The Moon That Embraces The Sun

by S.O. VERBIA

When there is no Sun, Darkness prevails. Believed to have escaped on the night prior to the New Moon, the Vampire Princes regard Yui as a traitor. One day, 6 children arrive at the manor, each claiming to be a child born of their union with the Sacrificial Bride. Yet, not all is what it seems. Especially the truth behind their bride's abrupt disappearance, and the children's birth

15. Teddy's Acrimony: Part V

Thank you all for believing in me and my return. Honestly, with all that's been happening around our world, its not surprising to discover that most of us have been in need of a much deserved break. Pamper yourselves, my readers.

The world has become so uncertain in its course, that writing is becoming my go-to for relaxation. Needless to say, it's been an exhausting couple of months trying to push forward from my writer's block, but - in the end - I succeeded.

I will continue to press on. For you, my dearest readers.

P.S. It's been brought to my attention that it seems like Regina is appearing to be too much of a 'Mary Sue'. I've come to lay those doubts to rest. It is completely and absolutely true. I commend those who've taken notice of it because its important to note for the development of the story.

Without further ado, please Read and Review.

Enjoy.

THE MOON THAT EMBRACES THE SUN

Chapter XIII

Teddy's Acrimony: Part V

Dispersed over the flattened terrain of an expensively crafted rug, straggled glass - like Persian Jade glittered over a flowered vale - showered the study room floor with a morbid gleam.

Polished glasswork, once used to showcase a wide variety of collected plants and animals - no longer effectuated an imprint of what their 'once glorified purpose' was - now that it all lay strewn about the ample Norman* study. Broken and shivered beyond visible repair.

Pages - paragraphs - scribbled arduously over fragrant parchment, in text as chaotic as the language of the Ancients*, were laid to waste upon the desolate ground; collectively gathered, and torn clean off their leathered spines, in a rather grisly resemblance to the Blood Eagle* of primeval Skaldic Poetry. Joining, in solemn silence, the brethren of collected knowledge that the second-eldest Prince had callously mutilated in a fit of rage.

Incapable of being reprieved - by he who had so ardently retrieved its valued information - throughout the expanse of an immortal's lifespan.

'A lifespan...ha!'

Standing at the epicenter of the defaced room, the raven-haired Prince scoffed at his own delusions. Mocking, with extreme severity, the idiocy that such hopes wrought within, as though he were judging them from someone else's point of view.

'Don't make me laugh.'

Raising a ruinous fist high into the air, Reiji brought it back down with a force greater than the wrath he nurtured, and slammed it straight onto the desk beside him. Insouciant of the vials - which had been previously salvaged from his destructive rage - decimating on the spot from the acute impact.

With a cynical smirk plastered against his hardened features, the second-born Prince approached the toppled bookshelf and lay his head against it. Conscious of the weight his anger, slowly - but surely - held crumbling apart from within.

'...How asinine.'

Usually calm and collected, even under the pressure that his own perfection demanded of him, Reiji knew well the art of maintaining composure. Even if that meant traversing through unfavorable means and circumstances.

It was a talent that practically coursed through his veins; should one consider Beatrix's 'hard-bitten character' an inheritable trait.

However, in spite of this, Reiji could not find it in himself the want to indulge others with his usual bouts of 'propriety'. Not this time. Certainly not after discovering that logic - his closest confidant - had failed him, where his emotions lay bare and unarmed.

And, though evidently disconcerted by this phenomenon, there wasn't much he could do to salvage the situation, except hold his breath and grit his teeth. Deafening the silence that the room callously inhibited.

With an uneasy crescendo leading into its act, the rampage that had destroyed most of the room, began to readily reveal the crumbling base in which his emotions hesitantly stood; hidden beneath the Cimmerian depths of his wine-tinged eyes.

Just as the rapacious want of Tantalus* had him salivating for a meal he could never possess, so too did the resentment he carry, seek out all those things gone from his control; and, like a weed consumed the rose-cheeked flesh of a flower mid-bloom, so too did this weed devour what little was left of his being. Coiling its withered, thorny vines - tightening its flesh-piercing grasp - over his most vulnerable spots, until it left him bare and raw to a world that only knew cruelty, as it knew chaos.

A world that branded him with a rancor that held nothing but contempt for life.

Contempt for love.

Constantly reminding him of memories he had belligerently locked away.

Of a Mother who favored an otiose brother.

Of a Woman who failed to gratify a trust rarely granted, yet so willingly given.

He could feel his resentment grow like a tumor.

Now that those memories had resurfaced, the emotions he had tightly secured in a vault no other could procure, spilt like an overflooded grave. Thoughts ran vagrant through this logical muddle. Sinking him deeper into an abyss that stared back at him with nothing but the sharpened gleam of pure enmity.

Hadn't he already realized he had been nothing more than a pawn in their gambit? Useless in the beginning, but a worthy sacrifice to ensure a final win.

'No!' He shook his head forcefully. He knew his worth. That was all that mattered. That was all that needed to matter!

So, why was it that it still felt like it didn't?!

Crumpling in place, his normally rigid stance slackened, as the weight of his thoughts fell forward; and, exhausted by the choler that consumed him within, his tired gaze fell onto the broken shards that decorated the ground.

Conflicted, he gazed at his mirrored image through the shattered slivers.

A disheveled, rugged, man glared back at him.

Why?

He clenched his fists.

Why was it that...

If all he knew inside him was anger...

If all he knew in life was disappointment...

Why, then was it that...when he looked down at his reflection...

What he found wasn't anger...

But sadness, instead?

~S.O.V~

Stationed outside the decrepit room - like monolithic gargoyles perched over a ledge - two summoned familiars, sporting as equally an impenetrable facade as that of their expressionless master, stood. Enwreathed by a silence so guarded, it put hellhounds'* territorial instincts to shame.

After having been spontaneously summoned to the Prince's study, the two [men]* - awaiting further instructions from the silent royal - stilled themselves at the door frame; bearing a stony glare at the damaged scenery before them.

Wrath, unraveled like fire and brimstone, had spread quickly across the room like wildfire. Oppressing all air, in a heated veil, that smothered their lungs until it strangled their breath. Subduing whatever will was left in them to serve under this man and his crotchety orders.

But bound by contract they were, and because of this, and their pact of Teneat Aeterni*, they had no other alternative but to follow his silent command to stay put. At the very least, until all hell subsided.

"..."

"..."

"..."

