Eternally Yours
A.N. Yay a review! Haha, thankyou Aragorn dude. This is a pre-written chapter again, just a little modified from last time. I hope I get some more readers though o.o Well, patience is a virtue I guess . Not much else to say so…enjoy!
"….." speech
'…..' thoughts
Chapter 2:
"VIIIIDEEEEEL!"
A young, blue haired vampire stormed through the dark, shadowed halls of the sanctuary castle, heavy footsteps padding across the stone floors. Candles flickered as she passed, eerie shadows wavering to and fro on the gloomy and grey stonewalls. It was all the perfect imagery for her mood; extreme frustration and agitation.
'Ugh, I really don't need this right now. Why the hell do I bother? Dratted child! Why do I have to be so trusted by the master to babysit? I guess the good thing is that I get loads of items for my projects. But I won't be getting anything for a lost child…Dammit, she's gotta be somewhere!'
"VIDEL! WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"
The young, five year old girl in question sat alone in the exact centre of a dimly lit, messy and unorganised room. The floor was a dusty and dirty, black marble in desperate need of a sweep and scrub. It was a perfectly square shaped room that resembled an antique store. Infact, the whole castle was like a museum; filled with ancient artefacts and collectors items from the years gone by.
The girl had raven black, wavy hair that fell to her shoulders, just about. She would've resembled a cherubin, but was far from angelically holy, although she did wear an old fashioned white dress complete with frilly petticoats, ribbons, and bows, and her mind was still innocent and naïve as she learned the ways of her kind. However, the knee length dress revealed the fact that she wore no shoes, and preferred to go bare-footed; a wild child of nature. Her astonishing rich but light blue-lilac eyes were fixed on a single painting that hung above the black, unlit, Victorian fireplace. The 8 by 8 foot painting depicted the image of a young and beautiful woman in the centre. The background was a section of the grand castle gardens, and she held in her arms a baby wrapped in white cloths. Several small children crowded around her, clutching onto her thigh and the long, deep red, Egyptian style dress that she wore. A proud smile completed her perfectly heart shaped but very pale face, and her black and silver-grey hair flowed behind her like a waterfall, cascading over her shoulders. She was the mother of all vampires, the mate of the Master, and the young girl's true, biological mother.
"VIDEL!"
The voice of the girl's current babysitter was getting closer and therefore louder, and the young girl curled up into a ball on the circular, white, fluffy rug in the centre of the room. She came to the room very often, simply to gaze in peaceful solitude at the mother that she didn't know and never really would, in person at least. The room was located in the quiet, forth floor eastern wing in the castle. Cobwebs and dust accumulated on literally every object in the room, from the red velvet chairs in the corner, to the Greek statues of ancient Gods, Goddesses, and mythical beings. A large, purple coloured spider spun its' web on the jail like, metal bared window, adding to the already cloudy and dusty stained glass. The moonlight barely managed to shine through, adding a bleak and cold atmosphere to the room. It shone directly onto the middle of the room, highlighting the sad and cold features of the child. She blinked, a single crystal clear tear falling down her cheek as her focus remained on the portrait.
"Just a little longer," she murmured, hoping her minder could hear her in advance. She wanted to be with her mother, and this was the closest she could get to that wish. But she longed for her mother's gentle and warm touch of reassurance and love, something no other person could ever give her. The 'last child' had managed to block out the constant shrieks and constant calls from her minder, but her ears suddenly pricked as she heard the pitter patter of footsteps echoing down the corridor. Within moments, the heavy door opened with an audible eerie creek, followed by the clicks of heels on the marble floor.
"Videl, finally! I've been looking for you everywhere sweetie. You know you're not meant to be in here, how many times do I-"
"But, daddy let's me go where I please Bulma." No one could or would deny that the girl was slightly spoilt, and spoke her mind very easily. She was a well-mannered girl, with etiquette and a well-spoken voice, even in her youth. Bulma sighed with impatience and exhaustion from her long search for the girl.
"But if he knew you came here, then I'm sure he'd be upset. Besides, you shouldn't just go running off! This place is so big, it takes me ages to find you." Yet Videl remained curled up in a ball, not even looking at Bulma, who walked further into the room. It made her appear ignorant and stubborn, but also, apologetic.
"I'm sorry."
