A/N: This is my first fanfiction, so please let me know what you think of it. It's rated teen for some swearing and possible future scenes between Sorin and Kaelynn.

I do not own Magic: the Gathering or any of its characters, settings, or plots. I do own my own plot bunnies and OCs.

Thanks for reading! Please review!

There were no less than ten and no more than fifteen by Kaelynn's count. It would be difficult to take them on herself, to be sure, but that was just what she deserved for her sheer stupidity in coming to the forest so carelessly that day anyway. Had there been a reason for it? Absolutely. A good enough reason to warrant her not taking any precautions save for the always present blessed blade strapped to her leg? No such excuse even existed.

The ever present voice of reason that had taken to sounding like her brother immediately began scolding her for not heeding it earlier. If you die today, it will be entirely your own fault.

Kaelynn scowled, ignoring the annoying little voice as she quickened her pace. There was still a possibility that she could reach home before they attacked. Just as the thought crossed her mind, a pair of the vampires split off from the rest of the coven that had been flanking her, moving in front of her path. Well, forget that then; this fight was entirely unavoidable.

As though reading her mind, one of the feral monsters broke rank and charged right at her at inhuman speeds.

Moving before it could reach her, she ripped the blade from where it was strapped against the outside of her right calf and pulled it up in time to plunge it into the eye of the approaching beast, ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach as blood splattered over her clothes and face. It had been self defense, and this was a monster. Guilt should be the last thing that she was feeling.

Uncertain if the one she'd just killed was the leader or just a pawn who had let hunger override his better sense, Kaelynn broke into a jog, fleeing the rest of her attackers despite having little hope of actually outrunning them. They were closing in now, and she was forced to quicken her pace even further. Unfortunately, it looked like while she had been right in her estimation, it was towards the higher end. There were fourteen or fifteen vampires rushing alongside her, just waiting to attack. She was going to die.

Seems rather congruous that you should die on this exact date, don't you think?

Ignoring her guilt, she fought with all that she had, the same as she had exactly one year ago the last time she had been in these woods being attacked by a vampire coven. One rushed her and she slashed his chest, his momentum carrying him to her feet as she continued moving. Three more fell to her blade one by one, but then another trio approached her together, spelling certain doom.

"Avacyn protect my soul," Kaelynn whispered to the night sky, not honestly believing that her request would be granted, when suddenly a wave of pure white energy radiated out from the surrounding trees, obliterating the attacking vampires. Those who remained fled from the onslaught of white mana leave her standing alone in the middle of the woods with a blessed blade that was dripping blood to the ground.

Stunned beyond belief at the miraculous, inexplicable event that had spared her once more when she by all rights should have died, Kaelynn fell to her knees and raised her head to the Archangel in thanksgiving tempered by a feeling of resentment that she tried to keep buried.

Immediately after her prayer of thanks, she rose and hurried back to her home, fearful of getting caught in yet another attack. After all, whatever mysterious power had saved her life this time, she certainly couldn't expect that sort of luck to hold.

As soon as the door to the small hut her brother had built for the two of them closed behind her with a resounding click, Kaelynn slid down to the floor with her back against the wood, leaning her head back against the cold, lifeless barrier between her and the rest of the world.

She was tired, which was understandable, after all, since killing five vampires like that wasn't an easy feat, even for those within the Church. Every time she tried to thank Kaleb for the training, however, he was always insufferable for a time, particularly when it saved her life. The thought brought a dim smile to her face, memories of their time together on the rare occasions he was free from his obligations within the Church giving her the strength to pull herself to her feet.

A bucket of water used for cleaning was resting on a small shelf, and she used it to wash the blade of the gore and blood from slaughtering those vampires. Now that she was no longer filled with adrenaline and in a life-threatening situation, she felt the guilt that had earlier been suppressed come to the surface of her mind.

She shouldn't feel guilty. After everything that the vampires had done to her, all they had taken, it should be easy for her to kill them, but it wasn't. That was Kaleb's forte, killing fiends, protecting Innistrad, working for the Church; she had never been cut out for it, despite the fact that he claimed she was a natural. She was a healer; it wasn't just her duty or her gift, it was truly what and who she was. She would always help those who needed it, whether they were poor and helpless or rich and powerful yet still in need of a friend.

Kaleb often used to tell her that she was a shapeshifter in some ways; she became whatever people needed her to be. Though she had originally taken it as a compliment, later conversations had revealed that he worried about her; worried that perhaps in becoming what everyone else always needed that perhaps she was loosing herself. At the time, she had brushed it away, but there were times when she wondered. Though perhaps it was better if she lost herself entirely. Maybe it would all be easier if she were just what was needed by others.