Yet, as the silence extended, so too did their distress that - room service - was the last thing he had in mind, before summoning them. Especially after witnessing what he had done to the place, just seconds before arriving.

By Charon's robes and his soul-varnished punt*, even Subaru-sama's concurrent destruction was but a 'drop in still waters', when compared to their Master's more irascible conduct.

They should've seriously reconsidered the offer of serving him this afternoon; and opted in allowing one of the other - newly contracted - familiars to do it, instead! In fact, they should've reconsidered serving this Prince the moment their King inquired a change in contract!

But, alas, here they were. Ready to meet their maker in the eternal limbo*.

Thankfully, their nature accustomed them to portray as little emotion as possible...but the fear for this Prince, was evidently stronger than their mask, for nothing could relieve the quiver of their legs, than being dismissed from his sight. Especially after avoiding, by just a hair's width of distance, the reflexive flinch of the paroxysm that had ravaged the room earlier. All while taking every necessary precaution that would give them the head start to avoid the countenance his anger was sure to provide.

And though they were momentarily assured the beast in him had quelled its catastrophic rage, they were - unfortunately - reminded of the cruel fate potentially awaiting them, while standing so near his riled state.

By the blood he carried, he was an enigma to be revered, but it was through that iron-forged character of his that he was capable of instilling fear with silence. Such was his caliber, as well as his prestige; exuding in every corner of his high-born features - from the chiseled outline of his fine jaw, to the merciless glower of his patrician-inherited eyes - more potent, more deadly, than any savage beast known to roam the pits of hell. Revealing to them, without uttering a single word, what would surely happen if they so much as breathed in his general direction.

After all...

Three seconds, was all it had taken him to ravage the immaculate room until it resembled the aftermath of a heated war zone.

Just - and only - three seconds.

So how many would it take him to leave them in a similar state?

Swallowing a deep breath, one of them wondered if death would hurt a second time through.

Gulping inaudibly, the other regretted ever opting to rise through the ranks of hell, just to become a familiar for the Second-born Prince of the Vampiric Race.

Hearing the loud 'crunch' of broken glass echoing through the walls, both familiars visibly shuddered. Paling further from their natural skin tones, they closed their eyes and prayed to the God of the Underworld* that their deaths may be swift - if at all possible. After all...

Though they may be nothing more than contractual familiars - at the end of the day - even they understood what mortal pain felt like (summoned tenfold) for their kind.

~S.O.V~

A strong gale blew just outside the faux balcony, piercing through the loosened glass of the casement windows beside him. Echoing within the parameters of the hall, like the shrill shriek of a witch burning on a pyre. Jolting him out his thoughts, and hovering around him like a foreboding shroud of dread.

Ever since the outcries of the passing storm had abandoned the manor's ample property, the silence - which once encased it - began to manifest itself more markedly than before. Except, this time, that hollowed stillness in the air was accompanied by a fear, that - though Kaname never once held toward the dark - greatly unnerved him, the further he ventured onto the labyrinthine passages of the dimly-lit wing.

Feeling his hand quivering beside him, he grasped at his wrist, forcing the tremors to subside.

'C'mon! Keep it together, man! It's too late to back down now. You've already stuck your nose into something you shouldn't have. The least you can do now is see this the whole way through!'

He couldn't quite make out why he felt there was something odd about this thing's existence, but it made him inexplicably restless.

Trudging down the corridor, the young boy's mind began to muddle with all the thoughts that ran rampantly through his head. By the time he came to, he was inadvertently faced with the dead end of the Western Wing.

'What the hell?'

He might've jumped the gun a bit early, or maybe even took a wrong turn somewhere down the line by accident. But...the trail did lead him this way. Of that, he was sure. So, why did he reach a dead end so soon?

Placing his palm against the leaden wall, Kaname glanced back at the windowless hall he tread down this path.

'I'm sure I didn't make a mistake. This was where it was coming from.' He mulled it over.

Supposing that most of the trail he followed this way had a source strong enough to lure him aimlessly, it wasn't that unrealistic to believe he had mistaken one route for another. Unless the source was in constant motion. But then, why was it so difficult for him to shake off that uncanny feeling that this - feint trail - hadn't been accidental at all?

"Damn this!"

Vehemently, he turned away.

'For God's sake! Just because I memorized most of the layout on my way to the living room, does NOT mean I'm any better familiarized with the damned manor!'

Ruffling his hair, he heaved a low groan and made his way back.

"It's never gonna be easy for me, is it?" He sighed, but be that as it may, pressed on forward; rounding the nearest corner to retrace his steps back from square one.

Just as he was about to trek down the passage from whence he travelled, he was struck with an overwhelming force that rooted him on the spot.

'What-?!'

Without warning, the halls began to extend farther than what the exterior architecture permitted. As if the design, itself, were stretching past the property's owned acreage.

Transiently, he stole a glance outside the nearest window.

There wasn't a single tree that rustled from the seismic movement that sent him reeling within; and, in a desperate attempt to elude that prickly sensation coursing through his body, forcefully shook his head. Soon discovering that, in doing so, had consequently made the symptoms worse.

He couldn't handle the situation on his own, anymore. That's all there was to it.

Dejectedly, he clenched his fists, withholding his outburst as he deeply regretted not turning his back to this quandary before it became a problem way out of reach. Neither his talents, nor his capabilities, meant anything when - in the end - all he was, was just a kid.

A kid trying to tackle on a situation he was too inept to handle. Alone.

For the first time, since the death of his beloved Mother, he felt the impotence his age alluded resonate within him; and, much to his increasing chagrin, that unnerving sensation was still throbbing at his temples. Giving him no respite from all that he had to deal with in the span of a few minutes.

He didn't want to continue. He could just put an end to this right here, right now. But he feared that, if he did, he'd come to regret making that decision too. That's why, determined to find the source of this mare's nest, he continued. Albeit, rather wobbly-footed.

Unfortunately, before the opportunity presented itself for him to proceed further, the circumstances of these tremors shockingly revealed themselves before him.

The halls weren't the ones in sporadic movement.

It was him.

Winded by a motion that knocked all sense out of him, Kaname reeled toward the nearest wall for support. Stilling his body's erratic sway, before decisively taking control of his excessive breathing pattern; escaping faster than what his lungs could intake.

"Why...is th-Aaaghnnnghhh!" A sharp pain abruptly struck the base of his stomach. Doubling over from shock, he toppled forward, pressing his forehead against the smooth rug. Wrapping his arms tightly across his belly as his insides smoldered violently, as though he'd swallowed molten lava.

