.

More silence followed those words. The people in the room seemed to focus with unusual attention on the liquor filling the mugs and glasses, as if nothing else of interest surrounded them.

Another sigh escaped the thin mithran lips, before those mystical eyes revealed themselves again. Her white hair with a purple shade on its reflections was brushed backwards, revealing little thin white scars running to the side of her face, almost blending with the tribal tattoos on her cheeks.

- Such phenomenon is as rare as impossible. - She continued, her tone growing cold. - Perhaps you are just being affected by the typical paranoia of your ancestors, Ahhad.

The cloaked man jumped slightly, but he was good enough to hide it. - I'd appreciate if you stopped using my name while in town, Garonne. - Said the Mayor, without parting his blue-gray eyes from the scarred face of his interlocutor. - You may call me paranoid, but I have good reasons to be so. - He paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words. - I was as perplexed as you two, but I know what I saw. That child was not human.

- And so why did you take him with you in your family?

The sudden question was from the third figure, the man who had kept ominously quiet during the whole meeting. The Mayor's eyes seemed to roll in nervousness for a moment.

- At first, because of his similar appearance, my first thought had been to kill him. - He confessed, feeling like a worm almost immediately. He knew they wouldn't have thought the same, but that's how he felt.

A sarcastic chuckle quickly filled the room, much like a gentle breeze. The Mithra called Garonne had let out that brief glimpse of emotion.

- You should've. - She said firmly, no hesitation in her calm voice. Almost the voice of a mannequin. And when she'd wear her mask as a Hunter, completely covering her skin, she might've as well been mistaken for one.

The Mayor shook his head, bowing it. - He's about as old as my son. - He added joylessly. - That's why I hesitated.

- This softness of yours will be your death one day, Renford. - She purposefully marked her tone on his fake name, as if mocking him.

But he paid it no mind, deciding to ignore that sarcasm. - I'm not here to ask you life advice. - He snapped. - I want to know if there's a way to prevent disgrace to fall over him and us.

Moments filled with silence followed. Somewhere, just out of town, a lightning struck, preceded by a powerful rumble, the sky itself seeming to be holding its breath before rain would continue falling in a downpour again.

- I can't help you on that. - He heard her finally say. - All I'm sure about is that if you killed him now, you may save us some trouble in the future. You've given that child way too much time already.

- I've already told you I don't intend to do that.

- Then enjoy this act of happiness with your two sons. But don't come to me later to tell me I hadn't warned you.

She left with those mere words, that could've meant everything or nothing. Back in the inn where he had booked a room, after walking through the wet streets along half the small city, still scratched by the wind, he waited for the next day to come with a sort of bizarre fear. He would've tried to find a solution even though he couldn't see one. He promised to himself he would've saved that child at all costs.

He was too important to him.





The day had grown gloomy, saturated with rain. The sun was weakly peeking between the clouds over the small town, lighting the layout of the houses and buildings, feebly shedding light on the cobbled streets and the dew drops on the surrounding vegetation, as bakers and merchants walked around, continuing on their day in tranquility.

It hadn't started to rain yet, but as usual around there, the humidity in the air was substantial, and the glass windows of the small shops to the sides of the main street were slightly steamed up, although one could still see the inside, with their shopkeepers busy behind the counters to serve the few clients of that late afternoon.

The smell of warm bread filled the air, mixing with the sweet scent of wine and humid grass, sneaking around the streets and into the houses, as the inhabitants started to work on their dinner. The few citizens living in the village had left in the early morning with mattocks and hay hats to protect their heads from the potential sunlight, walking in the small streets to head to their fields and vineyards.

The innkeepers had been open for business for a while now, and several men filled their tables, quietly muttering to each other about the events of last night. There was a rumor in town about frightening creatures wracking havoc, bringing death and despair in the outskirts of the city, but people were skeptical about their return.

But some had also heard word from those who had seen them with their own eyes the past few days: someone said to have spotted them in the fields, someone else claimed that they had been tranquilly wandering the dark streets without making any noise.

There were rumors of apparitions, and ghosts, of screams coming from the old abandoned Church out of the village, of blood stains found between the bushes. The rumors had always been quickly suppressed by the Mayor, who seemed determined to not let any kind of information out. And yet many people still brought up the topic, especially because of the young Ayuki's devastated look and the words she'd mutter continuously since when something had happened to her.

She had refused to talk to anyone about what she had witnessed, but she'd keep murmuring "He's back." unable to give whatsoever explanation even to the kindest soul that had tried to comfort her. And so, despite the strict order to avoid discussing it, the topic discussed by the man in the inn was the very same.

Vampires.

It was almost 7 P.M. that day, and the main hall of the inn was crowded, feeling warm and noisy, a comforting shelter for whoever had thought to escape the potential downpour, or whoever felt like gossiping about creatures of night.

The inn would often host all kinds of patrons, from simpletons entertaining themselves with a drink alongside their friends, to foreigners whispering in the corners about that strange situation, careful not to be overheard.

When the inn's door opened for the umpteenth time, many heads turned to look curiously at who had entered, and silence fell in the room. The newcomer walked his way through with his escort, cutting through the crowd of the inn, heading straight to his favorite table, along with his companion. He looked around from behind his glasses at the people in the hall, almost trying to look inside them. Then he pushed the glasses up with an irritated motion of his hand, heading to the counter before sitting, paying them no further mind.

The innkeeper looked at him with an amused frown, while washing one of the glasses absently. - The usual, Mayor? - He sneered, receiving an absent blue-gray gaze.

The man shrugged, and nodded with a joyless smile. - Please, tell Kaolla to bring something warm. - He said instead, looking at the other man out of the corner of the eye, watching him sit down at their table. - It's freezing outside, we really need it.

- Coming right up. - Replied the innkeeper, watching him walk back to the table and sit in front of the black-haired guard, who was already sipping from a flask he had pulled out of his coat.

