AN: Hello dearies!
I'm super excited to share my first story that isn't a one-shot with you lovely people! Here it is! Just a heads up: it will all be in Dimitri's POV and it will not be a very long story. Ten chapters at most (i know, sad), but hopefully I'll be able to start posting another much longer story soon. (Fingers crossed)
Again, I want to thank you all sooooo much for your support and kind words! They make me want to write all of the time so I can post everything super fast, but alas...life.
PS. I just wanted to comment on my last one-shot, Gosh Dang It, Sonya. I was brought to my attention that I might have offended some people with that title and I just want to say that that was not my intention. I don't swear IRL (just a personal preference) and I wasn't trying to imply anything obscene by using that title. I do, however, use euphemisms (for example: "gosh dang it") in practically all of my writings, so if that offends you then I'm sorry, but I will not be changing that. I'm not trying to be mean, and I do appreciate the comment. I will be more careful with title choices in the future, but I don't find "Gosh Dang It, Sonya" to be inappropriate.
Whew! Okay! Here is the first chapter to Dimitri's Prequel:)
Disclaimer: I do not own Vampire Academy or its characters. Everything belongs to Richelle Mead.
"Dimitri. Dimitri!"
"Hmm?"
"Dimitri, wake up! The guardians are here to see you."
That got my attention. My eyes opened, my mind became alert, and I sat up simultaneously. Quickly I scanned my room for any immediate threats. I did this out of habit. I knew that 99.9% of the time nothing threatening would be there, but it was that .1% chance that made me do it. Nothing wrong with being prepared.
My teenage sister, Viktoria, stood in front of me with her hands on her hips, smiling. She always found it entertaining when I snapped to attention. I think she liked to judge my reaction time. I took a second to evaluate her for any signs of injury or anxiousness. (The guardians were the good guys, but you could never be too careful.) Her easy posture and calm eyes told me that she was okay. As she rolled her eyes at my assessment, I relaxed – a little.
"Why are the guardians here?" I asked.
She shrugged. "I don't know, but you'd better hurry up and get dressed. Mama is going to have a heart attack if you make her guests wait to eat a minute longer."
"Eat?"
"Yes, Sunshine. Having breakfast tends to entail eating."
I shot her a dry look, letting her know that I wasn't amused with her sarcasm. In return she gave me a warm and sympathetic smile. While she tried to hide it, I could still see the concern beginning to replete her face. She was one of the few, "the few" being the rest of my immediate family, who knew what I'd been going through this past week. And even they didn't really understand. I could tell that she was worried about what the guardians showing up would do to my emotional state.
"Don't look at me like that," I grumbled.
"Like what?"
"Like I'm broken or something."
"Easy, Dimka," she said gently. "I know you're not broken, but I do know you're in pain."
"I'm fine," I replied gruffly. She didn't believe it for a second.
"Don't do that," she chastised.
"Do what?"
"That thing you do when you're hurting but don't want anyone to know. You put up emotional barriers and don't let anyone in."
As much as any big brother hated to admit it, I knew Viktoria was right. I did put up walls to protect myself, and recent events had only reinforced them. People in the guardian profession couldn't afford to be emotional. In my world weakness lead to death, and emotion lead to heartbreak. I'd learned that the hard way.
I looked up at my sister. She had her long hair tied into a high ponytail. It was the same color as mine: a soft brown. Her dark eyes, also like mine, were studying me. Waiting to see if my expression would give something away. I wouldn't give her the satisfaction so I put on a reassuring smile and told her I'd be downstairs in two minutes.
Once she left, I got out of bed and changed into my guardian attire that hadn't been touched in a week: black slacks, white button up shirt, and a black jacket. Standard for all guardians. I quickly finished getting ready by brushing my teeth and tying my shoulder length hair into a low ponytail just above my neck. By doing this I exposed five molnija marks. One for each Strigoi kill I'd made. Thinking about them made me frown. I absolutely believed killing Strigoi was the right thing to do, but it was still technically taking a life and sometimes I found that hard to come to terms with.
Brushing all thoughts about Strigoi aside, I left my room and headed down the stairs. The polished wooden railing was smooth to the touch as my hand slid down it in perfect unison with my decent. A distant childhood memory flashed through my mind.
It was the beginning of summer break after my 6th grade year. That was the year that our combat training had been taken up a notch, and I had absorbed all of the advanced new moves hungrily, always wanting more. When summer came, I was disappointed that my training would be put on hold for two whole months. So I decided to train myself. I spent the whole summer racing through obstacles that I had set up around the house, and on occasion my sisters, who had all received their fair share of training (except Viktoria), would act as the Strigoi. I ran through all of the different courses at least twice a day, but my favorite obstacle was riding the railing down the stairs. I suppose it was less of a challenge or obstacle and more of a fun twist.
One day, while I was running through the routine courses, I decided to put cooking oil on the railing so that I would slide faster. My efforts would allow me to beat my fastest time, therefore, making me a better guardian. At least that's how I saw it.