Abstaining from the irrational need to scratch as his insides, Kaname tightened his grasp on his stomach and bit back the distress so eager to escape his lips.

The last thing he needed was to have an audience find him in such a state of disarray. Even if said audience was his own family.

When the pangs of this untenable pain passed, and he could finally get back up on his feet, a deeply rooted hollowness followed; but the emptiness it held, was all too familiar for him to discard as baseless concern.

Meditating on the recognizant trail, he soon took notice that there was something in the air he had been too acclimated to recognize earlier. A certain sourness that lingered inconspicuously about. One with the power to drive him insane.

'So that's how its gonna be...'

With a bite to his griping smirk, Kaname idly wiped the sweat that trickled down his forehead, and mentally quipped about what was going on around him.

The quavering that had ransacked his body, was - by no means - out of fear. That, he now knew. Rather, it was his own body warning him how dangerous this escapade would be, the further he wished to pursue after it.

But that only incited a question to ignite.

Even after all he just experienced, why was he still willing to chase after it?

'...Ah, right.'

Brushing the back of his hand over the corners of his mouth, Kaname's actinolite gaze readily blazed.

'...Its because of that God awful stench.'

Pungent, caustic, and vile - that unwonted scent of spilt blood - lingered in the air like thin strands off a spider's broken web. Luring him deep into the bowels of an insatiable depravity that knew no right from wrong. Clouding sane judgment, and subjugating coherent reason, until there was nothing but unrestrained instinct left. One that attracted action without thought. Violence without consequence. Triggering him into an appetence so pervasive, it clung to his throat like a thick and heavy smog. Threatening to burn his insides until they burst - red and raw.

Instinctively, his hand flew straight to his mouth. Clamping it shut, so as to choke back the disgusting bile that suddenly rose in his throat.

'Come on, damn it!' He could feel the withheld acid burn his esophagus, 'Snap out of it already!'

But it wasn't going to be that simple.

Rising from the base of his spine, all the way to the back of his eye sockets, the unabating throb stabbed at his retina. Pervasively drilling its cruel affliction against his optical nerves. Neutralizing - by sporadically stressful shocks - the rampant green of his effulgent actinolite. Effectively dulling his sight, until it allowed him to see no more than a blurred mesh around him.

Fortunately, however, despite its impressive control over his senses, this - scent- had yet the power to null his rationality; and, with that still in play, he was well conscious enough to fight against it, before it could take the chance to subdue him into the craze - that this bestial haze - connoted.

And, all things considered, there was no telling how dangerous a half-breed (and one in the midst of a feeding frenzy!) could be. Especially when, such a creature - by definition of its own existence - held no proper control over the gut-wrenching cravings that struck him.

The soft 'crrrschh' of nails ripping wallpaper apart glazed over the faintest pants that escaped his paled lips; and, evidently frustrated by the thin line of oxygen that seemed to parade in the air around him, Kaname cursed as he wheezed.

'Damn it! Damn it all!'

None of this would've happened had he bothered to take his suppressants* before making this big move! Needless to say, back then, the need to train and temper this infernal craving far exceeded any concern for future antagonisms.

He should've seen this coming the moment Father Komori sent them here!

'Too late to cry over spilt milk, now,' He laughed dryly, heaving in the process, but continued to glare at the blurred world surrounding him. 'I need to find a way to stop this before it gets even worse!'

Taking notice that his panting breath was beginning to fog before him in clouds of wispy smoke, Kaname was suddenly hit with a not-so-distant memory. A memory that involved a time when, while under Father Sato's tutelage (a man reputed to be Komori's resilient right-hand man), he happened to get locked in the Monastery's notorious ice cellar, for hours on end.

And, an idea struck him through the bedimmed glare.

Sliding a tremulous finger into his mouth, the young boy clenched his teeth over the taut skin until he could feel the bone pinch the flesh within. Over and over he kept at it, instilling more force than necessary, until the sting was perceivable enough to disperse the logical muddle; effectively pulling his attention back onto his surroundings and away from this ravenous instinct.

When the shackles that invisibly bound him were shed, the cool night air rushed back into his lungs with a burning speed.

'I guess it worked.' Despite the abdominal discomfort, he broke a smile. 'Father Sato, your spartan training really did pay off!'

But, once he recovered his wits about him, he soon realized the scent's remnant traces had become near imperceptible from where he stood.

'Ugh! What now?'

Slamming the back of his head against the wall, Kaname heaved a muffled groan and idly glanced up at the wall clock.

He'd definitely gotten better at subduing the cravings without running rampant. That much he was able to tell by the reaction time. So, it could be seen as a considerable plus. However, there was still a lot he had yet to do before he ever reached the 'safe zone'.

Studiously, he looked down at his hand.

'This makes no sense!' He scrunched his fingers close, nails digging deep into his palm. 'How could the trail just disappear like that?'

The smarting pain on his finger was proof enough that he was nowhere near delirious from the cursed scent. So, how come it suddenly vanished from right under his nose?

Drawing in a sharp breath, goosebumps soon covered the back of his arms when he realized there was still a faint trail lingering in the air.

'It didn't disappear.'

He sniffed.

The scent was still there. Great! But it lacked the fervor with which it seduced him moments prior. Which could only mean...

"It's been contained."

With his muscles stiffening from the sudden interruption of a bellicose thirst, Kaname - rushed to get this fiasco over with, pronto - headed down the corridor, while strategizing his next course of action.

To begin with, the situation wasn't even in his favor, no matter where he stood his ground; and, judging by how dangerously human the trail was - not to mention, how adversely he had reacted to it - he'd surely be cannibalized in an instant if he so much as confronted it head on.

Wafting the damn thing had already carried enough a consequence on its own.

He didn't want to know what would happen if he was outright slapped with it.

Admittedly, he had no one to blame but himself. Nevertheless...honestly who could've known he'd be exposed to human blood - in a single night - inside a manor that was infested with vamp-!

He froze.

'It can't be...!?'

His mind swirled.

How could he forget about the one person in this godforsaken house that was neither half nor pure!

"Nee-san!"

Bolting straight onto the passageway that led him toward the living room, Kaname felt his heart race.

The living room was the last place he had seen Regina, Luna, and Luka in - together - before he stormed off with the other two. If he was lucky, they'd still be there. Waiting for, at least one of them, to return to pick them up. But...

They weren't there.

