Author's Note: Obviously this isn't cannon, and Seto will have some slight OOCness in later chapters. It was necessary for the progression of the story (sorry purists). This first chapter is a prologue, which means that its not needed to understand it, but it was something I felt was helpful, and fun to write. Seto will not be making an appearence till the next chapter. Skip on if you must. As always I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or its characters but I do own the OC's, places, and plot please contact me before reposting or using anything.

If there is in this world a well-attested account, it is that of the vampires. Nothing is lacking; official reports, affidavits of well-known people, of surgeons, of priests, of magistrates; the judicial proof is most complete. And with all that, who is there who believes in vampires?

-Rousseau

Prologue- Late summer 1616, between Moravia and the Kingdom of Hungary, on the border of the Holy Roman Empire, near the Danube River

The demon stared at the youngest son of the slain Duke awaiting an answer. The boy, almost breeching adulthood, squirmed uncomfortably on the log, weighing the consequences of his decision. The demon had saved his life, although unknowingly, and was now offering him the power to avenge his butchered family. This was the first time the pale skinned creature had shown any emotion, it had arrived at his father's castle the night of the attack, just appearing at the last moment. No one had seen it come in, though no guards had been able to see at that point. It was luck that the demon had knocked one of them into the fireplace rack, sending a poker skidding right next to the boys arm. It was even more dumb luck that the he had managed to stab the thing with it. The black haired boy fidgeted again, the gaze of this demon was unbearable— it was though it could see his soul. Had the boy not seen the way the demon fought, the way it moved or could move, he never would have known that it was anything less then human. All the same, once the creatures were killed, the demon had come to see about him, it had hardly spoken while it had bandaged his wounds. The seductive alto's words still rang in his head though the exchange had been nearly a month before. 'Are you familiar with your fathers lands?' 'I need you to guide me then, this wasn't the whole pack.' 'Gather your effects and ready a horse, the hunt will resume in the morning.' Over that month he'd watched the demon eradicate the horde, he'd even taken out a few stragglers as revenge, but now the demon had shed a new light on the whole situation. 'This wasn't the only group, there are more, there are always more… I'm offering you the power to avenge your family and prevent anyone else your loss.' The boy bit his lip still weighing consequences, the price for this power was high, sure, he could live with it now— but could he later?

"No matter if you like it or not you're now caught in the middle of a private war— that's my fault, I shouldn't have asked you to guide me … you now have two options… take my offer, have the power to fight back, or I can take you to a safe house… a village of hunters, you should be safe enough there… but those things know what you look like, you'll never be out of harm's way." Its voice floated to his ears, he stared into the campfire and continued weighing his options. "Tell me your decision at daybreak, I'm going to scout around." With that, it got up and disappeared into darkness as though it was made of it.

The boy spent the rest of the night staring into the ever-dwindling fire, trying to come to a decision. What would his family think of him if they were still alive? He silently cursed the demon again, it had been so driven to kill those other demons that he had not even been given time to give his family a proper burial. What sort of punishment would he receive because he failed to bury his family properly? Until now, he hadn't even had the time to think about things like that, the demons focus on the hunt had been infectious. What would God think of him if he did accept the demons offer? Would he be damned to hell eternally? Would God make an exception for him because although he would be damned he did it with the right intentions? Or was the demon right— their was no God to judge him? How would he change if he accepted its offer? Would it hurt? Would he be as strong as the demon said? He couldn't think of a list of pro's and con's only questions and more questions. The sun crept up on the horizon but he didn't even notice till he saw the black clad figure slink from the forests edge. It never said a word to him as it saddled its horse; it hadn't even acknowledged his presence.

"I…" his voice failed him. The demon slowly turned its head, the strange eyes regarding him coolly.

"Yes boy… have you made up your mind?"

"Yes… I don't want to be weak anymore… I don't want to be the victim."

"As you wish… but always remember, you chose this path, I never forced it upon you." The boy nodded. "Then pack up, I don't want to waste any sunlight."

"What? That's it?"

"No, we're going someplace I know we'll be safe."

