Our story begins with once upon a time, though holds no happy ending; Because not only is the end not happy, but there is yet no end to speak of. That is the curse, and the wrongly sought after gift of those stranded on earth. Immortality. A glorious concept to those who can see the edges of their life, and don't know what comes after, a glorious concept to those who fear the oblivion of the unknown. What isn't accounted for, are the consequences. It was said, that Eveline [Eev-ah-leen] the first wife of Vladimir Tepes committed suicide. The enemy resounded on all sides, and her attempt to die was her refusal to be taken into captivity by the Turkish army. The rest of us know the myth that weaves us the image of truth that so many sought after. The tale of the Impalers' first lover, and the first carrier of the seed of immortality. Myth, legend, and history are the quilts based on one initial piece of truth, pick and choose your own.

Tumultuous change brought out the worst in people, and the largest conspiracies of chaos. Though late in the fourteenth century, you were not meant to thoroughly question the cards you were dealt, simply endear them with a grimace and do the duty your god and kingdom required you to. The people of Walachia, were poor. They were unruly. One could have called each other a criminal, that is, if there was any real law to disobey. But there were rumors that existed on the edges of ones consciousness. That it was not only the Lord who was dealing out the final judgments. These whispers declared that the new Theif of the throne was bringing justice at all costs. Something that the blood ridden land had not seen since the birth of it's own nation. The bodiless voices had declared that it was Vladimir the III. And masked personas claimed him to be the Red Dragon. It was the fearful living, however, who called him the Impaler. These sentiments drifted into every corner of their country and further creeping along with tendrils fueled by gossip. Once they reached the providence over which the Boyar Abel Durgatois had vested himself in the rumors were so far fetched that he laughed them off.

"Another Prince to bring down, Bravo! At least he's got quite the reputation, eh?"

Around him, the previously tense air had cleared, his face crinkling up into a smile that revealed his yellowing teeth. His eyes bloodshot from the strong smelling drink clasped in his meaty hand, he'd glanced over to the woman who went to clear his plate with disgust.

"And what are you doing?"

One of the other faceless men demanded of females form, her own fingers stilling on the plate. Running her tongue over her full bottom lip to wet it, she kept her eyes lowered from that of her father.

"The maid...She's been passed out since you last hit her with your cane. I was just trying to help"

Her paternal figure was the first to break out in laughter, the clones quickly followed suit.

"Well if you're going to act like a maid, why don't you dress to match?"

One of the men jided her, as the distinct feel of a hand on her rump appeared out of her father's eyes. Closing her own hazel optics she willed to still her anger. Though it was too late, and she smacked the man across the face. Hard enough to surprise, but not enough to cause physical harm.

"I may be under my father's roof, but I am a grown woman more than capable of defending my honor, sir."

She'd informed the room before another chorus of laughter. Exiting the room with tray balanced, the woman hardly knew what would go on behind her back. The departure brought another bout of somber understanding in the room, the façade of nonchalance falling away as her own father scratched the beginnings of a beard.

"When is he meant to come…?"

A noble of her own right, it was about time that she married and left this nest. Though she hadn't the will to leave her mother. Leaning at the aforementioned creature, her skirts brushed softly against her bare ankles, Eveline's pale hands grabbed her mothers face, mimicking the touch she remembered from her childhood. Her father's attitude, she had recently begun to understand, was the direct result of her mother's illness. Saving her from the highest of fevers, it was a miracle that she was alive. But the medical man said that it had melted her brain, that's why…

A sigh escaped her being, glancing down at the feather light lines over the skin of her mother whose eyes openend. A childish smile appeared on the woman before her, and Eveline's smile was just as bright.

"Hello mama."

She greeted her, as her mothers hands wound themselves in her daughter's dark locks. Eveline, however, busied her hands with adjusting her mother's pillow. And the ritual started. Fluff the pillow, feed her, take her to the chamber pot, clean her face, change her clothes. The ritual that was her job since her eldest sister married out of their direct family. As she blew out the candle in the midst of the woman's slumber. This was nothing more than preserving a corpse, but it was the corpse of her mother. The thing that chained her to this home, that chained her father to the bottle, and still she felt the deep swell of love for the ruined creature so incredibly small on the bed in the dark. The familiar spark of unshed tears appeared as she shut the door slowly.