The living room was empty.

Devoid of any life, except for the crackling fireplace at the far end of the room.

Where could they have gone to?!

Did his Nee-san take them back to her room? What if they stopped by the kitchen? Would the children be hungry this late into the night? Enough so to warrant a quick trip to the fridge on their way to bed?

He hesitated.

There were too many options!

Too many variables!

Not enough time!

'They have to be somewhere! Anywhere! Think, Kaname, think! This scent can't be connected to them. It can't! Come on! You've read every book in the Monastery, there's gotta be something there that can help me find them!' He inwardly pled as he made his way back to the hallway.

In vain, he struggled to recall every book - every passage - he'd taken from the Monastery's library.

All he needed was one teensy tiny smidge of information that would lead him to what he so desperately searched for. Hell, he even considered the books his sisters secretly smuggled from the Convent for him. To no avail.

None of those books carried even an inkling of what he needed.

Except...

'Wasn't there that one book?'

If it was through sheer luck that a man could encounter an oasis in a desert, then so too it was by that very same luck, that he had happened upon that exception in the past.

Black leather - smoked in fragrant apple wood - engraved with the imprint of four daggers, pointing inward like a makeshift cross toward a bejeweled rose, encrusted at its cover; was the least of his reasons as to why his attention was bound to the book upon plain sight. Rather, it had been the strange sense of affinity he held toward the sigils that accompanied the inside of the book.

He was sure he had never read this type of heiroglyphisied language before, and yet - it didn't feel like it was his first time seeing it either. What astounded him most, by far, was his innate ability to decipher said language as though it were a simple equation.

And that's exactly what he did.

Of course, before the opportunity came about for him to delve deeper into its information, Father Komori caught him and extensively banned the book - and him - from his private collection, without even a word as to 'why'.

And that was the last he ever heard of it.

But, thinking back on it, hadn't there been something mentioned within the first chapter? Something about blood fragrances*?

He paused. Mid-stride.

"Every person is born with an aroma uniquely tethered to their being."

'Something that serves as an ingrained I.D., huh?'

He let that thought settle in before mulling it over.

Whether the inherent meaning was meant to be taken at face value, or read between the lines to be deemed 'decipherable'; a problem still remained.

He had never smelled Regina's blood before.

Let alone tasted it.

And it wasn't like he had any intention to.

He, just like his siblings, tended to be cautious around Regina (with the exception of the two youngest, who had yet to know the truth of their sister's 'condition'), that any intent - minimal though it was - to make a repeat of Akumu's Awakening, was immediately subdued.

Still, wouldn't that mean that the whole point was moot, if he blindly pursued after a scent that may involve the one blood he consciously tried to avoid?

'There's that to consider, but also...'

Luna and Luka.

Even though there weren't any vampiric traces detected within the trail, he still couldn't shake off that unnerving sensation - crawling up the back of his head - that his kid siblings weren't quite high out of hell waters either.

By God, if anything happened to them - any single one of them - there'd be hell to p-wait a second!

He deliberated in place.

He may have no idea what Regina's blood was like.

But, Akumu...

Akumu sure as hell, did!

"What did he say it was like, again?"

He thought back on the exact words the redhead had used.

"Tasted sweet, almost like honey, but it was also kinda...argh! I don't know - Lavender-ish?"

He shook his head.

Okay, so maybe that wasn't much of a description to go by - he considered - but it was close enough to get him where he needed to be, right now!

Cautiously, he wafted the air. Careful enough not to incite the hunger he felt receding in the pit of his stomach.

Nothing.

There was nothing in the air that resembled honey or lavender, in the slightest.

He sighed, but was far from relieved of this given insight.

"I should still go and check up on them. Just to be s-!" The intention abruptly stopped where it stood, when he felt that repulsive odor drift by him, once more; and, though - in his mind - it no longer held any ties to his human sister, or was even relevant to the safety of his youngest siblings, it carried something wickedly inhumane about it that daunted him further from what his initial pursuit of it, offered.

It was as if he'd walked into a medieval butchery; and, disgusted by the images this fetor concocted, he pinched his nose shut.

Animal blood - real animal blood - was nowhere near this disgusting. It had a sloppy texture that would viscously run down his throat like some sort of gooey bacon chowder. But neither its aftertaste, nor its scent, ever made him feel this revolted...and famished. At least, not in such a subsequent manner.

Yet, here he was.

Panting from the savor like some starved beast.

'Where the hell is it coming from?!'

He looked all around him; desperation crawling up his spine with the danger this situation connoted. Making him minutely forget the concern he had over his siblings' well-being, in favor of uncovering the truth behind this ordeal before it - too - became a problem.

Waiting it out 'til morning was no longer a valid option. Not when, whatever this scent originated from, had yet to be found.

But it wasn't as though he had much of an incentive to go by.

For all he knew, the 'core' could've been long gone before he was made aware of it, and if it wasn't - and he hoped this wasn't the case - it'd have been disposed of much, much earlier.

'If its been disposed of, there's not much I can do at this point. But why do I feel this...anxious?'

Unconsciously, his gaze fell onto the window at the far end of the split corridor. A window that granted him a clear view of the manor's parallel wing. A wing he hadn't paid close attention to since the first run-through of the house.

Suddenly, he recognized where his train-of-thought was leading him to.

And an idea struck him out of the blue.

'The Eastern Wing?'

His Father and Uncles' rooms were located in that direction, but he hadn't really considered approaching it again after the first time. So, why would...?

A door suddenly creaked open beside him, jolting him away from his thoughts; and, visibly startled by the sound, Kaname turned around in a whiplash, stumbling over his own body, until he tumbled forward. Stunned.

"Um...?"

Lifting himself off the ground, surprised actinolite glanced up to find confused emerald, with as equally a stupefied face as he.

~S.O.V~

Heaving a disgruntled, albeit - muted - sigh, Luka sat against the ground and raised his sight in the direction of his metaphorical Holy Grail*. Pondering on where to go next.

No matter where he glanced, that mischievous bear always managed to escape his line of sight; and, although this had occurred on more than one occasion tonight, he hadn't lost hope that they'd come to encounter one another soon. Still, he couldn't hide the fact that he was the tiniest bit vexed at the bear's incessant hiding. At least, where it concerned his endless attempts at seeking him out. But...did it really have to be so difficult to locate him?

Grumbling, he glared up at the ceiling.