Bulma sighly lightly, and Videl finally turned her head to see her minder kneeling beside her. A smile teased the corners of her mouth and she lifted herself into a sitting position, the traces of tears glistening under the moon's rays. Bulma's eyebrows twitched together, and she wiped away the dry tears using the pads of her fingers. It was very unusual for a vampire to cry, especially real tears, but Videl was no ordinary vampire.
"You shouldn't do this to yourself Videl. Everytime you come here, you end up crying." Her voice was soft, almost mothering, with a hint of her stern nature.
"I can't help it, I just, cry. Bulma, did you know my mother?" The older vampire sighed and got to her feet, helping Videl up too as she offered her hand to her.
"Videl, you've asked me that question over and over!" The young girl frowned and pouted, looking up at Bulma, who smiled and rolled her dark blue-green eyes. "Your mother graced our home for many years, before I was even born and sired. I had the honour of meeting her not long after I myself was sired by one of her sons. She truly was a mother to all of the kindred; caring, loving, protective, but also stern, stubborn, and harsh. Her death vanquished the existence of emotions. Love, in particular. It is a sorry state and loss, to all of the Kindred."
Videl stared at Bulma as she spoke, trying to understand as best she could. She was intelligent for her five years of age, and was a keen and attentive listener, even if she didn't always understand very well. She was the type of child who would go away and ponder, to at least try to comprehend to the best of her abilities.
"Anyway, how about we go check on your dad?" Videl nodded enthusiastically, bringing a smile to Bulma's face. She'd always wanted a child of her own, and she had to admit, she did care very much for Galadria's last daughter.
In the large, main hall of the castle, a meeting of vampires had gathered in order to discuss certain important issues. The master sat at the head of the table on his black throne, the frame entwined with black, metal thorns. The loss of his mate five years ago had transformed him into a frail and weak vampire. His rugged, handsome and youthful looks had become even paler and, sad to say, not so attractive and youthful. His incredibly handsome square shaped face had become drawn and thin. Several lines on his brow and at the corner and bottom of his eyes gave the appearance of ageing, with the addition of blackened shadows under his sharp cheekbones and piercing, red and black eyes. Around the large mahogany table sat nine elders, and the strongest nine members of the elite kindred. They were engaged in the heat of a dispute, one of many infact, and Valvador's anger was at an evident boiling point.
"Your grace."
Valvador snarled at the stubborn owner of the irritating voice. The elders hadn't, for some strange and unknown reason, inherited the Master's youthful appearance. Perhaps it was due to the fact that they only drank from the wisest of mortals, who were usually the eldest. And so, the elders resembled old, frail men, who became even older and frailer as the years passed. The term; 'living dead,' really did apply to this type of vampire. However, even so, they were respected and held in great esteem by the kindred, since they were so wise and learned from the experiences of their long lives. Such respect also gave them high egos, and so, they were possibly the only vampires who had the courage to question the Master's decisions, and influence a change. Now, this particular frail and ugly elder had contradicted the master too much that evening, only because he had the power to cross the line that many others could not.
"What have you to say now Jeremiah?" The Master's voice was tired and strained, and all eyes turned to the frail elder who coughed before he spoke. An eruption of painful dryness echoed through the room as he did so.
"I must once again argue against your decision Master. If, I may be so bold, I believe that this 'war' is the key!" Valvador rested his chin on his palm in boredom.
"Oh? Go on."
"If we make allies, then our forces will be much stronger!"
"Hmph!"
All eyes turned to the strongest vampire, who leaned against a stone pillar casually with his muscular arms folded over his broad chest. He'd refused to sit at the table, preferring to observe and listen amongst the shadows, and interrupt the dispute as he saw fit, like now.
"And I suppose you're suggesting that we make more enemies too by doing so? What a pathetic idea!" Several gasps escaped from the wrinkled mouths of the elders, while the other warriors nodded in agreement.
"I say we ignore the fools and continue with our original plans. If they want to play childish war games, then leave them to it! We shall be supreme in the end, mark my word on it. And they shall bow to US!"
His voice was extremely masculine, husky and deep, fitting his stubborn attitude and rebel appearance perfectly. For, this vampire was no ordinary vampire. He was the master's proud grandson and the son of Caine; the very first son of Valvador and Galadria. His mother, Calliope, had been a respectably high-bred vampire of the purest of blood. Therefore, the child of Caine and Calliope was of some of the purest Vampire blood, making him very strong since he had no mortal blood to violate his bloodline.
