The next few days were rough for Cer'iq. He kept to his room for the most part, hiding under the covers with his hands clamped firmly over his ears, trying to drown out any and all sounds. So far, he was failing miserably in that regard. With his advanced hearing, he couldn't help but hear snippets of the things his parents said, even though they were whispered from the other side of the house.
His parents were arguing with each other over what they should do about him and his problem, as they had taken to calling it. Apparently, this wasn't the first time something like this had happened with him. According to what he heard them say, he had been overtaken by his thirst at least two times before, once when he was only a baby, and then once when he was a couple of years old. His mother had fed him her own blood to sate his thirst. As you can imagine, that didn't make him feel any better.
His mother thought it would be wise to expose him more to humans, to get him used to being around them continuously, but his father disagreed, claiming that would only end in catastrophe. He thought it best to keep him away from humans and try to ween him off of it again. They bickered back and forth for a while about it before they changed the topic to that of the other issue… his magic …
He would need training. That much he had figured out on his own. The problem was how he would get the training and from whom. The School of War and Magic in Thais was out of the question, considering the family as a whole had basically just been banished from the city by the King himself. He wasn't stable enough to attend any school really, so that left only one real option; private instruction.
Cer'iq could think of only one person who qualified for the role, and his mother seemed to have the same idea, but sadly the idea was quickly shot down by his father who was adamantly against it. His father had never trusted Uncle Gyendal, even though he had never been anything but kind, doting upon his nephew. Cer'iq had never fully understood why that was. The only conclusion he was able to come to was that he hadn't forgiven Uncle Gyendal for the bad things he once did.
Eventually, the arguing stopped altogether, and he heard his parents make up, quietly reassuring each other that they would get through this.
The house was quiet for a while after that, allowing Cer'iq to form thoughts of his own. That wasn't necessarily a good thing. He kept replaying that moment over and over in his head as he nearly devoured his friend … ex-friend, he corrected himself. It was clear to him that their friendship had come to an end, and he couldn't blame them for that. Who would want to be friends with a monster like him?
Tears welled up in his eyes again. Reaching up, he wiped them away with his hands, startling himself when he saw that they weren't tears of clear water, but tears of blood. Immediately he jumped up, pushing back the covers and dashed across the room to the vanity that sat in the corner of his room.
The sight that met him in the mirror made him let out a startled scream. His appearance had changed! His reflection in the mirror was faint, but he could still see himself well enough to spot the differences. No longer were his eyes the bright purple that they had always been. Now they were the same deep shade as the bloody tears streaming down his face… And his face … his skin … It wasn't quite as pale as his mother's, but it was still several shades paler than it used to be. His hair was the only part of him that seemed to stay the same.
Just then, his parents burst into the room, stopping dead in their tracks when they saw what had prompted their son's scream.
Cer'iq could only see his father's faint reflection in the mirror, standing behind his own faint reflection. His mother was nowhere to be seen in the glass, even though he could sense her. It was then that he realized something … Something that he had known all along, but never fully understood.
From the very beginning, Cer'iq had always known that he was half-human and half-vampire, but he never fully grasped what it meant to be half-vampire. He finally understood what a vampire was. It was a creature of the night who lived off of blood. They killed innocent people because they were hungry… because it was their nature… because they would suffer if they didn't.
"My vampire side is taking over, isn't it?" It wasn't really a question, as he already suspected that to be the case, but he wanted to hear it from his parents' mouths.
His father nodded, his fists clenched in determination. "It's trying to, but we're not going to let that happen. We're going to help you fight it."
"How!?" Cer'iq snapped, feeling the frustration he felt course through him. Unfortunately, the moment he did so, his curtains lit on fire.
"Galahad, go fetch a pail of water to put that out," Te'ijal instructed, carefully approaching her son. "I'll try to calm him down."
Galahad lingered for a few moments, looking at his son with sad eyes. Eventually, he did as he was told after a stern glare from his wife and left the room, though reluctantly. They heard him grab a pail from the kitchen and head out of the house.
"I'm turning evil…" Cer'iq said through gritted teeth. "I'm a monster, just like Michael said."
Grasping him firmly by the shoulders, Te'ijal spun her son around so that he was facing her. "Tell me, do you regret what happened? Does the fact that you could have killed him make you feel disgusted with yourself?"
His mother had never been one to beat around the bush. She always spoke quite bluntly. She never sugar-coated anything, even when it came to the most disturbing topics. While it could be difficult to take at times, he admired that about her.
He nodded his head. "I've never regretted anything more," he replied. "I didn't mean to hurt him … I would go back and prevent it from happening if I could."
"Do you think a monster would feel that way?" She asked.
He considered the question for a moment before shaking his head. "I suppose not."