A while back, he noticed a small orb of light scuttling across the top floor, and knew - right off the bat - it belonged to Teddy. But following after that lead - blind as it was - proved to be a wild goose chase, as it only seemed to lead both him, and Luna, back to the main entrance of the manor.

And though the trip hadn't been a problem, in and of itself, what followed after was.

He didn't quite understand why, but - for some strange reason - the konpeito*-like orb he'd been following, was starting to distort. It looked spikier - like dried burrs*; and, the wispy light that emanated from the orb, seemingly appeared and disappeared in flashes. Making him all the more confused as to where the bear actually stood.

Was it on the roof, now?

No.

Teddy couldn't have reached that far, that quick.

An attic, maybe?

Again, he shook his head. Kneading his brows into a furrowed glare.

He shouldn't be wasting valuable time here, trying to solve the unsolvable! He needed to find Teddy!

But, first thing's first.

Eyes forward, he frowned at the majestic incline laid up ahead.

The Grand Staircase.

Polished with the gleam of an impossible climb.

Digging his small fingers into the dusty carpet beneath, Luka lifted his baby-bottomed butt, and stood his ground; steadfast with his resolve to continue this voyage until he reached his end goal: Teddy.

Thrusting his momentum forward, the toddler reached out for the curved posts of the iron rails, and grasped one in which two scary-looking gargoyles stood watch. Each with a half-lit candle of melted wax situated atop their horned heads. Glaring down at him from high above their perched posts.

But he wasn't afraid.

In fact, quite the opposite.

And it shone through the gleam of his cabochon eyes.

With a marbled acclivity that resembled the gradient of a Mesoamerican Pyramid, Luka could sense the colossal height of Victorian-styled steps continuously taunt him with his heart's desire. Like a silvered bell dangling over a raven's greedy gaze, so too did this obstacle demonstrate Teddy overhead. Ridiculing his inherent attempt at capturing said bear through his own means and methods.

But Luka would not throw the towel in easily. Not when Teddy was so close within reach!

Treading up the ramp, with an unfaltering confidence in every taken step, the alexandrite-eyed toddler remained unnerved by the challenge so readily presented before him. Securing each movement - with an added other - for support. All while struggling to keep himself from tumbling back down the steps, and onto the floor below.

Unfortunately, before he had the chance to make it far enough from where he started, Luna's quiet sobs reached his ears.

Hesitant, he turned around.

It wasn't surprising to find his sister (whom, he could've sworn had been behind him just moments prior), now huddling near a corner at the other end of the hall. Covering her ears, and cowering away, as tears poured rampantly down her rosy cheeks. But, that didn't mean he wasn't feeling guilty about it, either.

Brooding, Luka rested his elbows against the sixth step, as the rest of his body dangled off the fifth.

Putting a stop to this wasn't an option he wanted to consider, but neither was leaving her behind; and it wasn't particularly out of fear for what he may encounter, but - rather - out of concern for what could happen to her if she were left alone. Especially when she was this terrified!

Pursing his lip into a visible scowl, the youngest child could feel disappointment etch itself into his heart at abandoning his own desires, in favor of prioritizing another's well-being.

Yet, it was the right thing to do.

Luna had stepped out of her own comfort zone to accommodate his needs, before her own; and, though the act was highly unnecessary, he had been grateful for her company.

It was only fair he returned the favor.

There'd be plenty of other times to chase after Teddy, right?

...He could wait.

Right now, Luna needed him more.

With one last, forlorn glance, toward the top of the stairway, Luka - dejected by the choice he made, even if made for the right reason - set himself apart from his path, and tread back down the steps in a sort of 'belly slide' motion; until the rough padding of the carpet grazed the tender skin of his knees.

Dispirited, he turned in place, and headed back to Luna's side once more.

~S.O.V~

Amid a tear-streaked haze, Luna noted her brother's forthcoming descent; and, although mildly unaware of the change in his newfound resolve, was very much relieved to find him so close within reach. Unabashedly toddling her way.

The succor, however, didn't last long - as there was something in his demeanor that quashed his previously adventurous mood.

If this were before, his presence - alone - would've been enough to assuage her fright, but right now it was by no means consoling.

Luka looked upset.

Very upset.

"Luka-kun..." Lost in deep thought over this evident change in stance, Luna watched her brother toddle on toward her without so much as even sparing her a glance.

Distressed by the thought that those same shades lurking around her, were now chasing after him - rather than considering she to be at fault for his apparent dispiritedness - Luna valiantly rushed to his side. Urged to provide him some semblance of encouragement, while still enervated by her own malaise.

Rubbing her tear-stained cheeks against his own, Luna unconsciously ensnared his little body in a tight hug that left him looking like a puffer fish about to burst.

"I-It's gonna be okay, now!" she promised. "Luna-Nee-chan is h-here for you! D-Don't be sc-scared! I-I'll protect you!"

Luka quizzically lifted a brow in response.

Despite being at a loss over her obvious trepidation, he made no attempt to minutely understand what it was she bumbled about. So, tapping her arms - coiled constrictively around his neck - he motioned her to release him. Which she, mindfully, did.

Swayed by the onslaught of emotions that washed over her like a tidal wave, Luna - though vaguely aware of her power's intermittent activation - realized something serious was happening, when the color* in his heart - dulled; and, anxious by this revelation, reached out to him.

Tugging his hand back, Luka had no choice but to turn around and stare up at his sister.

"Luka-kun, please tell me...What's wrong?"

Refulgent Ruby stared down at darkened Alexandrite, it's purplish hue denoting an almost indigo-green by the reddened light that her own bejeweled orbs refracted. Seemingly increasing their iridescent fulgor the longer their stare-down proceeded. Only paling in lucidity, once the silence of the night reached its peak. Retrieving their lackluster tinge, once more, from their crystallized irradiance - by aid of the artificial sconces alighting the grand hall.

The question posed, however, remained unanswered; and Luka refused to leave, even an inkling of his emotions, out in the open.

Shrugging his little shoulders in turn, he faced the other way and walked on ahead of her, somewhat expecting her to follow soon after, but Luna stayed rooted to her spot. Watching him set a marked distance between them, that only grew wider the longer she remained.

Whatever had occurred, in the time she spent pottering about, must've been worse than what she originally thought. Enough so to warrant this seemingly withdrawn attitude from him. Fretting over it, however, wasn't going to help her resolve the issue at hand. Not when Luka had made it a point to stop his whole endeavor, so as to head back from where they came from.

And Luna couldn't find it in her heart to question - or rather, force - him to reveal anything.