They remained in silence until a young mithran girl with slightly shorter white hair than Ayuki came, carrying a small tray with food in about ten minutes. For a while they focused on the low murmurs overlapping to the other side of the inn, where a rather bulky man was waving irritatedly one muscular hand towards two other man who were listening to him carefully, glancing at each other from time to time.

They focused back on the plates in front of them, both digging their spoons in it almost simultaneously.

- So what now? - Asked the black-haired man, granting his porridge nothing but small, reluctant bites. A question the Mayor had been asking himself since that morning, that no one else but Roy had dared to ask until then.

He studied him in silence, then he shrugged. - I really have no idea. - He said calmly, dipping one piece of bread in his dish, before biting it. - We could try force him to talk, but I doubt that's the best solution.

- There is no best solution, actually. - Pointed out the alchemist, looking at his food with poor interest. He sighed bitterly, as the kind warmth of the fire heating the hall slowly started to affect him too. He absently reached out to grab the wine brick and fill his glass, drinking a long sip as he looked around the tavern, watching some other people walk in, wrapped in dark and wet coats. As he put it back down, he resumed to eat slowly, giving a couple brief glances at the Mayor.

A bizarre tension had created around them since that morning, and it seemed to be rippling more and more into a terrible wave.

- Do you care to explain why you care to keep him alive? - He whispered, his voice clear and still despite the buzzing roaming in the inn. - You won't kill him, yet you'd torture him? Your logic makes no sense. It's inhuman.

Absently playing with the soup still filling his place, Peb took a long sigh and abandoned his spoon, looking around before staring at him carefully.

- I believed him dead, ten years ago, Roy. - He murmured quietly, under his breath, shaking his head weakly. - When I saw him again… I don't know how I felt. Whatever he is now, I could never manage to shoot him in the heard and watch him turn into dust before my eyes.

- You realize you're only delaying what is bound to happen, don't you? - Replied the black-haired man, almost matter-of-factly, to then stare at the vacuous gaze of his friend in silence, waiting for an answer, or at least a counter.

Yet he didn't speak for a while; they only looked at each other from time to time, as they took their time to empty their plates as the warmth and low bruise of the people in there pleasantly encircled them.

Roy then took a long breath, looking around before reaching to a pocket in his coat for his usual flask, only to find a few empty vials. He really needed a dose.

- Fuck. - He cursed under his breath, letting the thin vials drop back in the pocket. He tilted his head backwards, leaning tiredly against the backrest of his chair, huffing almost loudly, and folding arms. With a snort, he pulled out a small silver lighter, a little memento from his father, that Peb had seen him playing with during his most stressful moments: he liked to make it clack open repeatedly, starting a small flame from it.

A flame that didn't lit.

He tossed it on the table in an irritated fit and looked up in exasperation.

- Out of gas, too. - He whined, looking down at him out of the corner of the eye as Peb arched an eyebrow with irony.

Peb waved one hand and fixed his glasses over the bridge of his nose again. Soon enough, he focused absently on his dish again, playing with the porridge in the bowl with no enthusiasm, before pushing it away and reaching out to fill a glass with wine. He downed it in one gulp, wondering if things would've been different, if he would've been able to change everything ten years before, knowing what he was. He wouldn't have let his father wander alone in the forest, first and foremost. He would've helped him get rid of those monsters.

And, especially, his friend and brother wouldn't have mate that fate.

Who could tell if he would've been able to bring him back to the person he once was. The man who would get flustered with him whenever he'd try to bring up topics that were forbidden by his strict education.

Another feeble sigh escaped his lips, just a few seconds before the inn's door opened again, welcoming a white-haired adult Mithra woman and another man, who they recognized as Marekh soon as he approached further. He waved at them absently, moving a chair to sit down as well.

- Evening, ladies. - He said joylessly, giving a vaguely interested glance at the glasses filled with wine. He didn't even ask, and grabbed the one that had belonged to the black-haired man, downing it before his annoyed glare, as Roy arched one of his well-lined eyebrows.

- Please, Marekh, serve yourself. - He said sarcastically, resting one elbow on the table's edge. The chestnut-haired man glanced at him, and licked his own lips after putting down the glass, relaxing against the backrest.

- Thanks, I really needed that. - He snapped back ironically, gaining a glare to which he paid no mind. - Enough jabbering, anyways. I think you owe me a few explanations. - He added, lowering his tone so that the others couldn't hear.

The two men looked at each other in a way that could've meant anything. But it was the Mayor to speak, after another long sigh.

- You've seen well who we're holding locked up, right? - He whispered, leaning slightly towards him.

Marekh gave a nervous nod, glancing around to make sure everybody would be minding their own business. - That's what I can't get… How can it be truly him? - He asked.

- I can't find a plausible answer to that myself. - Answered Peb, shrugging. - All I know is that he could be of some help to us.

- He's a vampire, Peb. - He pointed out with veiled sarcasm. - How is that of any help? All he can do is kill us, not help us.

- That's what I've been telling him over and over too. - Intervened Roy, retrieving his glass to fill it with more wine. The Mayor paid him little mind, only giving him an admonishing glare.

- He knows where the others are resting. - He explained steadily to Marekh. - There are times when he seems lost, and others when he doesn't even sound human; but he knows something.

- That doesn't mean he'd tell you though, right? - replied Marekh, shaking his head slightly.

Peb sat in silence, his gaze pointed at his half-empty glass. He forced himself to eat some more, if only to gulp down a few bites of bread, avoiding eye contact of both the men and the mithra, showing clear uneasiness.

- It's all that priest's fault. - Commented Roy with an absent gaze, as if talking to himself.

Peb instantly stood up at those words. He glared at the alchemist with an undecipherable gaze, his jaw stiff. - For the Goddess's sake, Roy! Mirror has no fault! - He exclaimed, catching the attention of many men in the hall.

