There is prophecy that foretells of the coming of an immortal. Born into the world of legends, pure. Untainted with the blood of other immortals, untouched by any other being. It is said, that by the blood and the body of this immortal, the beings would prosper. Like most legends, few believed in the tale. But to those who did, a war was plotted. Any tribe of immortals who possessed this being would gain the advantage to bring prosperity to their people. Stronger werewolves, vampires immune to the sun, fairies with unlimited magic. The possibilities were limit less, as would the price of bloodshed for such a task. Thus, an Order was created. Believers of the legends who wanted nothing more than to protect the foreseen immortal from all the dangers that would befall them. Seven took the oath, swearing their life to protect this child. The Order of the Immortals.
A storm was coming. The sky was darkening, growing more ominous as the seconds past. The air was growing colder as the winds grew stronger. The sun was fading behind the horizon just as the storm was moving in. It would no doubt be a strong storm. Rain slowly began falling form the large black clouds. The icy drops fell onto the autumn ground.
Reins snapped against the neck of a large horse, urging it onward. The storm would no doubt be terrible if one was caught in it. However, there were more dangerous things that roamed the woods once the sun fell from the sky. It was best to hold one's self within the safety and security on one's home. Thankfully it was just within reach.
The horse rode up the worn path, breaking the forest line. The trees thinned out, revealing sanctuary. The stone castle stood a small three stories high. Large arch windows lay around the house, undrawn with the curtains. The candles within had been lit, giving a soft yellow glow through the windows. The horse rode around the castle to the back stables. The rider dismounted quickly, closing the stable door behind them. They rushed to the doors of the castle as the rains grew heavier. She pulled open the doors and entered the safety of their home.
With a gentle raising of the hood of their cloak, stray strands of brown locks fell around the soft red cheeks. She pulled off her riding gloves and untied her cloak. She slipped the cloth from her shoulders and laid it over a hook near the door, placing her gloves within it. Brown curls slipped against her back, reaching midway down. She walked from the entryway, toward the parlor. Her black boots echoed in the silent castle with each step. Her black skirt fluttered around her legs.
She entered the empty parlor. The cream decorum paper lined the walls above the wooden trim. Floral tapestries hung throughout the room. A clean white set lay near the parlor's entry archway. Two sofas and one chair lay arranged around a dark wood table. Just behind the seating arrangements stood a large white grand piano. The young woman walked through the center of the arrangement and seated herself at the piano. She lifted the case and laid her fingers about the ivory keys. She lightly pressed down on the keys, stringing a peaceful chord throughout the room. Her fingers danced along the keys, bringing about a calming melody while the storm began to rage outside the walls.
"I see you've returned before the storm." Called a voice from the archway.
She didn't look up, but continued playing.
"I was beginning to wonder if I should set out in search for you." He continued.
"As you can see, I returned." She said.
The man smiled. He walked into the parlor. His hair was a dark brown, yet hinted to just starting to grey. He was dressed in a clean white collared shirt and neatly pressed black trousers. He wore a dark red vest over his shirt and trousers. His arms were folded behind his back as he approached the piano. His pale skin nearly matched the tone in his shirt and piano.
"Do you not think it is time to stop this insignificant tradition?" he asked.
"I thought visiting the grave of a deceased husband or wife was considered respectful." She replied.
"You were newly married, Emily. As memory serves, your husband never reached your bed before dying suddenly." He said.
"So therefore I should forget I was ever married to him because I am still a virgin, father?" Emily asked. She stopped her playing and looked up from the piano.
His dark eyes narrowed. "Watch your tongue my daughter."
A chuckled filled the room. Emily looked around her father's figure to find a guest. Her eyes widened as she spotted their guest. He stood in the archway, leaning against the frame. His arms were folded in front of his chest as he looked back at Emily. His skin was pale, even in the light. He wore dark trousers and a white collared shirt. His hair and dark coat were wet from the rain, signifying he'd just entered from the storm.
"She certainly has grown into an opinionated and independent young woman, William." He said in a thick Irish accent.
William turned. "Yes, well, remembering her mother one cannot be surprised Matthew."
Matthew's eyes darkened slightly. "True."
"I was unaware we would be honored with a visit this evening." William said.
Matthew shrugged. "What fun are they when someone knows?"