Not his troubles.

Certainly not his worries.

Least of all, to her.

And she didn't want to use her powers on him to figure that out!

But...

'What should I do?'

Luka was never fussy, and rarely - if ever - did he throw tantrums when things didn't go his way. He was just a quiet little boy, with quiet little thoughts. Because of this, the adults at the Monastery would call him 'mute', but Luna knew better. After all, she'd often caught glimpses of his heart's color*, and - to her surprise - his inner self would always prove to be far from muted.

Gleaming ruby revealed to her what true natures belied: repressed emotions, powerful enough to break through impassive masks, if given the opportunity; and, much like the day she first awakened to them, that color* of his remained - as everchanging, and undecipherable - as a chameleon that hid in plain sight.

But, though her brother was such an exception, that wasn't usually the case with other people. At least, none that she could ever remember.

Then again, she hadn't had many chances to willingly use it on other people that weren't her siblings. After all, her first experience with someone not related to her, had come in the form of a kind-hearted onii-chan*, who'd secretly deliver flowers to Hime Nee-chama; and, curious as to why - Luna would take the tiniest peek at his heart - to find a lovely shade of pink wrapped around it. A pink that was almost as pink as his face - which Hime Nee-chama would always poke fun of - when she'd thank him for the small, hand-picked bouquets.

One day, however, Luna had noticed his heart no longer glittered pink - but rather a greyish sort of red - and, innocently naïve to the world around her, approached him to inquire about it.

To this day, she still wondered what that strange look he gave her - meant - and, if that had been the reason as to why she never saw him again.

Thereafter, her brothers and sisters had told her that using her powers on other people was a big no-no. But, sometimes, Luna couldn't help it and accidentally would; and when she'd see them, she'd find the most extraordinary hues.

Some would be a smoky white.

Some a greyish black.

But, by far, it was her siblings that carried the most beautiful spectrum she'd ever seen; and, though they shared the same blood, it was interesting to note how greatly their contrasts differentiated from one another. Especially where the weight of their hearts were concerned.

Regina Nee-chama, with a mixture of white* and a tinge of purple*, had a heart color that often reminded Luna of the old wisteria tree - in the middle of a lake - near the dilapidated ruins of an ancient Cathedral. It was one of her most favorite places, but it was always a long walk to get there from the Monastery. So Regina would only take them after Church, every Sunday morning. There they'd have their breakfast and lunch, dipping their feet into the lake, watching as the little fishies swam by and tickled their toes, enthralled with the sight of the drooping flowers cascading onto the water's surface. All while the wind speckled its petals around them, filling the air with a sweetened aroma that would always linger on their noses every step back to the dorms by sundown.

But, much unlike the humble hue that her eldest sister denoted, her blonde sister's was nowhere near as discreet.

Hime Nee-chama's heart, was as bright and vibrant as an orchard in the Summer. In fact, it's gleaming orange* easily outshone even the orchard Sister Sabina lovingly tended to back at the Convent. Like a treasure chest glittering with untouched gold, her beautiful sister gleamed inside and out. But, if anyone were to ever get the chance to see her in the same light that she did, they'd no doubt be dazzled on the spot by how fascinating the color in her heart was.

On the other hand, Kaname Nii-chama's heart was nothing close to their sisters' bewitching counterparts, but it was no less captivating than theirs. His dark and mysterious blue*, was as magnanimous as an open sea. One that'd mesmerize all with its unreachable depths. It was a mystifying color that'd steal her breath away, whenever she'd catch the slightest glimpse of it; and yet, it fit the image of her handsome and cool brother - so well - that she couldn't think of any other color as good as that one.

But there was.

A strong, and attractive color befitting someone with as equally a vigorous and dynamic ego.

Akumu Nii-chan's heart color denoted such qualities. Swirling and dancing around his chest in multiple shades of red*, it never mixed, but always entwined its hues within his heart; and just like a tender flame over a candle wick, the tones emerged. But there were often times when those colors appeared so dangerously close to one another that - at the slightest touch - they'd burst like a dynamite ready to ignite.

And, though Luna didn't possess the ability to visualize her own, she could've sworn she once caught sight of the tiniest bit of green* emitting from her palms before.

But - by far - it was Luka-kun's heart that bewildered her. For it possessed an unfathomable color, the likes of which, she could never tear her gaze away from. Like a misty morning in a dewy forest, its subtle silver* tinged a picturesque image in her mind of an impenetrably enigmatic fairy realm that no mortal could ever dare traverse.

It was always soft-hued and transparent.

Glittering in the faintest light.

But not this time.

This time, it was felt muddy and dark; and though that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, or at least - she didn't think it was - the heightened contrast, sudden as it became, caused her worry to skyrocket in his direction.

Luka was just a baby.

No baby should ever look that disheartened.

Wanting to resolve the dip in his mood, but not knowing where to start, Luna mindfully followed his gaze onto the staircase, as he unconsciously spared a glance in the direction of the second floor before toddling on out.

Holding her position firmly at the bottom of the stairs, Luna looked up at the elongated path ahead.

In her mind, there could only be a few good reasons as to why Luka chose to return; and one of them was because he probably saw her as an unreliable support.

Decisively he had forged on ahead to search for...well, whatever it was he was searching for, but how he was willing enough to start back from square one, in an attempt to find someone he could depend on to help him.

But she could help him!

He'd already come this far on his own!

She wouldn't let his efforts go in vain!

Hence, running toward the unsuspecting boy, she wrapped her arms tightly around his torso, and dragged him up the steps. Practically doing a backward row with him in her lap, and a single arm holding his elfin body onto hers.

Climb...

Sit...

Climb...

Sit...

Onward she moved, all the way up the staircase, with much expended effort.

By the time the two realized it, they were already splayed out on the second floor. One, heaving from exhaustion; the other, bewildered by the fact that she'd done it faster than what it took him to cross the hall.

Through the huffing and lack of breath, Luna reassured her baby brother.

"It's...gonna...be okay...Luka-kun!"

Flabbergasted by her expression, he gaped at her while she regained her breath.

"If you can't do something, tell me. I'll help you, ne?" Sitting down with her arms outstretched in front of her, she smiled warmly at him. "I know I can't help at everything, but...I'm gonna do my best. So, don't be scared to tell me when you need help. Okay?"

Though unable to expressively show it, Luka was happy.

Very very happy.