They started to mutter between themselves, glancing at them from time to time, probably wondering why the dead… well, known-to-be dead… priest's name had been coming out of the Mayor's mouth after so many years.

Roy warned him with a glare, before scowling at all the others in the hall, who were quick to turn around and act like nothing had happened.

- Peb, sit down. - He almost ordered that. - Try and keep your cool blood; to yell will do you no good.

The Mayor tried to suppress his nervousness. Then he slowly nodded, and sat back down, letting his hands rest on his lap. He looked at them for several minutes, before sighing for the umpteenth time that evening, that day, that week…

- You're right; forgive me. - He said with a pained expression. - But I can't stand that he's getting blamed for something I caused.

The three looked at him in confusion, perhaps with compassion, hesitant words clearly pending from their lips. One of them gulped, resting both hands on the table's edge before the Mayor continued his monologue.

- I should've gone with him to stop him; I shouldn't have let him go alone. - He murmured, in a whisper. - It's only my fault that those monsters got him. Even my father suffered an horrible death because of my ignorance.

- Don't beat yourself like that, Renford. - Admonished him Marekh, frowning with something that could've been concern, well-hidden behind his usual nonchalant and annoyed expression. - You couldn't know what you were, back then.

- That is not a good enough excuse.

That being said, nobody spoke anymore. All they did was focusing on their food and wine, each thinking throughly about their next move. The truth was, neither of them knew what to do. Would it have been easier to kill them, had they learned where their lair was? Or would they have died themselves at the hands of those immortal fiends?

Soon enough, they decided to not think about it any further for that night, and focused back on their dinner. Marekh had ordered something to eat from the waitress to break that oppressing atmosphere around the table. They couldn't exactly tell how long they sat in the warmth of the small in, but when they finally walked outside, they could see the sky had grown cloudy, and rain was falling mercilessly over them.

The air seemed ready to fill with fog, which had already begun to roll in the valley from the northern peaks. The people in the streets and the market quickly scattered in a low murmuring sound, as water quickly started to run down the canals and wash the streets, filling the air with a scent of humidity and cleanness, despite the roaring rumbles taking over any other sound around.

The people in delay tried to take shelter under the small porches of the other houses, trying to dodge the water rivulets and pools that had quickly started to form. He, instead, was heading with Roy and Marekh towards the small muddy road, covering himself with nothing but his soaked coat. Hae had walked back to the orphanage in her care. She wanted to stay close to her children.

For a few minutes they were accompanied by a dog also seeking for a shelter, darting like a dark shadow before their eyes to disappear towards some unknown part of the village. Glancing at his companions, Peb covered his head with one hand, feeling his hair soaked and sticking against his forehead, water dripping down his neck and into his shirt, giving him continuous shivers on his back. Coughing and sneezing, he rubbed his nose with one wet, humid hand, only to find his face even more wet than before. He could even hear the water soaking his shoes. He had never faced such a downpour before.

Shaking, their clothes completely soaked, they finally arrived before the great doors of the Abbey, standing gloomy and dreadful in that dark twilight, as sinister as the mansion they had explored days before. As they entered, they found out the rain had flooded the marble floor, mixing with the colorful glass that had shattered that morning, and that was now dangerously streaming inside the Church. The great altar and the statue were completely humid, both resembling small waterfalls lazily pouring down water, forming pools around them.

Feeling his heart jumping up to his throat at the thought of another meeting with the vampire, Peb motioned to the others to follow him as quietly as possible, although he knew all too well that cautiousness would've been pointless. He who had the resemblance of his brother was able to read people's minds, and he was ready to bet he could hear them just fine.

But they stopped soon as they approached further to the benches to the right and left sides of the great hall, their eyes wide and shocked. Roy quickly trotted to the first line of benches, freezing on the spot as he found the torn-up ropes hanging from the bench and laying on the marble floor.

- Shit! - Cursed the alchemist, running one hand in his hair angrily, messing them and causing water drops to rain down his face. - That vampire's gone!

Peb and Marekh quickly approached, speechless as they looked around with anxiety and surprise, looking aimlessly for the braided man. Their eyes wandered in every corner of the Church, scanning over columns and looking up to check the naves, trying to catch the glimpse of a movement, a shadow darker than the others. But there was nothing there. Absolutely nothing.

Marekh's attention went anxiously back to Peb's face, and Roy's, who had knelt down to pick up the ropes and was staring at them with an undecipherable gaze, as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

- How the hell did he make it? - He asked, well aware that his two companions were missing a worthy answer just as he was.

Silence took over for never-ending minutes, with nothing to fill the void but the insisting flowing of the rain and the rumbles coming from somewhere far away. Standing still, they could do nothing but look around the area surrounding them, glancing from time to time at each other's pitiful state, each covered in rivulets still dripping from their hair and face.

Then, suddenly, a quiet laughter echoed amongst the vast galleries of the chapel, soon enough exploding in a tumult of water and shattered glasses. Even the dome above their heads turned into shining crystal rain, forcing them to cover their heads with their arms as the glass dust invested them.

The eyes of the three men darted upwards soon as the rain ended, and there they saw him: between the architrave and the gallery, crouched like a big cat. He was showing a sensual, bewitching smile, his brown bangs and braid falling wet on his face and shoulder, the light shirt that he worn had glued against his skin, showing off the lean muscles he had built in those years.

His irids and orbits were completely dark, as if he was staring at them with two chunks of coal, empty and lifeless, as another feeble chuckle escaped from his pale lips, floating lightly in the air. That laughter bewitched them all, as he sad nonchalantly on the gallery.

Keeping his hands on its edge, he supported his weight with absolutely no effort, crossing legs and lovely tilting his head to one side, on the shoulder. Like a child about to start a tranquil game.