Sighing heavily, she finished rinsing her brother's favorite blessed blade and returned it to the concealed sheath on her leg, turning her mind to a more interesting conundrum. Namely, who had saved her? Though she had thanked Avacyn for the salvation, the Archangel herself certainly could not have been the one to save her. Not only was Kaelynn no one in the grand scheme of things, but surely Avacyn's presence would have been noticeable and unmistakably her. No, this was someone considerably more discreet, which also happened to rule out the Church. While they might have saved her, they would have come forth and declared themselves, hoping that the act would inspire her to donate or come and work for them; not that such a thing would ever happen.

Then who? And perhaps more importantly, why? This was the second time fate had attempted to kill her on this same exact day of the year, and also the second time she had been saved in a way that was beyond reason. She was meant to be dead and a part of her cursed both the Archangel, Avacyn forgive her, and her savior for the act. Fate would just keep trying until it suceeded.

Kaelynn sighed faintly and returned to her position on the floor leaning back against the door, her only protection from the monsters of her world. It was such a thin, easily overwhelmed defense, yet, as she laid there, her eyes fell shut and she drifted off to sleep.

0-0-0-0-0

Sorin's aimless wandering through the forest of Innistrad had been rather violently disrupted, and now he couldn't cleanse the young woman from his mind.

She had been crouching over a patch of ground that seemed rather inconspicuous, but there was clearly a reason for her presence there. Her cream dress had been dragging in the dirt, but she hadn't seemed to care, even as she tossed her long, thick brunette hair back from her face. The eyes peering forth from that intense, pale face had been a true emerald color, the brightest green he had ever seen on any human, and human she most certainly had been. He had been able to hear her pulse from several yards away, marking her as the only human foolish enough to be wandering about Innistrad's forests at night.

His first impression of her had been that she was unarmed, but she had quickly proven him wrong about that, fighting off an entire coven. Not without help, of course, and therein lie the source of his troubles. There was nothing immensely special about the girl. Certainly, she was lovely- for a human, but Sorin had long been immune to the outward beauties of the body. No, the reason her haunting form wouldn't flee his mind had little to do with her actions and far more to do with his own.

Watching her fight had certainly been entrancing, but the problems had started when he had begun to dread her death. They had culminated when he had saved her. And why? That was a question to which he couldn't seem to find the answer.

It was true, she reminded him of his most perfect creation, his blessed Archangel, but it shouldn't have been his instinct to save Avacyn either. Only it was, and that was more than a little disturbing. His actions earlier that day had been instinctual; he had acted without thinking. Such a thing was entirely unacceptable, and the entire event had very much disrupted what was meant to be some rare and peaceful time when he honestly had no where better to be than his home plane.

He took a deep breath, doing his best to purge the image of the woman from his mind. After all, he still had time to enjoy on this plane and he would until Avacyn reported back to him with news about the object he sought- the Purest Soul, an ancient artifact said to have immense restorative power and supposedly shielded somewhere on Innistrad. His reasons for wanting it were quite simple- if it were taken into the Blind Eternities and activated, it would reverse the effects of the Mending, healing the Planewalker's Spark and restoring unto them their god-like powers. Most importantly, it would put Sorin back on an even footing with that bloody overgrown lizard.

Bolas had his own plans to restore his power, Sorin was sure, which is what made his quest time sensitive. Fortunately or not, however, the fastest way to locate the artifact was to send his obedient angelic creation to seek out objects of pure righteousness across the plane. Until she returned to him with a report, he had little else to do.

And thus his mind was drawn back to the young girl. She was dressed as a cleric; was she involved with the Church? There were few other places one could get their hands on a blessed blade, but Church members didn't usually let those who were valuable enough to warrant the gift of a blessed blade wander about unprotected in places with a high vampire concentration.

It was undoubtedly a mystery, but not one that he would ever likely uncover. Though that was irritating, he could live with it if it meant that he never crossed that girl's path again. Something about her was oddly alluring, and his apparent inability to think straight where she and the memories that she invoked were concerned made her dangerous. If ever he did come across her again, the most prudent thing to do would be to kill her himself.

Satisfied with this conclusion, though still slightly disturbed by his own actions, Sorin headed to the nearby town of Silbern to find some nourishment. Rather coincidentally, a young girl no older than fourteen years was wandering about the outskirts of the farm that likely belonged to her family. Sorin stepped out of the shadows and she immediately froze, gazing upon him with pure, undiluted fear.

