"Listen to your uncle, Clara, and do not try to follow me like last time." Melchiah stood in his full armour, clan symbol painted on the right shoulder, in front of the assembled clan with a human attendant holding his black warhorse. The Clan Lord looked tired and strained; he did not wish to go to war, not now, but an order from Lord Kain was an order. Melchiah took his helmet from his daughter who was dressed in simple red silk robes with a heavy yellow cloak thrown over her shoulders. She was twelve now, and was already turning into a young woman before Melchiah's eyes. Her hair, once placed into curls, now fell down to her shoulders in waves and was decorated with a few silver pins in the shape of dragonflies. If it had been in his power, Melchiah would have stopped time. Unfortunately, not even the most powerful of sorcerers could freeze the sands of Time.

The Clan Lord looked past Clara and saw Raziel standing off to one side; the older brother silently nodded. Raziel could understand the inner debate raging inside of Melchiah, but it was neither his place nor the time to speak it. Even if he was Kain's first-born, Raziel knew that it was not his place to interfere with the business of other Clans save his own. And Raziel could understand why Melchiah did not want to leave.

More than anything else Melchiah did not want to go off to fight the humans; he wondered why they did not give in quietly and avoid the needless bloodshed and pain. Rubbing one talon across his face he looked into Clara's eyes. "Promise me that much."

She curtsied in front of him, bowing her head slightly. "Yes father, I will not follow you like last time. I promise you by the Soul Reaver. Never will I repeat the same mistake like last time."

Last time.

By the Dark Gods and everything that was unholy, what had Clara been thinking when she had secretly hidden amongst the ranks of the vampires as they marched off to attack the kingdom of Skye? If one of Melchiah's officers had not seen Clara's eyes underneath the visor of the helm she had worn, so unlike the yellow cat's eyes of vampires, then most likely she would have been impaled on a spear when the attack had begun. Clara had been taken back to the lines to await her father Melchiah; the vampire lord still frowned at the memory. She had only been eleven and had thought to carry the whole war on her own shoulders. Zephon had come to retrieve her personally and even the fifth eldest had spoken to Melchiah later that he had perhaps judged Clara too harshly.

Like Zephon could truly say anything about parenthood.

The sky rumbled overhead; the dark clouds heavy with rain threatened to come down at any moment. What an inauspicious beginning to a military campaign, Melchiah thought grimly. "As my territory is the closest to the human rebels, and since I have to take my vampires with me, it would leave the palace unguarded and you as well. Raziel will care for you in the time that I am gone Clara, and I would feel all the better knowing that you are safe."

"And how do you think I feel about you going to the battlefield alone, father?" Clara blinked quickly as she looked at her father, holding back tears that she did not want anyone else to see. The warhorse pawed the ground impatiently, ready to be underway. The bridle clinked; that was the only other sound in the air besides the Melchiahim vampires talking quietly among themselves in the ordered ranks.

"I shall be safe. I am a Clan Lord, remember?" The youngest of the Lieutenants placed his helmet on, partially to protect himself from the rain that would soon fall but also to not see Clara's tears . . . and to not lose the resolve he had built up. It would do no good for him now to try and back out of this mission. Clara nodded and gave something of a smile. Brave child, she was trying to hold everything in. Melchiah promised he would make this all up to her, somehow. Clara embraced her father, pressing her forehead up against his chest plate and holding him tightly, as if a sudden gust of wind would carry him away from her. Whispering soothing words, Melchiah patted Clara on the back and gently pushed her away. Without another word, he turned away from her and mounted his warhorse. The human servant bowed and backed off.

Someone blew a trumpet from the palace battlements. With barely a nod in Clara's direction, her father turned the horse around and began to march with the rest of the Melchiahim clan out of their ancient stronghold. Clara stood on the palace steps and watched the army recede from her vision. She did not move as the last vampire marched out of the tall gates, and stood as still as a statue even when the last pendant had vanished from view. The human servants closed the iron gates with a resounding clang, and although Clara tried to hide it, Raziel could see the sadness on her face.