- Did you lose someone, by chance? - He asked with a charming voice, rising one arm tiredly to move his braid on his back, so that it wouldn't bother him.

Everyone felt their heart race faster as they stared at him. And as he smelled their fear, mixed with shock, the vampire couldn't help but laugh again. That crystal laughter danced in the chapel, up to the altar, where he leaped with a feline jump, a black figure as still as the marble statue behind him. But what made that scene only more suggestive was not just his enchanting form, but the whole union of the events unfolding before them: his hair fluctuating around his face as if alive, sweetly and lightly, as the water that had been falling from above the marble altar had stopped in a stasis, like in a portrait. Even the rain coming down from the crashed dome was still, and they could see the small crystal drops reflecting like little mirrors in those dark eyes, in his white, candid priest face.

Or rather, vampire face.

- I can play with water too, it seems~

A single sound wave originated from him and rippled the still water at the altar's feet, as if his voice had gracefully landed on its surface like a flower petal. That, thankfully, seemed to snap Peb back into his senses from that breathtaking scenery.

He dared to move a step forward, careful not to approach the altar too much. - Mirror, we just want to help you! - He exclaimed with a reassuring tone, trying to make him come down from that pedestal, to tie him back.

Yet his words seemed only to cause more hilarity in the creature. The braided man opened his arms wide, letting his muscles in clear sight, peeking from the transparent shirt adhering to his chest, grinning with growing passion as he stood up on the altar and pointed his gaze towards the great Goddess's Statue, that he seemed to not fear anymore.

- And just what could you do? - He asked with a warm, gurgling and confident voice. - What makes you believe you can save a soul such as mine? Not even the Goddess to which I had devoted myself could do it, so what may you hope to accomplish? Do you think you can substitute to Her?

- Don't say that, please!

- Peb, Peb, Peb. - Admonished him calmly the vampire, moving one finger left and right, while shaking his head. - There is something… something dark within me that I cannot understand. But when I'll manage to do it, perhaps I'll understand why they spared me, why didn't I meet the same end of the many people who have met them years past.

- Mirror.. I pray you. - Peb tried again, suppressing the urge to cry.

He had changed so much since that morning. He didn't even sound like himself.

- Do not pray me, Peb. - He said with a smile. - I am not the Goddess.

He let out another hearted laughter after that sentence. Flexing his body as if to curl up, his head unbelievably clutched in his shoulders, he then darted forward to claw the beams supporting the gallery, looking down while hanging. He laughed again as he met the shocked expression of those faces, letting his grip go completely, turning his back with open arms. Before his body could crash on the floor, he turned and landed on his feet, crouched down right at the center of their group.

The floor had cracked and lifted at the impact, breaking most of the floor and forcing the men to rapidly jerk backwards to avoid flying shards to wound them, while the vampire seemed unscathed. He looked at them with innocent, yet empty dark brown eyes, before completely fading out of their sight as if swallowed into darkness itself.

Finally outside, he deeply inhaled the scent of humidity surrounding him and the vegetation, the smell of soil wet with rain, before quickly moving with a graceful leap over one of the wooden roofs of the modest houses of the village, favored by the darkness towering in the sky above.

A pleased smile formed on his lips, as he let his brown gaze run on the layout of that village, that felt vaguely familiar to him. Beneath him came the voices of the men who had just lost his tracks. He laughed at the words they would spell and that he could perfectly hear as if he had been standing right to their side.

He plopped down to sit on the roof, amused, his head slightly supported by one hand as the other hung placidly over his knee, his dark eyes pointed down, in the streets. One of the men, the one with chestnut hair, was holding a silver gun with six barrels, and he seemed more than determined to use it, despite the clear smell of terror coming from him.

When he heard them talk about him and his Lord, he narrowed eyes, and the wooden roof under him vibrated and trembled, while he clenched one hand and lowered it to his side, biting his lower lip. The helpless impulse to jump on them and tear their throats to satiate himself with their blood was slithering evilly in his soul, but it was suppressed by that other soul, the pious one he hadn't managed to get rid of yet, and who forced him to stay put on that roof, looking at them.

- Enough. - He intimated to himself, closing his dark eyes. - Leave me alone, go away.

Yet that something pervading him wouldn't fade. He clawed one of the wooden beams, tearing it from its location with a loud crack that echoed like a bone fracturing, catching the attention of the men in the streets.

- He's up there! - He heard one of them shout, and his eyes opened back suddenly, as he stood back up just a second before a bullet hit his left arm. He bared his fangs to the gunner, seeing his face deformed in a sagacious mask.

It was the black-haired man who had been urging to shoot him down all along.

- Don't make me do things I'd regret, Roy! - He unconsciously roared, dissolving the insisting rain that yet wouldn't fall, as if he was enveloped in a bubble of steam.

He watched them plug their ears and their faces pulled in a pained expression, perhaps wounded by that inhuman scream he had let out.

Everything seemed to come and go in a flash, and another bang echoed very close to his ear. The brown pools flared up with savage fury, as he bared his fangs and flexed his whole body downwards, towards his target, who was still holding the weapon ready to fire.

He jumped down the roof and approached so fast, neither Roy nor the others could do anything; the first widened his eyes in surprise as he felt something iron-like clawing on his arm ferociously, making it bleed copiously under his blank, confused gaze.

He didn't even get the chance to scream in pain, as rapid as the strike had been. He moved his gaze abruptly watching the vampire's hand stained with his blood, and he jerked back on the ground with his gun still pointing at the creature, who was reading another attack.

Yet, unexpectedly, with another hiss and staring at everyone with those soulless eyes, he performed a firm, steady leap towards the forest, leaving them there to drown in their suffer. He dodged a branch with a gracious side stride, resuming his race with cat-like confident leaps, darting through the fronds naturally, as they only let out a slight rustling sound at his passage, as if caressed by a breeze, before gently closing behind him.