"Ah, Vegeta, my ever proud grandson, never afraid to voice his strong opinions. I must say that I agree with you, for once." That was an understatement though, for everyone knew Vegeta was favoured highly by his grandfather.
"Well, well, what can I say? I really am a genius. It seems we no longer have use for these so-called 'elders.' Who needs wisdom when we have brute strength? Our Kindred is feared!"
Several astonished gasps echoed across the dimly lit hall as the insulted elders muttered amongst themselves in total disagreement.
"Objection!"
The eldest of the elders stood to his feet and banged his pale fist on the wooden table, shaking it slightly. Vegeta raised an eyebrow at the challenge, and smirked with further mockery.
"I am appalled by such comments! Never in my lifetime has a member of the kindred disrespected an elder! It's blasphemous, treacherous, punishable by DEATH!"
"Calm yourself Aesir, we are all grown and mature vampires here. Let us not let petty words harm us. How does that famous phrase go again? Sticks and stones may break our bones, but names shall never harm us? Indeed, I would've thought you of all people would've abided by that."
The calmness of Valvador's words seemed to somewhat calm everyone down, and put the elders back in their place. Aesir hesitantly returned to his seat, his wrinkled and ugly face slightly softened as he realised that Valvador was and always would be the wisest with words. Vegeta, however, kept his cocky as hell smirk, staring straight at the high elder.
"Your grace. Please, I beg of you." The word 'beg' made Vegeta cringe; how dare the elders stoop so low, it was pathetic. "Think about your decision again! Think about how it will affect the kindred!" Vegeta rolled his eyes and yawned audibly, bored with the persistence of Aesir.
"I have, and my decision remains unchanged." The elders once again mumbled amongst themselves in disapproval at the master's firm words, watched by the many warriors who nodded smugly, clearly approving. The council was evidently split between youth and strength, versus age and brains.
"You are defeated Aesir, just accept it." The high elder snarled at Vegeta, baring his pathetic, blood stained and yellow, decaying fangs. Vegeta chuckled at the challenging gesture, showing the immaculate sharp white tips of his own perfect fangs as he grinned.
"Watch your mouth fledgling! I am generations older than you, and so the decree demands that you show me respect!"
"You're still living in the time of fairies and dragons old fool! Welcome to the future," he gestured the time period by opening out his arms, chuckling slightly in a malevolent manner. "I just know you'll love it!"
Several elites laughed out loud with mockery as the elder reclined from the argument, turning malicious, white-grey eyes on the Master, who had done nothing to stop the argument. Aesir despised sarcasm, and he also despised the arrogant attitudes of the youths.
"I respect that your decision is final Master, and I have argued against it as best I can. The fate of us all lies in your hands, please, make the right decision for all of our sakes. Do not listen to the reckless words of the youth! They are blinded by their own naiveness and desire for power. But, we shall take our leave. Your grace," he bowed his head, a gesture that the other elders did in turn as they left the table and the room. The metal chairs scratched against the stone floor, adding to the awkward silence of the strange atmosphere.
"Good riddance I say." The comment came from Nappa, a blood-craving demon who had formed an allegiance with the Kindred, since he had been a lone demon. Vegeta smirked with a nod of agreement and sat on Aesir's chair, swinging his feet clad in clumpy and heavy, black, leather, combat boots onto the table in one swift yet graceful movement.
"So, am I correct in saying that your decision remains unchanged?"
Valvador raised an eyebrow at his assuming grandson and smirked; he resembled Caine too much sometimes. He shuddered at the thought of his first born, the son that still haunted him. Caine was very different to the other vampires. The memories sickened Valvador, and he turned away from his grandson, who had luckily inherited his father's youthful and ruggedly handsome looks. Valvador and Galadria had been blessed with twins, whom they named Caine and Abel after the Biblical twins, finding it ironic that they were the first vampires born of vampires. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the only thing that was ironic. Whether it was a punishment from God, or simple fate. As the twins grew up, it became apparent that while Abel was good-natured, Caine was pure evil. He was a killer, but he didn't kill out of necessity for food, nor even for sport. Caine killed for pleasure. Jealousy soon developed between the twins, since Abel was clearly favoured over his brother. What Caine did to his brother out of this jealous rage cursed him for the remainder of his life.