"He will be all right, Clara." Raziel came up beside his niece and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "If there is anything I know about your father, he always keeps his promises. And since he did promise to come back, then come back he shall." Clara glanced at her uncle, then back at the closed gate. Raziel quickly picked up on what she was thinking. "And do not even think of going after him again. You gave a promise."

"Sometimes promises have to be broken. That's the whole point to them," she replied with a huff and stomped away from Raziel, up the palace steps and past the servants.

Raziel raised an eyebrow and called over his shoulder, "Oh, and where did you hear that from? I do not recall your father or I ever telling you such a thing."

"Uncle Zephon told me that and I think it is the damn best piece of advice he ever gave me," Clara shot back before she slammed the main palace doors behind her. Then she quickly opened the door and looked at Raziel. "And yes I said damn! I don't care if it is a swear word or not; uncle Dumah says that is what swear words are for, after all. And I do not give a care if you do tell my father I said that!" Clara closed the door behind her; crashing the wood into the frame was more like it.

Raziel sighed deeply and massaged his temples. This was Clara's way of dealing with the absence of her father; the Lieutenant only hoped that she would not be acting like this for the rest of the week. Raziel quickly marched up the palace steps and into the massive edifice to find Clara and help her get ready to leave.

* * * *

"These shall be your rooms until further notice. My servants will bring up your things later." Raziel waved a talon around the room as Clara stood beside him. They were standing in the parlor, a circular room with three doors in front of them that led off to the bedroom, on the right, the washroom in the middle and off to the left the changing rooms. The white marble floor was streaked with black veins and on the walls were painted murals of mystical creatures. "Now if you would like, I could give you a grand tour of my home."

Clara poked her head through each door, looking at every room in turn, then looked back at her uncle. "My rooms at home are bigger."

"Well the only other rooms that are bigger than these ones are mine Clara, and I am not about to move out of them to appease you," Raziel gave a smug smile, waiting for Clara to counter.

She defiantly put her hands on her hips, a small smile also beginning to form on her lips. "Then maybe I should just head back home and wait there."

"And if you do that, then I will go over there, grab you by the arm, flip you over onto my back, and bring you back here. And then I shall have to place you in one of the dungeons to make sure you will not run off again." Clara's eyes widened, not believing that her uncle would actually do that. "And I am sure that your father would agree with me on that, Clara."

"Oh, fine then!" Clara took off her cloak and threw it on one of the high-backed chairs in the parlor. "You win this round, uncle Raziel!"

"Of course I do. I'm your uncle, after all."

"And what does that mean?" Clara looked at one of the murals showing a phoenix rising from the ashes.

"That you have to respect me because I am older, and also a Clan Lord." He extended a hand to her. "Come. You would enjoy seeing my palace. Granted while it is not home to you, I want you to be as comfortable as possible during your stay here and to not get lost. Some of these hallways and staircases can take you to places that even I did not know existed."

Clara took her uncle's hand in her own and laughed. "That's kind of sad, uncle Raziel. Getting lost in your own house." Raziel stifled a chuckle and pretended to look insulted.

"Some of these halls have a life of their own. Granted I do not need a map of my palace like uncle Zephon does, I sometimes do get lost but I am more or a-"

"Uncle Zephon needs a map to find his way around his own house," Clara asked skeptically.

Raziel nodded. "Yes, he does. But don't tell him that I told you that. He might come after me with something large and heavy." The vampire whispered the last, then winked and tapped his nose with a claw. Clara laughed loudly as she tried to imagine Zephon getting lost in his own house.

Raziel led Clara down the hall, away from her room and towards the western towers that, on a clear night, offered a fine view of the Nosgoth mountains and even the ocean beyond. He took her to see the hanging gardens, filled with plants that could be found nowhere else, and the stables. Clara quickly became attached to a small white filly, stroking the animal's small head and feeding it oats all the while saying she was the prettiest horse Clara had ever laid eyes on. Raziel mentally reminded himself to give this filly to Clara when it was time for her to leave. The vampire lord recalled Melchiah saying that he did not want his older brother to spoil Clara, but Raziel quickly banished the voice.