But something suddenly darted before his eyes.

He stopped suddenly and landed to the ground heavily, his hands in the humid soil, clawing it as he propped on one knee. His body shook and was invaded by shivers and spasms, the column of his throat contracting, his eyes staring blankly in the woods. He started to look around, disoriented, with one hand pressing on his temple, and he whispered unknown words to himself, confident that what he was feeling was fear.

He tried to stand back up, looking around with vacuous, distant eyes, as his gums hurt more and more, his blood pulsing against his aching temples. Then he was overwhelmed by a sharp pain to his stomach, that forced him down with a low moan of pain, clenching teeth. His head had started to hurt in a way he couldn't even describe; his abdomen seemed to twist again, and he whipped the air with one arm, shaken by violent shivers and cramps, trying to chase away the figures he saw in front of him, entities made of nothing but smoke and fog invading his eyes.

The night whispers came to him from somewhere far away, mixed with the usual voices he had been hearing for ten years now. And yet again he felt that strange pain striking his chest and neck, that stinging cold embracing him in perpetual, eternal frost, as sapphire blue pools slowly faded in from the darkness before his eyes; his arm reaching out to them, willing to grasp something that wasn't there…


- Death makes everything… more beautiful.


He snarled, feeling dizzy. He let himself fall limp to the ground, his hands clawing on the wet ground more and more, the penetrating scent of humidity filling his nostrils.

He felt like he was living that moment again.

He knew that clearing, he knew the cold embracing his body. Even the sudden taste of rust was familiar.

He was tasting his own blood!

In a panic, he glanced at his body, starting to tear away the shirt he was wearing with his claws. He scanned his gaze on every muscle, every spot of his skin, to find nothing. Not even a scratch. Only the white, marble skin wet with rain.

He breathed at his lungs' full capacity, swallowing as he let himself fall back, closing his eyelids, ignoring the wet grass under his bare back. When he slowly reopened his eyes, his heart beat had returned to be stable, and even the dizziness and that strange pain had faded. He didn't even sense the blood anymore.

He stood back on his feet, weakly, looking around in confusion. What had happened?

He shook his head, and decided to hurry and run to reach he who could've given him an answer, becoming a dark shadow darting alone in the woods, away from any human form.

Rustles and feeble nocturnal sounds risen from the underwood as he passed through, the leaves under his steps, still wet with rain, crumpled as he ran faster and faster, growing more distant to the inhabitants of the forest, that had hidden after smelling the possible danger in the air.

The thirst for blood was rising around the creature that refused to stop his race, leaping between the trees and onto the ground, as an ever-darker night engulfed everything else with its dark cape beaded with star shards.

Son of Darkness: Act IX - Shadows of Memories

Grauberg Estate, 612 C.E.

His eyelids trembled for a second before they'd flutter open. Because of sleep, his sight was all blurred, but when one of his hands touched the body occupying the right side of his bad, his eyes snapped open, registering the image of his braided partner, his lips slightly parted in a tranquil, serene expression as he slept blissfully with his hair spread over the white pillow.

Kenjii gulped and pulled away on the bed, looking at him with wide eyes.

What was he doing there, in his room, in his bed?

The room he and his father were supposed to be using for that night was on the lower floor, on the western side of the mansion, not too far from the servants' quarters.

So why was he at the upper floors?

He wanted to ask, but the idea of waking him up terrified him.

He fixed the blanket around himself to cover his night vest, feeling his throat hoarse, as he kept staring at the sleeping figure. Tegian was pleasantly relaxed, perfectly still in his bed with a small smile on his lips, the sinuous forms of his body hidden by the light blanket.

The blue-eyed boy felt a strange uneasiness as he kept watching him. Hesitantly, he reached out to the brown-haired's face to gently move a lock from his eyes, seeing his smile growing, and his head shifting slightly, as if trying to snuggle against his hand in a cat-like manner.

He looked so delicate, so frail, lost in a world of dreams only he could see. Kenjii could hardly believe to be watching the so often cheeky young man Tegian had revealed to be when awake.

He rested one elbow on the bed, resting his face on the back of his hand to give him a better look, his other hand now confident enough to dare gently smooth those thin, silky dark hair, that Tegian would so rarely untie in public.

Admittedly, that was the first time Kenjii had seen them untied and spread over his shoulders too.

He was about to lower his hand to caress one of his cheeks when he noticed Tegian's eyelids trembling and cracking open, revealing those deep, brown and gold-streaked pools in his eyes. He immediately pulled his hand away, sitting up with a speed that he didn't even recognize as his own.

A smile quickly touched Tegian's lips as he met his blue eyes, and he silently leaned up to bring his face to Kenjii's, their lips barely touching each other. He chuckled as he noticed the confused and lost gaze of his companion, who still tried to recover his usual stern expression, and he sat on the bed to tranquilly stretch. He absently rubbed the back of his neck, still with that smile on his lips, before looking at him with a sideways glance that accentuated his eyes.

- Good morning. - He said in amusement, without missing a single movement of Kenjii's facial expression, as the blue-eyed's face assumed a red tone.

Chuckling again, he stole him another chaste kiss, threading fingers between those dark chestnut bangs.

- I talked with your servants and learned that when you wake up you like to pamper yourself with some chocolate. - He chuckled against his lips, before pulling away to look in his eyes with a smile. - Much like a little girl. - He continued, more and more amused by Kenjii's expression. - I don't have any, but I could pamper you instead.

He started to gently bite his lips as if trying to tease him, pressing one hand on the back of his head to pull him to himself more, deepening the contact. However, as he saw he wouldn't return the attention, keeping stiffened like a piece of ice, he pulled away and folded arms with a frown.

- You're so cold, today. - He muttered, but his tone was still vaguely amused.