Squeezing her into a tight hug, that would've surely suffocated her if not for her mutual return, Luka stood to continue their journey; and though much of the manor's second floor was still as dark and lugubrious as the bottom ground, Luna had already decided to help her brother as much as she could.

She didn't want him to look disappointed like that ever again.

Besides, she had already traversed much of the second floor earlier when Nii-chan and Nee-chama were bickering, so - if she remembered correctly - there was a way to get from here to Regina Nee-chama's room easily.

Maybe that's where Luka-kun was headed. They hadn't seen their Nee-chama after their big siblings and the adults were talking downstairs. Maybe she'd already left to her room, and was just waiting for them there!

'Ah! So that's what Luka-kun wanted to do!' She smiled, understandingly.

Grabbing a hold of his hand, Luna was just about ready to lead Luka back toward their sister's room, when she felt him halt in place and point in the direction of the hall opposite from where they stood.

Staring over at where his little finger brazenly pointed, she was pleasantly surprised to find a familiar figure - clad in a pale pink nightgown - sauntering her way down the corridor. Seemingly lost deep within her thoughts.

"Nee-ch-!" but Luka's quick squeeze of her hand stopped her from calling out to their beloved sister. "Luka-kun?"

Disconcerted by the caution his color* blared, Luna felt Luka tighten his grasp on her hand even more. All while staring apprehensively at the spectral-like figure roaming the halls - without so much as sparing them both a glance.

"Luka-kun?," Luna reassured her brother, "It's just Nee-chama."

But Luka didn't seem convinced.

And by the time Luna turned back to find their sister - she was already gone.

~S.O.V~

Removing his spectacles with a bloodied glove, Reiji felt the pervading frustration stab at his temples like an arrow shot straight through his cranium. Wrinkling his brows in added discomfort, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Forcibly willing away the rampaging thoughts that overthrew all rationality straight out the window.

Headaches were not a common malady vampires possessed.

They had become, however, a sort of 'expressive habit' he'd acquired from his illustrious Chichi-ue*, whenever his Mother and Cordelia would gripe at each other's throats - over one's inadequacy, and the other's vulgarity - as wives, in His esteemed presence.

And, although his concerns revolved around no such women and their catfights, they did - unfortunately - lay fundamentally attached to one.

"Preposterous," he seethed, clenching the bloodied glove with his balled fist. "To think her absence would affect me so."

Italian leather plodded over a disarray of broken shards, as Reiji - indifferent over the pervading 'crunch' that echoed in the room - approached his favored, button-tufted chair, and took a seat. Resting his head back against the cushion, he somberly gazed up at the ceiling. Feeling somewhat bitter about the whole ordeal.

Regardless of where he looked, everything around him - from the chipped corners of his wooden desk, to the bent rod persistently clinging to the tattered remains of a pitiful curtain - pronounced the havoc that, so obviously, consumed him within.

And, though he'd always been a keen disciple of his own intellect, his mind - his mannerism - it seemed, lay not without its faults. For they carried, within themselves, a chaotic dance of dissonant voices that could coordinate nothing - and everything - at once. Rendering him asinine to his own faulted delusions, it dangled him off an intellectual precipice where madness, where discipline, bubbled and frothed beneath abysmal depths below.

Trying to settle things within the best of his abilities, only proved to be a futile effort, since very little could be said - or done - to quell the raging tempest that gnashed at his conscience. Especially the choler tied in to any mention of her memory.

'Why?' he scrunched his eyes closed, 'After all this time...why must you continue to torment me so?"

A flash of pain struck at his head, again; and a passing thought - resurfaced.

Stilled by the sight of her stiff posture cavorting across the ballroom floor, Reiji watched the young girl awkwardly interpret the waltz he'd previously showed her.
Most of the time he'd made available out of his busy schedule, was spent educating her in all the lectures - a future lady of the house - need uphold. Of course, should she want to avoid being ridiculed by their demanding society, her culture had to be refined to the highest possible caliber.
Unfortunately, it appeared to be that ballroom etiquette was far from reach.
For there was nothing that could redeem such gauche movements, than an exceptional grace she obviously lacked.

Still...
Despite such lacking features, there was something about her that undoubtedly captivated him.
And, much like a moth to a flame, he was lured by her siren's call to his much welcomed demise.

At some point, the imperfections he sought to reform, had become endearing to him.
And, the more he watched her make a fool of herself on the ballroom floor,
the more he could see the eagerness she held to be taught, and to learn.
To improve, and to be praised.
To accept him...
and all he had to offer her.
For what he had to offer the bride of a future King was no mere trifle.

"Reiji-san!"
Unconsciously, he made his way toward her.
Her crystalline gaze was filled with such wonder - such reverence - that he felt as though he were Aidoneus, himself, in the midst of kidnapping Kore*.

"Did you see me? I finally passed the pirouette part without falling!"

He acknowledge her efforts with a grunt, but no more, as he watched her cut the distance between them.

Of course he'd seen it.
There wasn't anything about her he hadn't paid close attention to.
But damned would he be if he ever told her - a human - such.

"I promise I'll get better at it!"

Ah...
There it was again.
That smile.

Removing one of his gloves, he reached out to touch her alabaster cheek.
Warmth, unlike any he'd known before, seeped through his frozen persona.
Melting the heart, long frozen beneath, that was 'colder-than-death'.

"...Reiji-san..."
She whispered, burying herself further into his hand, not at all minding the frigidness of his touch. Resting her lips against his palm, he could feel the tenderness invade him. So much so, that he felt he'd be willing enough to become her fool.
Should she so desire.

Tracing the contours of her sinuous lips with his thumb, he longed to lay claim to her lips like the time Cordelia had possessed her body, but feared it was not yet the right moment for him to admit what he so ardently felt.

Without a word, they raised their gaze to one another.
Rosy and Wine.
Two reds, each at the far end of the spectrum.
He wondered what color they'd make if mixed.
Suddenly, she pulled away from him, making it a point that she needed more practice before calling it a day; and, just as she disappeared from his sight, she uttered one last thing.

"...I believe Reiji-san would make a great King one day."

He gripped the armrest with a force that nearly tore the leather from its seams.

'Your absence,' he glanced at the beige-colored chaise in front of him - albeit - briefly, 'was meant to haunt me no more. Your existence was nothing but a mere reminder of what I'd always known.'

Analyzing his healed hands he brushed away the flakes of dried blood with a handkerchief.

'That the differences our kind engraved onto stone, were meant to enforce the deference that your will would one day bestow upon my own.'