He would do anything for his only niece.

The clouds, which had been heavy with rain, finally opened up with streaks of lightning and soaked the earth that evening. Raziel and Clara were dining on one of the terraces, safely out of the way of the rain. Raziel did not need to 'eat'; he had already consumed blood beforehand but Clara was attacking her food with less than perfect table manners. The cook had prepared her a steak that Raziel thought Clara couldn't have finished but she did, as well as potatoes she did not touch and rice that was 'mysteriously' vanished yet the Clan Lord knew she did not eat.

"Do you think my father is all right?" The sudden question surprised Raziel, who had been lulled into a trance as he heard the rain fall to the ground below. A group of candles cast long reflections across the table and up against the far wall. Raziel turned to Clara, her face half-hidden in shadow and half in light. It might have just been a trick with the candles but for a moment the vampire assumed that Clara's eyes looked far older than before.

Clasping his hands together and leaning back in his chair, Raziel watched a bolt of white lightning pierce the dark sky and for a moment illuminate everything in the harsh light. "I would be lying Clara if I said I knew. I do not know how your father is but," Raziel gave a shuddering sigh, "I am just as worried as you. But knowing Melchiah and his clan, they are doing fine."

"I hope so," Clara said. "One of these days, when I am older, do you think I could accompany him or you into battle?"

"That is not for me to decide," Raziel shook his head. "That is for your father. But Clara, you should retain your innocence as long as possible. In this world now, with so many changes and so many dangers, you should cling to what you have. Battle is not as glorious as you think; it does not play out the way you have read it in books or have heard it in bards' tales. The truth is much more," he searched for the word, "shocking."

"With the way things are going, I don't think there will be any battles for me to fight when I am older. All the humans are now living in the Citadel, near to the southern lake. They do not come out anymore and don't cause trouble."

"Maybe it is for the better," Raziel frowned at Clara's plate. "Are you going to finish those potatoes or not, Clara?"

* * * *

The rest of the week past in a blur, in Raziel's own opinion. For the first two days Clara insisted that her uncle show her the staircases and halls that led to nowhere. The did get lost for awhile, to Clara's great delight, but managed to come back to civilization when the twelve-year-old followed the air currents back to the Razielim Clan's hanging gardens. Following that excursion which the Lieutenant never hoped to repeat, he had taken Clara horseback riding all the way to Rahab's Drowned Abbey. She had refused to ride side-saddle and had only stopped her complaining when she had gotten a proper saddle. They did not stay long over at Rahab's; Raziel insisted that Clara was tired from the ride when in fact she wasn't. It was the only excuse the first-born could think of to keep Clara away from Rahab and to himself. Looking back on that Raziel realized that he was being selfish, but he had been told to care for Clara until Melchiah came back and he would stick to those words.

On the last day that Clara was to stay with Raziel, a caravan of gypsies had been given permission by the Clan Lord to camp in his domain as they passed through, and to remain unmolested by his vampires. Clara, after hearing from both the Razielim vampires and the human servants the wares the gypsies had been selling, had convinced Raziel to bring her to the camp. In truth Raziel had wanted to go himself but other work had kept him from leaving. With Clara as the excuse to back away from official if tedious duties, Raziel left with his niece to the colourful tents of the gypsies as night fell.

Gypsies were the only humans who gave neither allegiance to Lord Kain or to the humans. Outcasts amongst the humans and held with some fear by the vampires, the gypsies had a wary truce with the Clans. They did not bother them as long as they were not bothered in return. And it was rumored that most vampires had lived their human lives, for the most part, as gypsies and a few wayfarer vampires traveled with the caravans. Raziel had seen many gypsies before; had seen their tents and their wares beforehand but Clara had never encountered gypsies. They had stayed away from the Melchiahim territories for obvious reasons. Now walking down the road towards the camp, seeing his vampires and servants coming and going, Raziel couldn't help but smile as he saw the look on Clara's face. She looked like such a child again.