Shaking from the initial confusion, Kenjii pulled away on the bed again, looking at him as if trying to understand something he couldn't understand himself. It was a strange feeling, just like how he had felt the moment he had awakened and found him to his side.

He hadn't even managed to resist the urge to caress his hair.

He didn't want to think of what could've happened, had he tried to do something more…

Had he approached, trying to kiss him… waking him up?

He doubted he could've been able to look at him in the face at that very moment, that was certain.

It wasn't the kiss. More the act itself.

He didn't really know.

He snapped out of his thoughts only when Tegian got off the bed to stand up and stretch, and his gaze almost unwillingly fell over his body, over the well-trained shoulders covered by a light white shirt, to then run down on the toned and well-proportionate legs, and he blushed even harder as he realized the son of the winemaker had slept with him with nothing on but underwear.

- … … Your pants? - He asked weakly, receiving a glance.

Tegian looked at himself with a confused, perplexed look before arching an eyebrow at him. - Is that all you can say? - He asked, putting up a mockingly offended expression.

He actually knew all too well how shy that blue-eyed boy glaring at him was, about as shy as a sinless maiden, even.

Still pure and inviolate.

Just like him.

- B-bit you're.. in underwear! - Snapped back the other, redder and redder.

Tegian hard to repress the urge to laugh, and all he could do was arch an eyebrow again. - It's not like I'm naked. - He said with a shrug, blinking in perplexity. - And even if I was, what? You've seen yourself naked everyday.

- T-that has nothing to do with this! - Exclaimed the other, stuttering. - It's a w-well different issue!

Those words were rewarded by a smile. A sweet, amused smile. He watched the brown-haired young man moving his long hair from his face nonchalantly, smiling more. He then pulled out a lace from a pocked of his shirt, and sat down on the edge of the bed, moving the locks behind his head in mechanic, expert movements, slowly building back his usual braid.

- You're so cute when you blush like that. - He murmured sweetly, glancing at him over his shoulder, with a wink. - Say, mind to help? I always struggle on the last bit.

- … I've never…

- Oh come on. I've seen you doing it to the mane of those strange beasts your uncle bought from that faraway continent. What is that they're called again?

- Horses.

- Yeah, those. Those braids looked fine. Come on~

Kenjii frowned for a minute, then breathed and scooted closer to Tegian's back, before looking at the locks, uncertain, before gently picking them to hesitantly continue his companion's work, trying his best to copy the tightness and structure the man with gold-streaked eyes had put in the braid up to that point. From time to time, he'd glance at the mirror in the corner to the left, to spy Tegian's expression, and every time he'd see him looking into it as well, studying his reflection with a small grin.

For a while, a strange silence took over in the room, interrupted only by their breaths, although Kenjii was almost convinced to be hearing his heart pounding with an unsettling agitation in his chest. He was the first to break that quietness, staring down at his hands as he continued working on the last part of the braid.

- I'm sorry. - He whispered for no reason. - I know I'm sounding like some scared brat, I know, I'm just afraid … thinking to further expose ourselves and our feelings and… and… and it's your fault too besides! One doesn't just sneak into others' beds without a warning! - He then exclaimed, pulling slightly the braid and looking away, towards the door of his room. - What if the servants had entered to wake me up!?

He heard Tegian chuckle, and leaning backwards against his chest, until Kenjii was forced to let his hair go, as his partner looked up at him with an innocent expression.

- I just wanted to make you a surprise. - He whispered with an honeyed tone, reaching one hand up to touch Kenjii's face sweetly.

The blue-eyed boy felt shaken by a pleasant and sudden shiver that he didn't understand, but liked. He abandoned himself to that contact, closing his eyes and listening to Tegian's voice, who was murmuring one of those special melodies in the language of Tavnazia, as if trying to reassure and comfort him with that sweet dirge.

Then they both laid down on the bed, and the brown-haired man, with his unfinished braid slowly loosening again on his back, embraced the other from behind, feeling him jump slightly at the contact, and then rested one hand on his head, slowly smoothing the dark chestnut bangs, in a comforting caress.

- I wish this moment could never end. - He murmured, kissing his hair.

Kenjii smiled shyly, resting one hand on the one Tegian had sneaked over his chest.

- Yes, never.





Silence.

That was all he could hear from the moment his eyes had opened.

The stone ceiling of his dungeon room looked even vaster than it was from his laying position.

He glanced sideways slightly, staring into the soft white velvet of his coffin, and lazily reached out one arm to rest a gentle hand on its edge, helping himself to sit up in the large, comfortable casket.

When his blue eyes, still partially blurred and empty in the torpor of death, rested on the figure occupying a side of the nearby bed, they immediately grew vigil and almost curious, as his other hand mechanically moved a lock of hair off his face, to then fall limp down the bare chest and on his lap.

Lamely, he stood up and climbed out of the coffin, heading towards the other empty casket and walking past it to ultimately reach the chair where his mortal clothes had been placed and folded with reverential care; he didn't grant further looks to the presence observing him in silence.

Rather, he just pretended to be alone.

He grabbed his pair of jodhpurs and wore them nonchalantly, to then fix the shirt and the black, gold-refined waistcoat on himself.

- Why are you here, uncle? - He finally bothered to ask, barely turning towards him as he grabbed a pair of leather gloves. - It is rare of you to decide to watch over my awakening. Did Kirious not drink enough last night to sustain your morning feeding?

The older vampire abandoned his position to stand up, barely making a sound of rustling silk, to approach his nephew, his face deprived of whatsoever emotion as he stroke the dark chestnut hair. He received a blue glare that he couldn't describe, before the young vampire decided to ignore him again to wear the black Victorian-styled coat, with sleeves edged with black lace, partially hiding his hands, now wearing the dark gloves.