I lined myself up at the start, then I hit the stopwatch and took off. I flew through the first part of the course; defeating evil pillows and cushions, maneuvering through mazes made with blankets, and jumping over and on to beds and dressers. When I reached the railing, I threw one leg over, straddling it, and then shoved off. I could feel myself going faster than I ever had before, and I couldn't wait to see my mama's face when she saw that I'd beaten my fastest time. My excitement was short lived, however, when I reached the end of the railing because rather than coming to a nice stop, I flew through the air about 8 to 10 feet. When I came back down to the ground, I landed directly on my right arm. Mama had been very concerned at first, but she quickly deduced the events that had lead to my accident so her concern turned into rage.
My mother, Olena, had never been a professional doctor, but she knew a lot and had many skills in the medical field. Many local dhampir even came to her with injuries rather than going to a hospital. So she was easily able to determine that my arm was broken, and then proceeded to set it, wrap it, and cradle it in a sling. To this day I hate the sight of slings.
It had been near the end of summer when this happened and so when we returned to school I was forced to sit out of combat training for two months; the exact amount of time I would've had to stop training if I'd just enjoyed my summer like any other novice. That's karma for you.
Thinking about that memory made me smile, but I put on a straight face as I neared the bottom of the stairs, wanting to look professional. The smile quickly returned, though, when I saw who was waiting for me. Volya Orlov, my favorite former instructor from school, sat at my dinning table with two other guardians I'd never seen before. His reaction to seeing me mirrored my own. A full smile parted his graying beard that he kept at a reasonably short length. His hair was a little thinner and his wrinkles a little deeper since I'd last seen him five years ago. Training novices was hard work. God knows how crude, disrespectful, and wild teenagers can be. I could imagine the amount of patience and control it would take to be an instructor, and I was thankful for not having that fate.
"There's my star student," Volya exclaimed as I entered the room. He had a booming voice that was thick with a Russian accent.
"Guardian Orlov," I chuckled. "It's been too long." He stood up and shook my hand then we both sat down.
"Indeed, it has," he agreed. "Guardian Belikov, I'd like you to meet Guardian Petrov and Guardian Alto."
My attention was drawn to the two stoic dhampirs who had remained silent throughout the reunion. Guardian Alto was an American man in his mid-thirties. He tightened his lips and gave me a nod. When he didn't offer me his hand I simply nodded back. I secretly wondered if he was just uncomfortable being in a dhampir community, or as they liked to call them "blood whore communes."
Turning to Guardian Petrov, I was pleased to see that she was a woman. Although my grandmother believed that dhampir women should stay home and raise children while the men protect the Moroi, I respected and encouraged the idea of female guardians.
Guardian Petrov was African American and a more seasoned guardian like Volya, and unlike Guardian Alto, she gave me a warm smile and offered me her hand.
"It'd a pleasure to meet you Guardian Belikov," she said. "I've heard many good things about you."
"The pleasure is all mine," I returned, taking her hand.
At that moment my mother and older sister, Karolina, walked into the room, carrrying plates filled with syrniki and sausage.
"You all must be so hungry from your long trip," my mother fussed. "If this isn't enough food we always have more."
I mentally rolled my eyes. Olena Belikova could be seen cooking at all times of the day. I truly believed that her greatest fear was having someone go hungry in her home.
"That won't be necessary Ms. Belikova. Thank you for your hospitality," Guardian Petrov insisted.
Mama was about to protest, but I shot her a look that said let it go. She nodded in acknowledgment and then she and Karolina went back to the kitchen. We all started eating our breakfast, and Volya made an effort to learn how I'd been and what I'd been up to since leaving the Academy. I didn't particularly like talking about myself so I tried to leave out as much as possible. Though there were a lot of stories to tell. My five years had been filled with a lifetimes worth of experiences, the five molnija marks proved it, but I just didn't feel like telling them. Thankfully my old instructor had more than enough stories to share. But as much as I enjoyed listening to them, I was curious as to why he and the other guardians were here at all. Once Volya finished a story about catching two novices drinking on Academy grounds, I interceded before he could launch into another.
"I hope I'm not being disrespectful by asking, but what is real reason you're here? Surely you and two guardians from America didn't come just to catch up."
Guardian Alto looked relieved that someone had finally said something about their mission. He didn't seem like the type to have warm reunions or happy conversation. Guardian Petrov's expression remained neutral, but it was clear that she was just as welcoming to the subject change by how quickly she answered me.
"You're absolutely correct Guardian Belikov. Our reason for being here is much more important so I'm going to be blunt. After the deaths of your charge and your partner, you have become an available guardian."
I flinched when she said "deaths of your charge and your partner." Ivan was more than just a charge, and even Daniil was more than just a partner. They had only been dead a week, which under normal circumstances that wouldn't have been nearly enough time to mourn, but I was under guardian circumstances. So giving me a week was pretty generous.
"We happen to be in need of a guardian," she continued. "And so Volya suggested you."
"We?" I asked.
"The Academy."
My eyes widened slightly in shock. The Academy wanted me? "Wait. You want me to come work at St. Basils?"
St. Basils was the Academy where I had received all of my training and eventually graduated from, receiving my promise mark.
"No, we'd like you to come to America. To St. Vladimir's Academy."
AN: What did we think? Thumbs up or thumbs down for middle school Dimitri? Please let me know if you think Dimitri is OOC or any other comments you have by leaving a review.
Also, I know this chapter was really short, but not all of the chapters will be like this, promise.
Thank you so very much for reading! Don't forget to follow or favorite if you like was you read:) Have a beautiful day!