"Master, are you alright?"
Valvador blinked several times and returned to reality, the faces of nine worried warriors welcoming him back. He turned to Rhea, the young vampire who had enquired after his health, and nodded.
"I was lost in thought. I want to be alone while I re-think my decision." The elites exchanged glances with each other and eight of them left the room, leaving the son of a particular bad memory behind. A scowl of worry completed his face, and he folded his arms, a gesture often displayed by the strong vampire.
"Don't tell me you're having second thoughts old man?"
"So disrespectful Vegeta, just like your father. Why am I not surprised?" Vegeta cursed at Valvador's words and pounded his fist on the table; a loud bang echoing through the empty hall.
"HOW DARE YOU MENTION MY SO CALLED FATHER!"
"Learn some respect, and maybe I won't." Vegeta snarled, a deep beastial like growl echoing in the pits of his throat while Valvador remained calm and recollected.
"You wouldn't be so 'cool' if I attacked your weakness, master." He turned his back on his grandfather, emphasising his last word. Valvador's eyebrows twitched together and his eyes narrowed slightly from the verbal challenge.
"Watch where you tread Vegeta. You may be part of my blood, but so is every other vampire on this God forsaken Earth! I will not hesitate to disown you from the Kindred."
"The only reason I'll leave, will be of my own accord. You need me here Master, we both know that. Choose wisely now. I may not want to support your final decision afterall." He violently pushed open the large, wooden doors that creaked slightly, and let them slam behind him in his rage. Valvador sunk back onto his throne, resting his head in his hands. Why did life have to be so difficult? He was doing his best to look after his children, but without his mate, he was weak. The Kindred needed a mother and a father, not one or the other. Without both, the rebellious members of the kindred were able to rise above their Master, causing chaos and unruliness amongst the rest of the Kindred. It was only a matter of time until his kindred would be falling under the 20s mark. A pitiful number for an ever-decreasing race of cursed people.
Just as Bulma and Videl stepped down the last steps of the main, grand staircase, the main hall doors swung open, and Vegeta stormed into the entrance hall, littered with stray leaves from the main door.
"Veggie!"
The son of Caine raised an eyebrow as his 'aunt' ran towards him; calling him by the nickname she'd given him against his wishes.
"How many times do I have to tell you not to call me that name brat?" Bulma winced at the tone of his naturally harsh voice, which was much colder that usual today, and very aggravated as he snapped at his aunt. Videl stopped dead in her tracks, and her outstretched arms that were begging for a hug dropped to her sides accompanied with a cute little pout. Bulma's eyebrows twitched together, and she stormed towards the cold-hearted vampire, her sire and her mate.
"Vegeta have a heart dammit! Just because you've had a bad day, that doesn't mean you can take it out on Videl!" He rolled his eyes and watched as the girl, his 'aunt,' stuck her nose in the air and proceeded towards the main hall. Their age difference made him more like her uncle, and she was more like his niece.
"Bah! She'll get over it." Bulma narrowed her eyes and shook her head, flinching as Videl slammed the main doors behind her. "Where the hell have you been anyway?"
He casually walked closer to his mate, a scowl still on his face from the previous argument with the Master.
"Babysitting the 'brat,' as you so nicely put it. I hope you don't talk to our kids like that." His expression changed, and she once again began to regret the mention of children. Raising a child was one of Vegeta's main fears. Why, Bulma didn't quite know. She thought he'd make a wonderful father, if he made an effort.
"Well, as I've said countless times, we won't be having any 'kids' for me to call brat, so you have nothing to worry about woman."
He brushed past her and up the red-carpeted stairs, skipping a step each time to make his journey shorter. Bulma sighed and lowered her eyesight, slightly regretting falling in love with the monster. She'd been a mortal when she'd met him, in a bar where she worked for extra money, to be exact. He'd stolen her heart through his 'bad boy' charm and wit. His impeccably good looks and stunning physique had made him simply irresistible. He'd been perfect, until that fateful day when she gave him her innocence, and in return, he gave her immortal life. Now, she was cursed forever. But lately, she'd been asking herself the same question over and over: Was it all really worth it? Was 'love' worthy of such a sacrifice? Did she truly love him, or had it just been yet another foolish, teenage crush? Did he love her in return? Had he ever loved her, or had it been simply lust for her body and her blood? The thought of such questions simply made her even more depressed with life.