The tents were a bright myriad of silks sewn together in patterns that both pleased and baffled the eye. Some tents had pendants outside the entrances showing what the owner had to sell. The Clan Lord noted with some displeasure that many of his children were lining up outside the tent of a fortuneteller. Obviously they wanted to see what the rest of eternity had in store for them. Clara squealed with delight as she saw a gypsy breath fire for a crowd; a puppet show going on, the story about Lord Kain destroying the last of the Sarafan, and a man swallowing swords.

"I would like to view the booths, uncle Raziel." Clara tugged insistently on her relative's arm and nearly pulled him over to one of the tents, a midnight blue, was selling carved jewelry. Quickly looking at the wares, Clara moved onto the next tent and then the one after that, her eyes quickly appraising everything.

"Do you see anything you like, Clara?" The first-born son of Kain questioned his niece as she turned a jewelry box trimmed in gold and ivory over in her hands. On the front was a carving of a rose, rising up slightly. Clara opened the box and out came a few strands of music. The melody seemed haunting to Raziel but Clara closed her eyes and swayed slightly from side to side, oblivious to anything else but the music. "Clara?"

The young girl opened her eyes and smiled. "This is beautiful, isn't it? I haven't seen anything like this in my whole life." She turned to the owner of the tent, a middle-aged man with an oiled mustache. "Where did this come from?"

The gypsy twirled the end of his mustache around one finger and gave a toothy grin to Clara. Raziel saw that two of the human's teeth were pure gold. "That came from across the ocean and to the west, milady. I came across that when I was younger and it seems someone is finally able to know beauty when they see it."

Raziel knew what the question would be before Clara even asked it, just as he knew the answer before he spoke it. "Could I have this, uncle Raziel?" The vampire lord took the box from his niece and examined the craftsmanship. He truly wanted to see if there was any fault under his close inspection but his keen eyes could detect nothing. Raziel would buy only the best for his niece.

"Yes Clara." Raziel handed the jewelry box back to the young girl, who held it protectively in her hands, and turned to the gypsy. "What is the price?"

"For you, Clan Lord, absolutely nothing. You have given us gypsies haven here when no one else would, and this is my way of thanking you." The man bowed to the vampire lord in front of him. Raziel gave a slight nod of his head and left the tent with Clara beside him.

"And now I can place all my jewelry in here," she said. "Like that jade necklace you have given me. Thank you, uncle Raziel." Clara hugged her uncle as they walked back to his palace.

"Think nothing of it, Clara. Think nothing of it."

The two continued on in silence back to the palace. Clara, although too old to sleep with dolls, or at least in the opinion of Matron, still kept her rag doll with her when she went to bed. As Raziel tucked his niece in for the night, muttering to himself how the week passed by so quickly, his eyes caught on the frayed doll. It looked in need of new hair, not to mention some new clothing, but Clara held it close to her chest as if it was the most precious thing in the whole world to her. In a sense it was; a tangible link to her father who would be coming back tomorrow. Raziel had received a message saying such a few moments after he had come back to his dwellings.

The Lieutenant silently mused to himself that perhaps, if he prayed just hard enough, maybe he would be lucky to have some infant dropped at his doorstep.

Melchiah's army returned victorious, as if there would be any doubt about that. The Melchiahim clan had only suffered minor losses, but the human rebellion had been shattered for lack of a better word. Mayhap in later years another mortal would attempt to fight the vampire overlords, but for the moment the memories and wounds were still fresh and time did not heal all wounds. Clara had run towards her father the moment he came back through the gates; the vampire had picked his daughter up easily and held her on his lap as he rode the rest of the way home. Raziel, who watched from the sidelines, could not help but feel envious for his youngest brother. Father and daughter, both smiling, both content to be back with each other.

"Two peas to a pod," he muttered to himself as he turned to leave. The Melchiahim clan had celebrating to do, thankful to have come back to their family and friends alive and well.