"I believe it is polite to have a notification though." William said.
"And visiting a deceased partner's grave in considered respectful. No matter how many decades have passed." Matthew replied.
William eyes narrowed. "Perhaps, but as you have said, decades have passed since Lord Henry's death. Surely it has been long enough. And what would happen if his family recognized Emily? They would surely notice she hasn't aged since his passing."
"That would explain her late callings." Matthew said, pushing himself from the archway.
"I would appreciate it, if I was not spoken of as if my presence was not here." Emily said.
Matthew bowed his head. "My apologies Lady Emily."
William smiled. "Forgive us, Emily. Surely you remember Mr. Matthew Anderson? He's been a friend of the family for years."
"Centuries, actually, but who's counting?" Matthew asked smiling.
Emily caught sight of his fangs just as the rim of his lower lip. "I'm afraid I do not remember Mr. Anderson."
Matthew smiled. "Mr. Anderson. She is definitely Rebecca's daughter. But it's no wonder she doesn't remember me."
William nodded. "Of course. You haven't visited us since her passing."
Matt nodded.
"Well, since Mr. Anderson hasn't graced us with his presence in over two centuries, I'll retire to allow you men to catch up." Emily said. She rose from the piano and closed the lid.
"Oh don't be so rushed, my dear. Surely I can persuade Matthew to join your brothers and I for an evening supper?" William asked.
Matthew shook his head. "Supper in the middle of a storm is not a pleasant experience. And I've already eaten."
William nodded. "Ah. Then in that case, good night Emily."
"Good night father." Emily said.
William gently took Emily into his arms. He lightly kissed her cheek and sent her on her way.
Emily turned to Matthew and bowed slightly. "Good night Mr. Anderson."
Matthew returned the bow. "Good night Lady Emily."
Emily walked out of the parlor into the hall. She followed the hall to the wooden staircase. She grabbed the banister and walked up. She exhaled deeply, calming her nerves. She felt the heavy weight of the wooden stake in her right boot, her only sense of security in this house.
"Did I hear right?" came a voice. Emily turned quickly. A young man stood behind her, halfway down the stairs. His dark hair and curls matched Emily's. He was dressed in a similar manner to her father, save for his green vest. "Is Mr. Anderson here?"
Emily nodded. "Yes. He's with father in the parlor."
The young man smiled. "Ryan, Ethan! Matt's returned!"
Two more young men came to the top of the stairs. Both bear similar resemblance to one another. Each one of them appearing younger in age than Emily.
"Are you're certain Thomas?" Ethan asked.
Thomas nodded. "Emily said they were in the parlor."
Ethan and Ryan quickly appeared at the bottom of the stairs beside Thomas. They walked into the parlor, leaving Emily on the stairs in peace. She turned and hurried onto the second floor. She walked through the hall and pushed open her bedroom door. She latched it tightly, locking it. Emily turned from the door and walked into the center of her room.
A large wood framed bed was set against the wall in the center. Four wooden posts stood taller than Emily, holding dark blue curtains on the rods. Near the bed was a large vanity mirror and dresser. Emily walked to the dresser and sat down. She pulled her hair form its failing pony, letting her curls fall around her face. She picked up her ivory brush and ran it through her hair was few times. She set her brush down and slipped out of her boots. Emily retrieved the stake from her boot and set it on top of her dresser.
She rose from the dresser and walked to the window. Beyond the rain and growing wind, she watched a casting light from across the ground. Four shadowy figures walked out into the night. As the light form the house faded, the figures vanished quickly into the night. Emily drew the curtains closed and turned from the window. She exhaled again. For the moment, she was only in the presence of one.
Emily pulled the hem of her blouse over her head. She set her blouse in a small wicker basket beside her dresser. She pulled at the bottom of her under bodice corset. The thin strap of her undershirt slipped down her shoulder. Emily drew the strap up over her shoulder. She fetched her night skirt from her dresser and quickly changed from her black skirt.
Emily cast a glance into her mirror. "How long do you plan to remain silent?"
A chuckle filled her room.
Emily turned to the back corner where she'd just looked at in her mirror.
Matt stepped out of the darkness. "You always could tell where I was."
"I live with vampires, Mr. Anderson, it wasn't too hard." Emily explained. "Please leave my chambers."