Sleep was a tricky beast and seemed to evade you most heartily when you wanted it to occur. Scowling, she'd tossed her body with intent to make it comfortable, and instead it only secured the growing dread in the pit of her stomach. Her hands were cold, and her head was heavy as stone. She knew that it meant, it meant that the reality as those around her knew it was bending. And that someone who was supposed to have passed on was trying to speak to her. Now, she'd known since a very small age when a priest had exorcized the demon out of her, that she should not pay any attention to the phantasmic apparitions. But this one, it was gnawing on her sleep and guilt. The implorations it was sending to her mind made her feel like she was drowning under it's intent. Finally, she'd snapped up to a seated position, the dark meant nothing to these creatures, she would see them brighter than day even in the most inky of these situations. So it was no surprise when she found it over her, clear as chrystal, but she still had to bite back a scream. Her father, looked t her with soul-less eyes.

Immediately plunged into the icy depths of shock she drew in gasping breaths. And her labored silence brought the thing to speak

"I knew…the exorcism didn't work…"

Her father looked at her, even as she could look through him. Everything about the ghost was familiar. And without her knowledge, tears had started to run down her eyes her lips parting on a quivering lips that parted. She didn't know what she planned to say, what to do. The only way she could be seeing this was on the occurrence of her father's death. The vision had a trail of blood coming from her mouth, but she couldn't see any other sign of death lingering on him. What had happened, where was he, why was he here? A sob escaped her throat and he shushed her.

"Listen pet, the Prince is on his way."

He started to say, but finally finding her voice she protested violently.

"Why? Father what have you d-done?"

Something deeper than sorrow clutched at her throat as he had to hush her yet again, her shaking body making it nearly impossible to hear him.

"You have to leave…You have to avoid him. Don't think you're going to escape because you were not involved, you are my daughter and he no doubt sees you as an equal criminal, an offense against the crown…"

The words kept swirling and she didn't know how to comprehend them, in a distant voice that sounded like it belonged to a child, she heard it ask.

"Daddy…What did you do?"

It was at that point where she heard the distinct thump of a crash, causing a scream to jump to her throat. It was in the foyer, no doubt, given the sound reverberated up the twin spiral stairs. But such a distance seemed much shorter in her panic. She didn't recall thinking about moving, simply found herself running to the window. Two accompanying Knights went at the door with aggressive vigor, and two more waited behind. The only man on a horse had long thick Romanian hair, with robes made of scarlet, and the chest of his armor proudly portraying the golden shine of a dragon, and behind him, Oh god, behind him was her father on another horse, his corpse mangled and stripped of clothing, the ultimate shame. Instantly, her stomach twisted, and falling to her knees so that they wouldn't see, heaved and gagged on the floor, saliva and bile the only things left in her stomach went in a stream down her chin mixing with the tears that wouldn't stop pouring. Whirling around to look for her father even as her throat threatened to do it again, her chest heaved under sobs or her panicked breathing she wasn't sure. Her father looked at with sad eyes.

"I still loved you…with all my heart. I am very sorry my daughter, I could not pass on without telling you so, I hope it will be a long while til we meet again."

Another resounding roar of bodily force on her poor double doors met her ears, but she was numb to it now. Seeing this, she had a vision of what had been. Her older sister, her mother and her father. And they were destroying it with each thump on her door. As if reading her thoughts, her father said his parting words,

"Oh…And your mother…She won't understand. I would hate for her to die brutally at the hands of the enemy alone and confused…She is guilty of no crime, Eveline, please do not make her suffer."

And she was alone. Cold. Numb. Blinking slowly, her body shook but her mind was even. Even as she heard the distinct shattering of the last thing that kept her from the hell that spilled into her misshapened world, she kept her steps even. Turning the handle to her mothers room, she'd wiped her hand off on her sleeve mechanically before entering. The thin form was sitting, her eyes facing the wall as she inquired what was going on, before snapping at the unlit candle, saying to stop interrupting whatever important notion the wall was speaking of. Going and sitting next to her, Eveline dimly heard the declaration to stop hiding from the demons that had broken into her home. She had a job to do. The silence of the room otherwise made the air feel all too close, pressing down on her, on her mother; who now looked at her with sloping brown eyes.

"I'm tired…"

She informed her daughter's forehead, her eyes unfocused. Pressing her lips together in a grim line, Eveline's face was organized in stone.

"Then lay down momma."

She could hear the clank of footsteps, and knew she had to hurry, had to hurry. So as soon as the form went down, Eveline's eyes searched that of her life giver, looking for anything. Anything that would tell her she was doing right, and in those eyes, she found a deep peace, a love; and she imagined this had been her permission. For now it was her turn to play god. Fluffing her pillows like always, she took one from the side of her mothers head.

"I love you forever…Please wait for me, and I won't forget you."