He wrapped a silk cloth around his neck before pointing a ruby opal to lock it, and then moved his hair out of the collar. Again his uncle stroked it, playing with the hair tips between his fingers. Kenjii's eyes narrowed, as he suppressed a shiver and the urge to sneak away.

- You are very weak, my boy. - Murmured Aaron, with veiled perfidy. - My body, too, is now about to withstand its final efforts… you are well aware of what could happen if I were unable to see my plan and vengeance fulfilled, are you not?

The other didn't reply, despite the expression that had depicted on his face. It resembled the one of a furious man, but with a glimpse of oppressing grief. His canines were pulsing, showing clearly as he released a low growl, a murmured roar feebly arising from his throat, growing second by second.

He tried to ignore the negative emotion pervading his soul, and knelt to wear the black boots with golden buckles that completed his riding suit, almost the same one he'd wear when he was still a boy.

- You mustn't touch him, uncle. - He hissed, standing back up to turn his back at him. - Don't you even dare to consider it.

One hand rested on his shoulder, forcing him to turn around and meet the hazel gaze of his uncle, of a shape so similar to his and yet so different.

- I cannot make promises on that. - He murmured in a tranquil, almost honeyed tone. His usual calm voice couldn't do anything but further unleash the young vampire's wrath.

Kenjii's hands flashed forward to grab his uncle's white shirt, almost as if he had planned to lift him from the ground, shaking him clumsily. His blue eyes reflected nothing but a troubled torment and repressed rage.

He was about to lose control.

- I will kill you with my own hands if something happens to Tegian! - He exclaimed furiously, further baring his fangs. - I will not lose him because of you again!

Passionless, the older vampire sneaked away of his nephew's hands with a snake-like movement, rising one hand and reaching his face with a loud slap that echoed in the room. He did it all in one single movement, gracious and cadenced much like a dance.

The flame of the candles resting on the modest furniture trembled for a brief instant, before dying completely and leaving nothing but a thin smoke and smell of burned wax.

They stood completely surrounded in the darkness for never-ending moments, before a lantern on the desk suddenly lit, revealing the face of his uncle pulled in an irritated frown, as he held with vice-like strength Kenjii's wrist, whose blue eyes were slightly dilated in stupor and surprise.

Aaron looked at the hand, in a claw-like shape pointing at his heart for a few moments, before looking back at the pale face of his older nephew, who seemed to be gulping in confusion. He twisted his arm behind his back, forcing him to turn his back at him, flaming with ire.

- Trying to strike me with the favor of darkness, Kenjii? - He whispered in his ear, his grip not loosening even slightly. - I suggest you abandon such foolish schemes.

Feeling rage boiling even more inside him at those words, the young man jerked out of his uncle's grip, and when he spun around the wax of the unlit candles spread furiously around them, exploding and staining the walls.

The vivid blue eyes were flaming with anger, never losing sight of the calm ones of his uncle, who kept staring at him with a wiseacre look. Then, when the nephew bared his fangs once again and charged him with a snarl, he slightly lowered his eyelids, opening them again but one instant before the white canines stroked the skin of his neck.

It was but one instant, and the young vampire found himself to the other side of the room, his back slamming against the wall, and he fell limply on the desk broken in half, with old, yellowed papers and old books falling all over around him, pushed by the incredible impact force that had been released.

The older vampire studied him for a long time, before sighing and fixing with an absent movement the ponytail that had moved over his shoulder.

- Never show me your fangs again, Kenjii. Do not threaten me. - He said severe, observing his nephew trying to stand back up, his vivid blue eyes still burning with wrath. - I've granted you a long life and eternal youth. You cannot reward me like this.

Kenjii glared at him in anger at those words. He quickly propped on his elbows as fast as he could, moving with one arm the stuff that had fallen over him and standing weakly on his legs, clenching fists.

- I didn't even want to become like this! - He immediately yelled, causing the air to spin around them as if filled with electricity.

They looked at each other for a while without a word, as the tension between them seemed literally palpable on their skin, saturated with evil.

Then Aaron decided to move his look, pointing it towards one of the small cracks, bringing his arms behind his back to clasp his hands in an absolutely tranquil demeanor. Much as if he feared no further assaults from his nephew at that moment.

- It was inevitable. After all, you are my nephew. - He said, as a small sigh escaped his lips while he absently observed the ebony casket. - All I did was sparing you from the pain of your transition, a thousand times more terribly of what I have caused you by anticipating the time.

Out of the corner of the eye, he saw the blue pools of his nephew observing him with hatred. The same gaze he had given him the day he had killed his man.

Kenjii had forgiven him many things in the past, but the break point had occurred the moment he had reached the age for his transition, when Aaron had gone to eliminate the only obstacle still keeping him tied to the world of humans.

He would've never forgotten how he had stayed next to that still body for the whole night, despairing in that downpour, refusing to return to the mansion before dawn. His uncle himself had been the one to drag him back inside, despite his attempts to stay there in that clearing, screaming his name. And he had managed to do it only because Kenjii was still weak because of his transition. Otherwise he would've needed the help of several others.

And that gaze, since then, had never abandoned him. Aaron had had to fight against that glare every night, even when he'd find himself forcing Kenjii to go out in the night to find himself some nourishment; and it reminded him of the sin he had stained himself with.

His nephew's snarl caught his attention again, snapping him out of those thoughts that were three hundred years old, and once again he saw his bared fangs.

- I don't give a damn about whatever 'time' you may have anticipated, you degenerate relative! - Snarled the youth, a rumble outside echoing his words. - Had you never returned to our mother… had you stayed hidden in the shadows that generated you, I…

- …could've lived a normal life? - Completed Aaron in his stead, his face again emotionless, his frontal bangs partially hiding his eyes. - I loved your mother, you know that. - He added, and his tone seemed almost nostalgic, despite the tiredness peeking from his eyes. - But when she learned I was a vampire she was unable to withstand the truth; her physique was jaded by illness, and it was further more when she given birth of you and your brother.