He smiled at her, but purposefully showed his fangs making the expression look far more hungry than soothing. Fortunately, the innate vampiric abilities in him were more than strong enough to use the girl's immense fear to keep her frozen in place where she stood; the thought of running would no doubt not even cross her feeble mind.

"Please. Don't," she whispered, her voice only audible because of his enhanced hearing. She probably didn't even realize what she was saying as tears started streaking down her cheeks.

A part of the man Sorin had once been still rebelled from this, but it was hardly enough for him to pay it notice any longer. That man had died long before Sorin had even become the monster he was now. "Hush now. It will all be over soon." He brushed her brunette hair back from her face, a few shades lighter than the cleric's, and bit into the pale skin.

The girl went limp in his arms.

Several moments later, a scream went up from the farmer's wife as she found her daughter drained dry and left posed on the edge of the yard, like she were only sleeping.

Sorin watched from the edge of the woods, uncertain what had prompted the spontaneous act of positioning the body, but certainly enjoying the results of sticking around to see their reactions. He remained until someone fled to head up to the Silbern Chapel and get an Inquisitor, at which point he bared his fangs in a low growl, but left regardless, heading back to his manor in order to find something else with which to occupy the rest of his remaining time. Maybe he would stop in Wollebank on the way there for a pet to keep him entertained.

In the distance, the sobs of the girl's mother could still be heard echoing through the trees.

0-0-0-0-0

Kaelynn was once again walking in the forest, but this time she wasn't alone. Kaleb was with her, and they were talking together, laughing about silly things and memories of childhood. These were the sorts of things that she missed dearly when he was away, and so both made a special effort to spend as much time together just doing nothing when he came back home for a time. Sure, visits to their friends in Wollebank were always nice, but their time alone, just the two of them, always meant infinitely more.

Look around! You're not alone!

Their conversation was lighthearted, sprinkled with laughter and the occasional playful shoving when one of them would make a comment that could, under different circumstances, have been construed as offensive. Neither the cleric nor the trained Inquisitor noticed the approaching vampire coven.

Just run now! Don't try to fight them!

When the attack came, it was swift, and Kaelynn felt as though she were watching it from outside her body. The vampires rushed, some falling to her blade and many more to her brother's. She screamed at him, declared that they needed to run. He told her to go. He was supposed to be right behind her.

No! Turn around, you idiot!

Her footfalls echoed unnaturally against the ground, her blood pounding in her ears. Why hadn't Kaleb already overtaken her? He always faster than she, particularly when she was wearing one of her dresses without slits. He should be in front of her. Kaelynn stopped dead where she stood, looking around for her brother, hoping to catch a glimpse of him through the trees. Was he coming?

Don't stand there waiting! Go now!

Her eyes scanned the trees, but there was no sight of him. Her breath catching in her throat, adrenaline pounding somehow even more in her veins, she sprinted back towards the clearing where they had stood to fight. Her foot caught on a root and she went sprawling into the dirt and fallen leaves. There was something right in front of her face that didn't make sense. What was that?

Too late. . . .

In an instant, Kaelynn's perspective snapped back to her own body as she slowly raised her head, knowing what would be there yet somehow praying that it was something different this time. The dusted bodies of vampires lay all around her, but directly in front of her face was the arm of Kaleb, torn completely from his body and still gushing blood in to the dirt.

Bile rose in her throat and she gave a strangled scream at the sight before her as she scrambled back away from the body-less limb. A few feet away from the arm was the rest of his body, and she crawled towards it slowly, whispering denials fiercely as she moved towards the corpse.

He wasn't moving.

He wasn't breathing.

There was no heartbeat.

She laid her head down on his chest, her breath coming in heaving gasps as her shuddering sobs tore through her entire body. There were no words for the pain blossoming in her chest. The killing wound was that of a blade plunged through his chest, but whatever had made it was gone; there was only a hole there now. The blood was still gushing, oh goddess, why was the blood still running? His eyes were open and lifeless, staring at the sky, and his legs were twisted at an unnatural angle. Avacyn, why?

Finally, the scream ripped through her throat, and she lay there, hollaring to the night skies for the injustice of it all.

Suddenly, the body beneath her shifted and cold dead eyes snapped up to meet her own as a hand gripped her throat, crushing her windpipe, and she choked, staring at Kaleb's rage-twisted expression. "You did this!"

Kaelynn woke gasping for air, her hand flying to her neck despite knowing from the beginning that it had been a dream. Ever since his death a year ago, she relived it in her head, over and over, never able to change anything. Sometimes she woke when she screamed. Sometimes it took a little bit longer.

