The Archives of the Oracle
Summary: Vampires always favoured dark, forbidding structures when choosing a place for royal or important people and things to reside. The Archives of the Oracle were no exception.
Disclaimer: No, I do not own Young Dracula. If I did Vlad would be Grand High Vampire already, Bertrand would still be alive and kicking, Zoltan wouldn't have mysteriously disappeared... I could go on quite frankly.
A/N: Thank you to Vlarinfan4eva, HyaHya, redrachxo and HopeCoppice for the reviews of my last YD story (all the way back in October). This one's another odd one, but I figured that since they don't mention much about vampire history I was free to play around with it. Thank you to way2cool4uXX for the beta :)
Vampires always favoured dark, forbidding structures when choosing a place for royal or important people and things to reside. The Archives of the Oracle were no exception. However, whereas the other buildings dominated the landscape, the Archives were hidden from view by the dark alchemy of three races; the werewolves, the humans and (naturally) the vampires. The knowledge of how it had been done had long since been lost. All anyone knew was that if a person were unworthy to visit the Archives they could not detect it with any of their senses. No one had visited the Archives for over a thousand years.
Only two figures had seen the expansive corridors and were still undead and able to tell the tale; the Caretakers. The man had been trained a soldier before he was enlisted for the Archives. The woman was an advisor for the first ever Grand High Vampire. She sat at her desk every night without fail, documenting the goings on of the modern vampire world as she sipped at a glass of an odd orange substance that she and the man-made themselves (it didn't taste brilliant, but it satiated their thirst). The man, however, walked the dusty marble floors, guarding the precious information that lay within artefacts resting on silk cushions and between pages in old tomes.
For these archives were unlike any other. They were established by the first Grand High Vampire and the Oracle in the heat of the war that brought about their fall. Knowing their fate, they poured their collective knowledge into objects that looked like glass spheres and gathered all the books of knowledge that had not been destroyed by their adversaries. They appointed the Caretakers, instructed them to record all vampire history until the time the Chosen One would rise and bring the vampire world out of the shadows once more, then with the help of people of the other races still loyal to them, they sealed the Archives.
Now the hallways echoed with the faint whisperings of the Oracle's stored premonitions and the Grand High Vampire's memories.
If any modern vampire were to stumble into the Archives, the Grand High Vampire's memories would have astounded them, for the second man who claimed the title of Grand High Vampire had re-written history for his benefit. The memories were that of a kind, benevolent man who only wanted the best for his people, not those of a soulless tyrant. They told of his bringing together of the warring clans, the peace struck between the vampires and breathers and the love he had for his family. They told of his acceptance as the Oracle foresaw of the demise of both of them and his infusing of his powers into his crown, so that in the future when there was another vampire that was good at heart they would be endowed with his powers and lead their race properly.
The Oracle's memories were far more varied. They ranged from the visions of the young Chosen One who would gain power before he had even seen fifteen years, to her untold love for the smell of freshly baked bread. Many of the visions, such as those featuring the Chosen One, had been foretold by far less powerful seers (albeit those visions had not been as clear as the Oracle's). Yet there was a plethora of other visions that had remained lost to the Archives, out of the reach of vampires for centuries.
There were images of a young, full-blooded vampire. She stood tall among her peers who looked down on her for her gender. She was an unwavering supporter of the Chosen One, though his views were often foreign to her. She and the Chosen One shared a close bond, that of siblings, although she found it harder to express this outwardly than he did.
Another to share in this bond was younger than both the woman and the Chosen One. He united the belligerent forces of the werewolves and the vampires almost singlehandedly. The Oracle had once described him as a paradox. He ran with the wolves at the full moon, turning into a jet black dog that greatly resembled a fully grown hell-hound, yet he drank a blood substitute and could not go out into direct sunlight.
Others visions showed a French half-fang who had turned against his master and stolen his pride and joy, an old book sealed shut by skeletal hands. He roamed the homes of vampires where power resided in a constant search, waiting until he could stand by the side of the Chosen One and follow him to glory.
There was another half-fang who was prominent among the visions in the Archives. She was outwardly unremarkable (yes, she was beautiful and she had blonde hair, but that was not as rare as most thought), but displayed a steel of character that made her a formidable opponent of the Chosen One. Her powers far surpassed that of a normal half-fang (and some full-blooded vampires) and she had man by her side who sought vengeance for wrongs done to him by the Chosen One. They were able to raise rebellions from the smallest alley way, make large the tiniest errors of the man in power and had the combined scheming of thirty men. But the visions never saw the success of these rebellions, only the capture of the blonde woman and her far too easy escapes. Several times over she came face to face with the Chosen One, her shouts of the injustice he had done her burning his mind until she lunged at him and he was forced to defend himself.
These visions were the most distressing for the Caretakers, for the emotions of the half-fang and the Chosen One could be felt when standing too close to the glass orbs that contained them. They had learnt very quickly that premonitions that were coming true were stronger than the others. The female Caretaker added the fights between the Chosen One and the half-fang to her accounts of history.
Anyone who looked in on the Caretakers would see two completely calm vampires, unthreatening and past their prime. They would seem completely insane, incessantly cleaning the once dusty Archives until the marble shone and the memories in the orbs could be once again be seen as a glowing golden mist and the tomes lining the shelve were no longer coated in grime. At the odd twilight period where it was neither time for them to sleep, nor for them to start their work, they gathered around a single sphere that shone almost as brightly as the ones holding the premonitions of the fights between the Chosen One and the half-fang. They spoke softly to one another until darkness fell and they began their separate occupations.
The monotony of their routine was tinged with excitement, because as long as the orb continued to glow steadily brighter, the premonition became closer to becoming true.
And it wasn't everyday vampires got visited by the Chosen One.