They traveled for nearly four months, northwest, always northwest. The demon had lead him through Vienna, Augsburg, Strassburg, Metz, across the other border on the other side of the Holy Roman Empire to Verdun then Paris. The demon set a blistering pace. The temperature grew steadily colder with every step they took. The demon seemed oblivious, but it had bought him a heavy coat similar to the one it wore which the boy had found helped tremendously to keep the wind off and him warm. The demon had paid with silver coins, and he had asked if it too was nobility, it had only smiled, flashing its abnormally white teeth, and said that he would find out soon enough. After sailing the Channel they continued their trek northward though the lands with the greenest of grass the boy had ever seen, the people in this land also looked different then any the boy had seen. Their hair was like fire, his was like everyone in his father's lands, ebony black. They traveled late into the evening many nights before the demon would finally stop and allow him to make camp, though the demon usually left and returned in the morning, but one night the demon took a fork in the road, an obviously less traveled path, and said that in three days time he would begin to loose his humanity. And, in three days time they rounded a bend and the boy gasped. Standing atop a rock cliff was one of the most beautiful castles he'd ever laid eyes on. It was huge, sprawling across the ground as though the owner had no regard to the cost it took to build it. They entered the castle and the servants bowed their head and stepped out of the demons way as though they were revering their Sovereign. Could this demon be the owner of this castle? The boy's thoughts wandered with the implications of that question, so much so that he hardly noticed where this demon was leading him. Though he quickly realized it as a bedroom— its bedroom to be exact.

"The bed is though that door, though I suggest you not rest today… soon you will be so weak that you will be bound to it." The boy stared at the demons back, now afraid of what he had gotten himself into. "I'll begin tonight, so ready yourself."

The demon stayed true to its word, after the boy had eaten dinner, of which he noted the demons absence, he returned to the demons bedroom to find it waiting for him. It didn't say a word as it walked up to him and reached over his shoulder locking the door while staring at him with those god-awful eyes. It smirked when he finally couldn't hold its gaze and looked down. A perfectly smooth uncalloused finger curled under his chin, forcing him to look back up, the demon's skin was cool and as soft as velvet. It leaned close, still staring at him, watching him for any sign of reaction. A chill ran up the boy's spine, causing him to repress a shutter as the demon leaned closer yet. The boy started to lean back, what was the thing trying to do kiss him?

"Actually, that's exactly what I had in mind." It purred as it stole a kiss, the boys mind cried out that this was wrong, but he found his body unable to put up any sort of resistance. He was completely under its control; his fate was no longer in his own hands.

That was the first night that the demons fangs broke the boys skin, though in the following weeks the demon didn't only bite his neck, it quite thoroughly explored the humans body. The boy had found that the initial bite was always excruciatingly painful, it was like two arrows being shot through your body, but in a short time the pain would subside and a sort of ecstasy would follow. He quickly found the demons touch to be addictive, when he wasn't asleep or in the demons company he found his thoughts continuously returning to the demons kiss, its caress. After one evening where the demon had enjoyed not only the boy's blood, but his body, did the demon finally ask if he was ready to loose his humanity. The demon was quick explain that the boy's body had to be weak in order for the transformation to begin, and if not he ran the risk of dying as a human before the demon blood could resurrect him. The boy nodded his agreement as he watched the demon produce a stiletto from the nightstand and slit its wrist then offer it for the boy to drink from.

He hesitantly drank and found the demons blood to have a warming effect. Like drinking whiskey, it seemed to loosen him up somewhat. The demon was fast to pull its hand away, saying that their would be more in the following days. And though their was more, the boy found their were side effects to the demons blood. He had a fever he couldn't break, he would vomit even when he had nothing in his stomach, he had no appetite and if he did eat his body would reject it. He had a migraine that lasted for days without any relief, sometimes the slightest noise of someone outside the door would seem as though they were shouting in his ear, other times he seemed incapable of hearing anything at all. The boy noticed this fluctuation with all of his senses, sometimes he could see so well he could count the threads in the sheets, other times he could barely see his demon master when it came to tend to him. However, by far the worst part of his transformation was when his body felt as though it was on fire. On top of the fever, sometimes it would feel as though someone was burning off an arm, a leg, and any other body part. The demon said it was his nerves being reset, the boy could care less, all he knew was how horrible it hurt, it was hundreds of times worse then when his foot would fall asleep and come back around. After he would have one of these spells the very clothes he wore and blankets that lay atop of him would seem too coarse to his skin and he inevitably would rip them off only to realize that the movement of the air in the room would cause pain as well.