The shell of a woman simply smiled as the pillow was pressed over her face, and only after a minute did her hands grab her daughters wrists. Feeling her mother's nails dig into her skin she'd finally started sobbing. The open door cast a shadow over her, but she didn't look up, even as the shouts directed the rest of the cretins where to go. And eventually, the grip softened, and the woman gently stroked her arm. Face twisted up in pain now, she waited til the being beneath her went limp, just as she heard the clunk of hard leather shoes entered the room, as if the man wearing them intended it to be as loud as possible.

"Now…Why did you do that, girl?"

Eveline swallowed, but did not look. She could not look at whatever had entered her room. He smelled of death even stronger than the dead did. And he hadn't ruled for more than a year. A year…It had taken him a year to track down her father, for whatever 'crime' he supposedly committed. Almost instantaneously she'd felt one of them wrench her hair, and even had it in her to feel a touch of surprise that the Devil himself found it necessary to do the honors of grabbing the daughter of a noble man.

"I asked you a question"

He informed her in a sickly dark voice that washed over her with the intent to stain her skin with the darkness it carried. Unable to really concentrated, she felt a comforting fact, that she may have truly lost her mind. And they were going to kill her. The thought caused a smile to her face, and he'd hit her for it, hard. Obviously attempting to brutalize the happy expression with his hand, to erase it's mockery, he was no doubt filled with a sense of righteousness. So she spoke up, hope of the finality of her statement would grant her an end.

"Because you were going to kill her!"

She exclaimed, her voice high in comparison. Even the guards who accompanied their Prince, and lived in the city of impalement, felt a great deal of discomfort. The cry was too raw, as was her strangling her own mother. The Devil's grin widened and he jerked her head, back to face him, her feet only skimming the ground as her thick dark hair pulled at the skin of her head with new vigor.

"Your father…neglected to come to the feast at my palace for Easter."

She was looking at him blankly, with that pretty swollen face. Swollen from tears, swollen from pain; but somber in its resolve, the woman expected him to kill her where she stood, and moments ago, he would have done so without telling her why. But her honesty had made him feel a shift in himself.

"Sir Durgatois, was a favorite of my father's and yet; he still betrayed him, you see, played a part in his death. And then! He proceeds to unjustly steal from the good people of my country. I simply had to come meet him."

Eveline blinked, shocked at the mere fact she still had it in her to even carry an ounce of surprise. She didn't have…

"Oh, I see you did not know…"

Another grin, another sick grin over his face still masked in shadow. She could not see him clearly but knew he was smiling, her gut wrenched everytime he did.

"How old are you?"

This answer, was supplied without hesitation.

"Nineteen."

The answer brought on, apparently, another bout of insanity, as she was thrust forward to the guards, her knees hitting the ground hard before barley catching herself with her hands. This position, made it clear to see her mother's lifeless hand draping over the side. Her ghost had not appeared to her, giving Eveline the peace that she understood what her daughter had done for her.

"Old enough! Where you lived through my father's death!"

The prince behind her began to shout, circling her like pray as she felt a sword draw to her neck by one of the guards.

"Old enough! To have known, and yet you do not! Old enough…to have every innocence taken from you and still your eyes hold onto it in desperation! Hardly a woman, you aren't even married…"

Crouching down, the foreboding figure dwarfed her even then. He was completely ignorant of his guards, and so she followed suit.

"You aren't married…Because of your mother, because you care for her and your father, and you work."

Eveline blinked slowly, not understanding where this was going.

"You work, and you are chaste, and a faithful daughter and friend. That is why, I shall not rip you apart, not yet, at the very least."

It was as if he'd slapped her. Eveline sputtered against the relief, struggling against it. No, she wanted to die, she had to die. She did not want to live with her mother's blood on her hands, and her father's hollow eyes haunting her. She did not want to live to see her nation curdled in blood and the endless cruelty before her. With a desperate and sudden sob, she'd thrown herself forward on the sword only to fall forward with the force of her motion when she…did not meet the sharp metal she desired.

Over her, there was laughter, swirling about her head in it's own heartlessness.

"I want them all to see…What a merciful Count I am when one remains an honorable citizen. Pick this girl up, she can ride with her father back with us."

Racking her body with the force of her silent screaming, she dug her fingers deep into the wood, til blood ran down her palms. The clear view of her mother's hand now in place as Vladimir made his way to her, lifting the pillow off the glassy eyed visage. The empty carton.

"And I think we'll take the mother with us, impale her corpse next to that of her husbands…where all wives should be."