Chapter I

Returning Home

"Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die." – Alfred, Lord Tennyson

It was Tuesday, 23 August 1864, and a very humid morning at that. Three nights before I finally put all my thoughts into action, I was to leave General Groom's army and return home to Mystic Falls. I spoke to my sergeant and we both came to the conclusion that the army was not my forte, and I would be sent back to Mystic Falls in the morning. Being on the battlefield was no easy task, but I was no push-over either. One task Giuseppe had aced was raising his boys to be brave young men; although I was positive Stefan could do with some tweaking, I knew he was on the right path, and alas once I made it back home I could show him all the fundamentals of being a man.

Peeling away the navy blue drapes from the small window of the carriage, I felt the heat of the sun burn down on my face. The bright light of the morning sun in contrast to the dark carriage I had been staring blankly into for the past four hours had caused me to squint my eyes to adjust to the light.

From what I could see outside was that summer was in full bloom, the empty land that stretched out before my eyes was lush and a soft yet bright green. It had been a year last my eyes had seen my hometown, and I would never imagine myself to miss a place that was so monotonous and without talent, yet I had missed it, very much so. I found myself impatiently tapping the sole of my boot down against the dusty floor of the carriage as I made my way through the town square; it was a good place for development right in the heart of the town, that was about all I could remember having attended college last winter. As far as I could see though, the folk of Mystic Falls hadn't picked up on my inner genius yet, the town square still looked pretty much the same to me than the last time I had seen it.

The closer I got to reaching Veritas Estate, the slower the carriage seemed to be going, and the faster my patience seemed to be wearing out. I felt as though I could climb out of the carriage, place the young boy scout inside the carriage where I had been, and race these horses the rest of the way to Veritas, but nevertheless, I rapped on the hard and slightly damp wood of the carriage.

"How far along are we, John?" I shouted over the loud clicking racket the horses' hooves made as it connected with the gravel of the earth beneath us.

"About ten minutes away, sir," John politely replied.

Thank goodness, and then I can have some peace and quiet.

Now that I thought about it, I could do with some silence, but I knew the inevitable was soon approaching, father and I were soon to have a dispute about my reluctance to stay in the army and prove my worth as a man, and take my place in the world as he had mentioned countless times over. The truth was that I had yet to discover what I wanted to do for a living, but right now I knew what I wanted to do. I was twenty-four years of age and wanted to live my life, spend time with my younger brother, and maybe even take interest in a woman or two around town; Only time could tell what was in the cards for me, there were endless possibilities.

Veritas looked the same, the maid's children played on the expanse of terrain provided for them, and I could see what looked like the old man who worked for us tending to Stefan's horse, Mezzanotte. I briefly wondered where Stefan would be, then I remembered he was a good boy; he would read Shakespeare and tend to the horses in the stable to pass his time, but I knew those times were slowly coming to an end. He was a young man at the tender age of seventeen, and soon he would find himself a suitor who would make him do reckless things and forget all about father and his studies.

"Damon! You're back," I heard a voice belt out as soon as I made it through the front door.

I barely made it into the foyer, when I was enveloped in the large meaty arms of our household cook, Margaret. She was a large woman, built like a brick house but had one of the kindest hearts I knew. I always held a soft spot in my heart for her as she had saved my skin many times over. I remembered a time when father had hosted an event here at our home, and I merrily helped myself to the left over glasses of brandy that were displayed on the table. I was merely sixteen at the time and was as drunk as a skunk, but of course Maggie helped me before father could see me in the terrible state I was. She took me to her quarters and bathed me in ice cold water to sober me up; she was like my second mother.

"Yes, I'm back. It turns out the army isn't the place for me," I said as I reluctantly pulled back from Margaret, my eyes meeting her sea-greens.

"It seems no place is a place for you, son."

I turned around to face him, my jaw squaring as I took him in. His age was starting to show, as I could see he had started to develop wrinkles around his eyes, but the permanent frown that creased his forehead as he spoke remained the same.

"It isn't such a big dilemma, there are plenty other things I can do with my time, father."

"Like what, Damon? I have thrown countless opportunities your way and look what you have done, you have wasted them all," said Giuseppe, his voiced laced with harshness and a hint of his Italian accent he used when he was angry.

"I don't want to do what you want me to do, father. I have my own mind and I am capable of making my own decisions," I said raising my voice too.

"You have no idea what you're doing, Damon. What am I to do with you?" he asked throwing his hands up into the air, his face reddening further and further as his blood started to boil out of rage and anger, but the sound of the door behind me creaking open caught my attention.

"Damon?"

I turned around swiftly to see my brother, Stefan standing there. He had grown taller, but was still as lanky as ever. He rushed over to my side and I squeezed him in a tight brotherly hug, patting him on the back for good measure.

"What are you doing here?" he asked as he pulled away from me, his deep emerald orbs searching mine as he tried to uncover the answer. "I thought you were in General Groom's army."

"I was, but now I'm back and I'm here to stay," I emphasized as I turned my gaze from Stefan to Giuseppe and back again.

"This conversation isn't over, Damon," said Giuseppe before he briskly retreated to his study where he spent most of his days doing God knows what.

"Well, I'm glad you're back, I have missed you," said Stefan and smiled meekly. I could see his young face was troubled, my guess was father made him do something he didn't want to, and often something he tried with me but never succeeded at. Stefan and I were close, but we were vastly different; Stefan could easily be persuaded into doing something, where I on the other hand went down with great difficulty.

"I have missed you too, Stefan but tell me, what have you been up to while I was away?"

"I have been reading Shakespeare, remember the poet I wrote to you about, he really has a different perspective on everything, of course father doesn't approve, but other than that I have been keeping Mezzanotte in good shape, she is my closest friend besides you. What about you?"

"Such kind words, brother. Thank you. Well, besides the army being the most tedious thing I have ever done in my life, it did bring me some joy. There was this game the boys and I used to play back at camp," I said bending down to retrieve my canvas satchel and pulling out an oval leather bound ball, moving it from my one hand to the other. "This is an American football."

"How do you play it?" asked Stefan, his eyes alight with excitement as we made our way down the two small steps and onto the large area of lawn at the front of our home.

"The objective is to keep it as long as you can," I said and dodged Stefan as he came towards me. "Reflexes, Stefan."

"Can I play with?" asked a female voice, nearing Stefan and I as she walked the short distance towards us. "Hello Stefan."

"Oh, hello Katherine; Katherine this is my brother, Damon. Damon this is Katherine she will be living with us," Stefan said, introducing us.

"Pleasure to meet you, Katherine," I said as I took her pale hand in mine, kissing the top delicately as if it were marble. Her hand certainly felt as cold as marble, it was strange for such a sunny day as this, but nevertheless my eyes locked with hers; Katherine's eyes were a vibrant deep brown that complemented the rest of her beauty perfectly."

"Likewise, Mr Salvatore," said Katherine, her voice laced with what sounded like playfulness as she bowed femininely before swiftly snatching the football out of my hands and started running away from us.

Stefan looked as if something had just gotten his goat; his features looked as if they were laced with pain and hurt.

"Well, brother," I said standing beside him, shoulder to shoulder as we both watched Katherine run, her one hand holding up her beautiful lilac coloured dress. "That is a woman who clearly wants to be chased," I said and bumped Stefan's shoulder with my own, causing him to briefly smile. "Well if you won't, I will."

Thank you very much for reading, I hope you enjoyed it.

Bare in mind this is completely different then what you may think, so please don't judge this story until you get further, though constructive criticism is well appreciated.

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