When it came to telling time his senses did him no good, and ultimately the boy lost track of it. Day merged with night, and night with day. Most of his time was spent in slumber. When he had the strength, he would sometimes try to read one of the many books his demon master would leave at its bedside. Though he found he lacked the ability to read the strange glyphs, he enjoyed looking at the gold filigree adorned pages and making up what the text was about. It became a routine of sorts, the demon would wake him, usually drain him of more of his blood, then coerce him into eating though he had long since lost his appetite, but no matter if he refused food he would always be forced into drinking more of the demons blood. In his weakened state, he was far to helpless to resist being forced to drink its blood, even though he wanted. The more the boy had thought about it, the more the idea of drinking the demons blood had disgusted him, though now he was unable to do anything about it.

The boy found that when his master was present, no matter if it was merely in the room or if he was cuddled up to its shoulder, that he would fail to dream. The moment the demon left however, he would start dreaming, of deserts though he had never seen one. Of magic and sorcery, he would see faces, they tried to speak to him though he could no more understand their tongue then he could read his masters books. He witnessed everything as though he was looking though a veil, as if their was something clouding the dream. The people wore the most peculiar clothing; some in tall hats and long skirts and no shirts. One carried a solid gold scepter; others wore some sort of ceremonial robe. But above them all one stood out- he was the King that much the boy was sure of. He had by far the most unusual appearance— spiky multicolored hair and a necklace that he never took off. The worst part of these dreams were not he people he saw, but the magic he witnessed. These people could summon and command great dragons and beasts, this struck fear into his very soul. He had always assumed that when the priests had mentioned wizards, or burned a woman as a witch that they were killed for another reason and being were being labeled as such as a cover, but he had been proven wrong.

His dreams slowly moved out of the deserts and into lands that looked more familiar to him. The clothing of the people he saw became more modern as well. As time passed, his dreams grew clearer, like the veil was lifted. Then because his dreams became even more recent the line between dreaming and waking lost its dividing line, along with what was real and unreal. Though he still slept most of the days away, he was even unsure if what he saw truly existed or was another dream. The wars he had learned about as a child he could recount in first person as though he had seen it with his own eyes and wielded the sword in his hands.

He awoke from those dreams one night, his master sitting at his bedside, smiling down at him. But the boys vision was still bungled, at first he could see his master so clearly it almost hurt, but at the moment he was about to shut his eyes due to pain his vision blurred so much he could hardly see his masters face. Then he felt it, a searing pain just to the left of the center of his chest— his heart. The next thing the boy knew he was in a fit of convulsions, but his fever was broke. His master grimaced as though it was sharing in his pain as it watched him try to fight his muscles that were now running ice water. The boy's vision blurred more— then went black. His hearing followed a similar pattern, peaking at the point where it was almost painful before plummeting to the point where it was no longer of use. The rest of his senses followed suit, smell, taste, his sense of touch was the last thing to go. The demon had taken his hand and he had squeezed it tight, using it as a lifeline before it too faded. Then his lungs began to burn and the boy realized that this was death and their was nothing he could do. He would have to place his trust in the demon and hope that he would be resurrected, if not he could only pray that he would see his family again.

The boy slowly drifted back to consciousness sometime later; velvety soft skin pushing his bangs out of his face. He opened his eyes, everything was crystal clear then he realized their wasn't a lit candle in the room and yet he could see in color as though it was midday. He could hear the people on the floor below talking as though he was in the room with them. He could smell the faintest scent of wine on the demon's hands as it brushed a few more of his locks out of his face. The air in his lungs seemed— unnecessary. All of his senses seemed so high. They were all better then they ever had been, better then he could have ever dreamt they could be. Sight, smell, taste, touch, hearing, all at least a hundred times better then before. He opened his mouth in awe, realizing what he had been missing as a human when he noticed it. There was a faint taste in his mouth, blood, his master's blood. He swallowed trying to rid the ridiculously delicious flavor from his mouth lest he attack his master wanting more, and then he noticed them, his eye teeth, canines… pointed. He gasped slightly, the demon had stayed true to its word, and he was now a demon too. He looked over at the demon that still was smiling down at him.

"Happy Birthday Devlin"