Matt walked up to her. He looked over her shoulder to her dresser. "I'm sure it wasn't."
Emily glanced over her shoulder, eyeing the stake. She looked back at Matt, finding his gaze had shifted to her. She felt her heart quicken.
"You've grown since I last saw you." Matt said. "You were hardly bigger than your dresser. Now you stand taller than Thomas and Ryan."
"Why are you here tonight, Mr. Anderson?" Emily asked.
Matt arched a brow.
"No man, vampire or other, would face that storm merely to visit." Emily said.
Matt smiled. "You truly are your mother's daughter." He walked around Emily and leaned against her dresser. "I came for you."
"I beg your pardon?" Emily asked, controlling her voice.
"Your family is planning to kill you, Emily." Matt explained. "I can't let that happen."
Emily raised her chin "I don't believe you."
"It doesn't matter if you believe me or not, it's true." Matt replied.
"And why would they want to kill me?" Emily asked.
"Why else? For your blood." Matt answered.
Emily shook her head. "You're wrong."
"I used to believe that." Matt said.
"And how do you expect to remove me from this castle?" Emily asked. "They will be back soon."
"By the time they return, we'll be far from this castle." Matt answered.
"You speak as if I'll comply with you." Emily said.
"That would be nice." Matt said.
"Do you think I'll comply?" Emily stepped toward Matt, shortening the distance between them. She looked up at him, slowly reached for the stake on the dresser. Emily grasped the stake in her hand. She moved quickly for him.
Matt caught her hand. He spun Emily around, twisting her arm around her back. He pushed her against the top of her dresser. Emily groaned in pain. The stake fell from her hand into the floor. "No. I don't."
"Good." Emily replied. She grabbed the silver dagger from her dresser and swung her arm around. She drove the dagger into Matt's leg.
Matt cried out, releasing Emily's arm. He staggered from Emily, falling to the ground.
Emily pushed herself off the dresser toward her door. "Silver dagger, polished with garlic and holy water."
Matt cringed as he pulled the dagger from his leg. He looked up at Emily, almost amused. He exhaled deeply. "Impressive, Emily."
"Not even close." Emily replied. She grabbed her door and pulled it open. She slammed it behind her and took off through the hall. Matt would only be immobile for a few moment, if that. She needed to get as far from him as possible. However, now she had no weapon. But perhaps she could withstand the storm. Emily came around the corner.
And ran into Matt. Emily stopped short. "But not impressive enough."
Emily took a step back.
Matt pushed himself off the wall. "Still, it is a relief to know you can defend yourself."
"I can do more than defend myself." Emily said.
Matt smirked. He moved from the wall quickly. Emily turned her head. Matt was to her right, across the hall. He moved again, across the hall. He moved again, out of Emily's sight. Emily turned around completely, looking all around, but Matt was nowhere to be seen. Emily felt her heart quicken in her chest. She was used to the fast movements of vampires, but Matt was something else. He was faster than her brothers. Faster than her father. Emily bit her lip nervously.
"If you can do more than defend yourself, then predict where I'm going to be." Matt called.
Emily turned again, still the hall was empty.
"Give up?" Matt asked. His cold breath blew down her neck.
Before Emily could move Matt reached up and grabbed her chin. His cold temperature sent involuntary chills through Emily. He turned her head to the right, exposing her neck. He opened his mouth, widening his jaw, and exposing his fangs to the fullest. His teeth puncture the skin on Emily's neck. His hand reached up over her lip, covering her scream. Emily's right hand grabbed his, trying to pull his hand from her mouth. He drew blood from her quickly. Her blood seared his throat, burning as he drew from her. But he still drew from her.
Emily tried to fight back, but Matt's grasp was too strong over her. Her strength was quickly fading with every second Matt drew from her. Her reflection self was grown blurry. Her screams faded into quiet moans. Her hand trembled against his own.
Matt released Emily's arm, wrapping his arm around her waist to support her. Her legs gave out, giving him her full weight. He released her lips, but held her head. Matt gently lowered her unconscious form to the floor of the hall. He finished drawing from her and gently laid her head on the ground. He wiped the last of the blood from her neck. Matt brushed a strand of curl behind Emily's ear.
and so it begins. please note that the only racognizable characters so far are listed as such; emily, matt, ethan, ryan, and tom. anyway, enjoy.