"No, a real monster would not be capable of feeling remorse. Therefore, you are not a monster," she began to explain. "Being a vampire is not easy, and most humans do not realize it. For those who are strong enough to hold onto their humanity, it is a constant battle fighting off the bloodlust. The struggle does not make you a bad person, but rather it makes you strong."
"So, I'm not evil … You don't hate me?"
"Of course not. I could never hate you, my little back-breaker," his mother said with a grin, her fangs just barely visible.
Cer'iq let out a small groan. He hated it when his mother called him that. It was one of those nicknames that mother's used to embarrass their children. Surprisingly, it didn't bother him as much this time, probably because of everything else that was going on.
"What … What about Father?" he asked timidly. "Does he hate me? For what happened or for the fact that I supposedly have dark magic?"
Of course, it was that exact moment in which his father chose to re-enter the room. His expression betrayed him right away. He had heard every word that was said. Setting the heaping pail of water down, he strode determinedly towards his son, kneeling down to his level.
"I do not hate you, Cer'iq. If anything, I hate myself for not having prevented such an accident. As your father, I cannot bear to see you hurt, and I know that you are hurt by this. I know it all too well, for I was once in your exact same shoes."
Cer'iq gave his father an odd look. "You lost control and tried to kill someone?" he asked, borrowing some of his mother's bluntness for the moment.
Galahad nodded his head, his eyes closed tightly as he recounted the memory. "It happened when I returned from saving your Aunt Mel in the Demon Realm. I didn't know it at the time, but a Demon had taken residence inside of me, urging me to do awful things. I snapped at Edward, much like you did at Michael, and I nearly strangled him. If I had held on for just a moment longer, I would have killed him."
Cer'iq was shocked, to say the least. Yes, he knew that his father had ventured into the Demon Realm to save Aunt Mel, but he hadn't known that he was possessed by a demon as a result. It certainly explained some things, such as his father's reaction as well as that of the King's. King Edward most likely still remembered that encounter and saw that the same thing was happening to his son. It was no wonder that he banished them as he did.
"The last thing I want is for you to make the same mistakes as me. I was horrified and disgusted, but only with myself for letting it happen," Galahad added. "As for the issue of your magic … I'll admit, I'm not exactly thrilled about it, but I don't hate you for it. I understand that your mother comes from a family of dark mages, which is where you inherited it from, and I know that doesn't make a person necessarily evil either. After all, Mel is one as well."
Cer'iq's heart flooded with joy and relief at his father's words. So much so that he couldn't help but launch himself into his father's arms. Hearing everything that his parents had told him made him feel much better, even if he did still feel guilty about what he had done. Above all, he was overjoyed that his father didn't hate him after all, and that he actually understood more than he initially thought.
The father and son duo remained in a tight embrace for a while. Te'ijal took the opportunity to grab the pail of water and put out the inflamed curtains. The water did the job, but it was clear to see that the curtains were going to need replacing, seeing as they were covered by holes and scorch marks.
"May I make a request?" Cer'iq asked, pulling away from his father's embrace to look up at both of his parents.
They both nodded their heads, giving him the go-ahead to continue.
"I overheard you talking earlier about training me in magic, and I know that you don't like Uncle Gyendal much, but I can't think of anyone I'd rather have as a magic teacher," he admitted. "I don't believe that Uncle Gyendal is evil either, despite everything that I've heard. He's had plenty of opportunities to get his revenge and try to take over the world again, but he hasn't."
"You are far too smart for your age. Of course, I'd expect nothing less from my son," Te'ijal remarked with a giggle. "I agree with you that my brother has more than proven himself, but your father doesn't seem to realize that."
Galahad sighed, taking a moment to ponder the issue further. "If you both feel so strongly about it, I suppose I have no choice but to allow it," he relented. "However, if you ever find him teaching you something that you don't agree with, or you don't think we'd agree with, you be sure to tell us, all right?"
Cer'iq nodded his head enthusiastically. "Thank you, Papa! I promise I will!"
Rising to his full height, Galahad ran a hand affectionately through his son's hair. "Don't thank me yet, we have yet to even ask him if he would be willing to take you on as his apprentice."
Cer'iq knew that but he didn't care. He was just too happy, his previous sorrows forgotten for the moment. Now that he knew that his father didn't hate him for possessing the gift of magic, he was finally able to let his excitement show. He had always been in awe of mages and the wonderful things they could do, so the thought of being able to do magic himself was thrilling.
"I'll fly over to Velderah and ask him myself," Te'ijal stated as she picked up the now empty pail and started out of the room. "And while I'm out, I might as well try to find you some new curtains."
"Ask Mel where she gets hers," Galahad called out to her. "She tells me that she bought them specifically because they're fireproof."
"Good idea," Te'ijal called back. "We will certainly need them, now that we have a firefly in the house."
Cer'iq groaned. "Not another nickname!"
Te'ijal and Galahad could only laugh.