Later that week, as another gift from Raziel to Clara, a small white filly appeared in the stables for the child.

* * * *

"You spoiled her rotten. I knew you would not listen to me no matter what I said. It is always like you." Raziel tried to give the most innocent and charming smile as he rose to leave. Melchiah was shaking his head at the eldest sibling.

"So perhaps I did. But does that matter?" He replaced the jewelry box on the desk, running his talon one last time over the rose. "She had matured a lot since the last time I had seen her. More willful and impulsive as well. Who do you think taught her that?"

Melchiah shrugged his shoulders. "How should I know? Perhaps she got it from me, but I think that is highly unlikely." He sighed for a moment, and then gave a wistful smile. "Perhaps she learned that from Kain. I believe that was where she learned to become somewhat stubborn. Do not tell father I said that," he added hastily. Raziel shook his head.

"Whatever is said between us remains a secret, Melchiah. But I think Lord Kain would be quite flattered to know he managed to teach Clara something. In fact-" A heavy hand descended on Raziel's shoulder; the eldest whirled around quickly to see who had snuck up behind him. The intruder had been so quiet that even Melchiah had not been aware of the person's presence.

"What is all of this? A meeting and I was uninvited. Really, and here I was thinking you brothers thought better of me." The vampire lord tisked.

"Hello Turel. I thought you were leading a group of vampire worshippers through one of the many rites that they make for us." Melchiah leaned against one of the bedposts and looked at the second eldest, standing even taller than Raziel with his emerald green clan cape thrown over one shoulder.

The mage snorted and made a rude gesture with his hands. "They do not need me to preside over their petty ceremony. I have much better things to do with my time. And besides," Turel dropped his booming voice down to a low whisper, "once you have seen one ceremony, with its dull and dreadful hymns, then you have seen them all. Trust me, I know."

"I do not doubt you on that."

"So what were you two talking about? Conspiring behind my back? Devising a prank on someone?" He glanced from Raziel to Melchiah and back again.

"Far from it." Melchiah's voice sounded tired to Turel's ears, but the emotion did not cross his face. "We were talking about…Clara."

The second-born nodded sagely. "Would it be inappropriate for me to add my own tale?"

Melchiah smiled. "Not at all." Raziel made a distressing noise, making the Lieutenant turn to give. "What?"

"I just remembered. I need to go and speak with Lord Kain. Something that slipped my mind beforehand now has just resurfaced." Raziel mock-slapped himself on the face.

Turel chuckled. "Well Raziel, it is good to know that your head is not completely empty in there. There actually is a brain inside, only when it cares to work mind you." Raziel rolled his eyes at Turel as he stalked past his brother. "Just remember," Turel called after him, "if you keep slapping yourself in the face, then I won't be able to call you the many funny nicknames I have given to you over the centuries." The first-born yelled something back to Turel that Melchiah missed but was quite sure he did not want to hear to begin with. Clapping his hands, the mage glanced around the room and pulled out one of the low chairs to seat himself down.

"So what have you to recall, sibling?" Melchiah leaned forwards slightly from the bed.

Turel rubbed his chin and appeared thoughtful. "I have many memories with Clara, but one in particular stands out. It was the time I took her to the human Citadel. She had been asking to got there for weeks on end, and since you never got around to going there, I decided to take her." He saw the dumbfounded look on Melchiah's face. "What, you never knew of this? Oh yes, Clara and I promised complete secrecy, making a pact." Turel's eyes darted around the room. "But that does not seem to matter anymore."

"I would be very interested to learn what you showed my daughter at the Citadel, Turel." Melchiah put heavy emphasis on the word my. The second eldest smiled, showing his fangs.

"I regret bringing her with me in later years, but she was destined to find out sooner or later."

"About what, Turel? Do not play games with me, brother. I want to truth."

"And that was what Clara learned, dear Melchiah. She learned the truth between humans and vampires, and what separates them from us. God, I was stupid bringing her to the Citadel. I should never have listened to her..."