The young cleric laid her head back against the door, trying to get her breathing and tears under control. She had already done this! She had already mourned for Kaleb; why couldn't she move on? Why wouldn't he let her move on?

Sometimes she wondered if perhaps she shouldn't have buried him out there in the woods where he had died. It would be a lot easier to visit his grave if it weren't in the middle of the woods, but she feared that if it weren't for the danger of going, she might spend all her time there. The risk that she took in going to visit him as she had today limited the amount of time she could spend there, forced her to move on to other things.

Trying to shove the memories and the dream from her mind, Kaelynn decided that she would head to the small town of Wollebank to visit with some of her friends and possibly get something decent to eat for a fair price. It was a lot to ask for from the frightened human population of the shepherd's town, but it was closer than the slightly smaller, Church dominated Silbern. She liked Wollebank better anyway, even though the town was actually nearer to the abandoned, yet still dreaded, Markov Manor. The people there had always been kinder to her and her brother than the cathars and paranoid farmers that surrounded the small chapel and watchtower in Silbern.

She headed off without further ado, walking at a swift, even pace, the knife's weight on her right leg a comforting presence reminding her that she wasn't defenseless. At first, walking with the weight of the blade had bothered her, but now she felt naked without it. Besides, with the near death experience earlier that day, she figured she better stop ignoring the remembered advice of her deceased brother. She could have avoided that vampire coven if she'd been more careful. Maybe a part of her hadn't desired to do so, however.

She placed those disturbingly accurate thoughts out of her mind as she entered the small town.

Wollebank was of a relatively good size, but not so large as to attract too much attention from the supernatural inhabitants of their land. The houses were rather clumped together, while the fences that held the sheep were on the outskirts; they would much prefer the werewolves steal their sheep than the vampires steal their children.

She walked into the town without fear, but, to her surprise, found it fairly deserted. She knocked on the door to one of her friend's home, and the door opened a crack, revealing the frightened face of Isaac Morsh, who opened the door slightly wider and pulled her inside to the relatively dark home. "Kaelynn," he exclaimed in surprise, "what are you doing about?"

"I came to visit some friends and possibly buy some supplies, though I'm beginning to think that now's not a good time. What's going on?"

"Markov Manor," he responded, like that explained everything.

"Do you think I could get a bit more of an explanation than that?"

"Someone was there," he hissed, lowering his voice. "First we saw lights on the upper floors, and then, earlier today, we saw someone leave."

Kaelynn resisted the urge to roll her eyes, fairly certain that the town was in an uproar over nothing. After all, no one had been in the Markov Manor for centuries as far as the people of Innistrad were concerned. "Have you been holed up inside all day?"

"Yes," the annoyed voice of Isaac Morsh's sixteen-year-old daughter responded from one of the adjoining rooms. "Everyone's all worked up over nothing."

Kaelynn didn't try to resist the smile that sprang to her face at the sight of Abigail Morsh; the girl was like a sister to her and always had been. "Hello, Abigail." Kaelynn immediately moved to embrace her, the affection instantly reciprocated by the younger girl.

"Hey, Kaelynn. Haven't seen you around in a while."

Kaelynn gave a light shrug and a small smile, "Believe it or not, I've actually been a bit busy. I promise to try and get down here more often, however."

The assurance seemed to placate the blonde and she grinned, "Will you stick around? Mom's cooking up something I don't want to think about for supper."

Kaelynn smiled at the invitation, but declined gently, "I'm afraid not, Abi. I should probably be going." Even if she didn't really believe in the legends about the Markov Demon or the whispers about someone being back in the Manor, it was still better to be safe than sorry. She turned back to Isaac, "Tell Marion that I dropped by."

Isaac looked at her like she was insane, "You can't seriously be going out there."

Kaelynn shrugged, "I need to get home. I'll probably be back tomorrow for some supplies," she directed this at Abi, "maybe we can talk more then."

"Okay; bye, Lyn."

Kaelynn smiled and then walked through the door, making sure to close it securely behind her even as the somber words of both Abigail and Isaac drifted out after her, "May Avacyn go with you."

Taking a deep breath, she left the porch of their house and stood in the main street, gazing up at Markov Manor for several moments. It looked the same as it always did, just as imposing and just as abandoned. Deciding that the villagers were almost certainly being paranoid, like most Innistrad humans were prone to be, Kaelynn shook her head slightly and turned, ready to go home.

Kaelynn Grey then found herself face-to-face with the Vampire Lord of House Markov- Sorin Markov himself.

EDIT: I came back and redid this chapter, so if there are any inconsistencies or needless explanations in the future chapters, please let me know!