Kenjii's face became a mask of indecipherable disgust.

- Don't you dare blaming us of her death, now! - He roared, causing the air to vibrate, as well as the glass of the small windows at the very top of the wall facing outside. - You were the one who decided it'd be fun to live as a family!

That rumbling, roaring voice caused the glasses to shatter and spread everywhere, letting the water that had pooled at the feet of the mansion outside stream down in the dungeon room from the broken window in a small waterfall. Thunders and lightnings were fighting in the sky, witnessing the anger of the younger vampire.

He pressed his livid lips in a thin line, stiffening his jaw, his dark chestnut eyebrows frowning in an absolutely furious expression. They were both enveloped in the blind rage rising from the youth, causing water drops and pieces of paper to whirl around in a vortex that seemed a savage dance, cutting everything they'd touch, yet not even touching the two vampires.

Even the diamond-like shards of glass joined that powerful tornado, ripping the paper when they'd clash and stabbing into the wax of the candles, also cut by the papers wildly spinning.

His uncle sighed again, dodging tiredly a piece of paper that had threatened to land on his face, and blocking that wind so quickly, everything fell limp to the ground. Another long sigh, before he'd completely turn his back at him.

He started to cross the room nonchalantly, his hands clasping behind his back again, with a tranquil, confident pace as he observed the water drops and glass shards on the floor with absent care, before looking back at the vampire.

- Try and behave for a little while, Kenjii. - He whispered honeyed, pursing his lips in a small smile. - I have promised freedom to both you and your foolish lover, but you still haven't paid your fee.

Those last words echoed in the room like an alarming, final note of a requiem as he walked away to leave Kenjii alone, who was still panting in anger, in the attempt to calm himself down. He looked at the chaos that had taken over his mortuary room, letting out an angry roar.

He invested everything left around him with a violent whirl, causing a string of chained explosions. He didn't calm down until someone placed one hand on his shoulder, partially calming him and partially alarming him.

Weakly, he turned to look at the new person, noticing two Elvaan vampires stepping back and formally bowing with one hand on their chests.

- Please forgive our irruption in your room, My Lord. - Said one of the two, moving a black lock of hair from his just-as-black eyes, looking up slightly to then step back.

- It was your uncle that sent us. - Added the woman, bowing her sinuous body.

Taking a full breath, the hume waved off the matter, smiling bitterly as he fixed his clothes, letting a sparkle of light of the dying thunder reflect on his fangs. - You've been away for over half a century, and you still obey to him. - He said with sarcasm, unable to hide the bitterness that statement had caused him. - I'm sick and tired of this story.

- I understand all too well, My Lord. - Replied the man calmly, receiving a green glance from the woman next to him.

- Just don't forget your duty. - Said the Hume, his tone calmer.

He watched them out of the eye corner as he fixed his hair; the male vampire bowed his head in reverence, with a sinister sparkle in his eyes.

- I take it very seriously, My Lord. - His voice was but a murmur.

A blue glance shun in his direction, before Kenjii looked at the floor with a smile that promised no good. - We will not have another chance if we don't manage to catch him off-guard, Etadial, keep that in mind. - He whispered with an honeyed, dense voice. - If we give him the time to call the others, he will spare no one. - He added, and his voice grew as gurgling as the water of a stream.

- We are perfectly aware. - Said the red-haired woman, stepping in the conversation steadily. - If you will allow us, we will retrieve the prey ourselves.

- You must not worry about that, Saerun. - Murmured the youth, lifting his sapphire gaze to meet her emerald one. - I've already sent someone else.

- As you wish, My Lord. - Replied the creature, bowing her head again, the side lock of crimson hair tied to the left side of her face swung slightly at the movement.

- Very well. - He said, before walking to the door. - You take care of my bed, Saerun. - He added glancing at her, as he exited his room to slowly walk up from the bowels of the earth, followed by the other vampire.

Both of them, once back in the large entrance of the mansion, found the others gathered there, and then they went up the stairs, heading to the chambers of their master.

The younger of them was sitting on the staircase with his chin resting on the palm of his hand, and looked up in his direction with an ironic smile.

- Are you seriously planning to go see our uncle? - He chuckled, addressing to the older brother. He received a glare, before Kenjii continued walking, not bothering to reply.

He was climbing on the last steps, followed by the vampire scanning with narrowed eyes the faces of everyone, but he had to stop when he felt one hand grabbing on his dark trousers.

He looked down at him with an arched eyebrow. - Let me go, Kirious. - He imposed, with irony voice.

The other's grip tightened, and he shook his head. He knew what his brother was up to at that moment. And he knew all too well what the consequences would've been. For some reason, both the perspectives of Kenjii's success and failure were unpleasant to him.

It wasn't all about Kenjii and their uncle, despite what they thought. Kirious knew that fight between them could've caused troubles to his goal.

And a whispering, annoying voice in his head insisted that it was about her too.

"You want to give her the chance to kill him herself. I guess a ring is just too boring of a gift for a three-hundred years old?"

His face abandoned any trace of amusement, and became an undecipherable mask.

- No, Kenjii. - He snapped. - I'm trying to not let you get killed.

With an angry growl, Kenjii knelt down to jerk his trousers free, forcing him to let go rudely. Silence had fallen between the other vampires, who were looking at them in complete attention, keeping a respectful, wary silence.

He was about to admonish them all and reply to his brother when one of the oak doors of the mansion suddenly slammed open, banging against the wall. Frowning in confusion, everyone turned at the same time, staring at the soaked figure of the braided vampire, his chest bare and lighted by the fading thunders in the sky behind him.

Cold and emotionless brown eyes fell on the figure of the youth on the marble staircase, before a set of white fangs shun ominously between Mirror's parting lips.