The Master heard the door slam once again, but refused to look up. 'Angel of death, relieve me from this life! Save me. Please. Is that too much to ask?'
"DADDIEEEEE!"
Valvador immediately lifted his head from his palms and chuckled as he saw a young energetic girl running towards him from the door. She was the only reason that he stayed alive, and seeing her smiling face brought a smile to his own face. She was his daughter, the last child of Galadria. To him, she was precious, and if he didn't have her, he truly would've gone crazy by now.
Videl ran until she reached her father, who lifted her onto his lap and embraced her, pressing his cold lips against her forehead as he did so.
"I missed you daddy! Why'd you take so long?" He smiled, glad to hear her angelic voice and hold her in his arms once more. They'd been separated for two days, since Valvador had had matters to take care of in the form of a slayer.
"I'm sorry pumpkin, things were, worse, than they seemed." She tilted her head up to look up at him, searching his cold, black eyes that had a thin line of red around the outside of the iris. He looked mentally drained and physically exhausted, which worried Videl. Another thing that worried her was the fact that she could faintly smell her father's blood. Videl frowned and began to unbutton his long black overcoat with her small yet diligent fingers. His white shirt was soaked in dried blood, his blood, and she frowned as she looked into his eyes, resting a concerned hand above the wound.
"Daddy, they hurt you!"
He smiled and placed his hand over hers, which was extremely close to his heart. Valvador had been careless, and the slayer had missed his aching heart by a few mere inches. He still had the wound as proof of his recklessness and stupidity. Never again would he allow such an amateur mistake to happen. He smiled as he shook his head, trying to reassure her that he was ok, even though the wound still burnt and stung thanks to a stake drenched in the holiest of water.
"It's nothing pumpkin, daddy's fine." She pouted and frowned, obviously not believing him, but he quickly changed the subject to something lighter. " Now, what have you been up to? I hope you weren't causing trouble like last time."
"Me? Cause twouble?" They both chuckled and she began to fiddle with a button that was coming loose on his shirt; hanging from a thin piece of black thread. Giving in to temptation, she suddenly yanked it off mischievously and placed it in the pocket of her white old-fashioned dress, complete with petticoats and pink ribbons. "Tee hee, you're missing a button!"
Valvador raised a single eyebrow. He'd seen her take the button, but he still played along with the game, and gasped in fake shock as he looked at his shirt.
"So I am. I wonder where that went?"
"I wonder…." She trailed off, grinning cheekily.
"Well, maybe I'll give a reward to whoever finds it." Her eyes lit up, and she immediately took the button out of her pocket, holding it up infront of him.
"Found it!" He chuckled and closed her hands over hers, placing his own on top.
"And so, you can keep it." He removed his hands, and she frowned as she opened her hand to look at the plain, black button.
"But it's just a button daddy, where's my real reward?" He smiled at her, memories starting to be recalled of his happier, youthful days. She was so naïve, and had much to learn, so much for him to teach her. Her life had still only just begun.
"But simple can lead to something more. You see, your mother used to collect rare things, even buttons. That button, is one of the millions which she collected and sewed onto various items of clothing." Videl gazed at the button with a newly found fascination, and placed it into her pocket once again, a saddened expression on her face as she lifted her head.
"Tell me about my mommy. Was she pretty?" Valvador sighed, but smiled to hide his sadness at the mention of Galadria for the umpteenth time. Videl was always asking the same questions, since she was so curious about her mother.
"She was the most beautiful woman to grace the Earth."
"Do I look like her?"
"Of course you do. I'm certain you'll grow up to be just like her."
"I hope so." Videl sighed and rested her head on her father's chest, missing the mother she'd only known for a few seconds as a baby. A silence fell upon them as they both became lost within their own thoughts. Videl rested her head on her father's chest as she desperately tried to remember her mother. However the only image left was the painting in the old, cobwebbed room. As she fell into a peaceful slumber, Valvador pondered over his discussion from earlier. The question was; should he trust the elders, whom he'd trusted all his life. Or, should he trust Vegeta, the first son of Caine. He closed his eyes and sighed, resting his back against his cushioned throne. His heart told his to give his grandson a chance, but if he was wrong, the consequences could be severe. However, Galadria had told him to always follow his heart, and so, that was what he was prepared to do.