Just above his Adam's apple, a hollowed heaviness clung to his throat, but he pointedly ignored it - and the bitterness it left.

'With you gone,' he heaved a burdensome sigh, 'my life should've returned to what it once was. To what it always had been, and yet I...'

Glancing back at the chaise, the ghostly image of a faceless blonde outlined the empty seat before him; and the pain of the void left behind, rooted him to his own.

'How derisible.' He scorned, and closed his eyes once more.

'...Reiji-san...'

Clutching at the expensive black cloth over his chest, with a fervor that could almost rip the material apart in his grasp, Reiji released a muted snarl. Practically baring his fangs outside the seam of his paled lips.

That blonde wench was at fault for this sickening emotion. This putrid disease. This...This festering illness, that bore them a pain like none he'd ever known! Eating away at them - him - whenever her name passed through their lips like poison on the tip of a snake's tongue. Or when her lingering scent wafted through the air, smothering them - him - like the fumes of a smog infested city. Or even when the phantom in their dreams - his dreams - called out to him through the corners and corridors of his memories. Ridiculing him. Humiliating him. Making him yearn for something that was unattainable to them since the beginning!

She was the rot that should've been eradicated!

The black blood that should've been purged!

With her gone, there should've been nothing left for him to remember her by, yet-!

'Otou-sama!'

He stopped.

That girl.

'...My name is Regina...
...Regina Sakamaki...'

Regina.

A name that meant 'Queen' in a language as dead to the mortals as Adamic*. Even more so than Aramaic*.

Should he have expected she'd name her child such?

After all, hadn't that been why she told him what she did?

' I believe Reiji-san would make a great King one day.'

His fists trembled beneath the sheer pressure of his grip as his eyes fell onto the empty chair, again.

'Damn you, witch! Not even death had been enough to erase your existence from me!'

He stood up, intent on destroying that damned chair, once and for all - a chair he had wanted to gift her the evening before she left - but stopped himself short, and sat back down.

Unconsciously, his thoughts wandered back to the young girl.

If there truly was no remnant longing within him, searching for her memory through the simplest things - why then - had he gone through the unnecessary trouble of, not only, giving Regina her room, but also placing the nightgown within the girl's accessible reach?

A nightgown that had been purchased, and tailored, to fit her image.

Of a soft, girly, and meek lamb being raised within a den of vicious wolves.

Wolves that had been raised in golden cages, bereft of affection and yearning for acceptance.

Acceptance only she could've granted them, had she not left without so much as uttering a 'goodbye'.

"Yu-..." Catching a hold of his slipping reason, he clenched his teeth and grasped his hair. Tussling the darkened strands further than what they already were.

'Why...?'

Why was he indulging himself in the fleeting memory of someone whose existence wrought inextinguishable pain?

Why had he chosen to give away the one thing he had salvaged after her abandonment?

And to the child conceived of her womb, no less!?

Opening his eyes, once more, he glared at the empty chair - for the last time - before throwing the bloodied glove in its direction with a vehemence that was rather uncharacteristic in him.

How dare she?

How dare she taunt him with her absence by leaving behind a child that carried her eyes? How dare she give herself that kind of importance, even after death?!

"I gave you no daughter," he growled. "That girl is nothing of mine!"

But, in remembering the girl's docile tact - and flawlessly poised demeanor - he realized there were absolutely no qualms he could hold against her.

Even if much was desired.

Rather, there were no faults he could find within the girl, that would ever hold the same fervor as what he felt toward her Mother's memory.

Though, if their first meeting had given him any inclination that the girl was as messy and gauche - as her Mother before her - then it would've been easier to despise the girl, then and there. But the way she carried herself, and her siblings, had left quite an impression on him. Even if he hated to admit such.

Albeit, a bit timid, the girl possessed the natural qualities of a high-born noblewoman. So much so, that it was interesting to note how easily her 'soft commands' swayed her siblings' individual tempers - if Ayato's presumed son, had left any impact on him, after showcasing his powers the way he did.

But that wasn't what had caught his attention.

Not completely, at least.

It was the ease of grace with which she performed every movement; from the pattern of her speech, to the tempo of her walk - that was not commonly found in a girl, her age, who'd never undergone a noble's education before.

Or, at least, he didn't believe she had.

He certainly never taught that woman that; and, he highly doubted that the Church that raised them had such teachings available within their arsenal of vade mecum*.

Which could only mean that she-!

He shook his head.

He already held certain reservations about the girl because of her odd resemblance to that spiteful wench - Cordelia; at the very least, where looks came to play. However, something in her idiosyncrasy always brought him back to square one. Appearing more regal, than what that infamous b*tch could've ever hoped to achieve as the daughter of the notorious Demon King.

It was a quality he had always admired in his Haha-ue*, Beatrix.

And one he'd never thought he'd see again.

Reiji tapped at the armrest, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

He shouldn't be getting involved with that girl any more than he already had.

He should just deny her approach. Reject her, with the same cold fervency as his Mother did with him. But, for some reason, he couldn't do it. He certainly hadn't when he had the opportunity presented earlier; and, had yet to understand why that concerned him.

He wasn't blind.

He had seen the yearning and admiration in her eyes, even without his glasses.

It was a sentiment he knew all too well.

Regardless, he truly wanted to avoid the girl at all costs.

Until he could prove that those children were truly borne from their seed, he had no desire to keep the girl anywhere near him. Call it chauvinistic pride, or whatnot. For him, hardening his heart toward the suddenness of this situation, was just like casting an anchor out onto a tempestuous sea. Preventing him from being swept away by that fatuous emotion he had - long since - discarded.

An emotion that still ached and seared within him.

Grieving like death's retching throes.

Slamming his hands against the coffee table so hard, it rattled the tea cups on it, he growled out, "I refuse to be poisoned by your memories any longer!"

And, taking this moment to regain his composure, wordlessly stood. His eyes restraining a darkness so deep, that it never once revealed what lay so heavily concealed, beneath his mask of unusually cold civility.

Snap!

At the flick of his wrist, the two servants finally made entry.

"You summoned us, Master?"

"Clean this mess immediately," Reiji commanded coolly, "and ensure that my instruments are replaced at once."

"Yes, Master."

By the time Reiji faced his broken Herbaria*, the glass was nowhere to be seen, and the instruments - which had been dispersed about the room in a fit of frustrated rage - were, just as quickly, replaced anew.

Opening the newly established drying rack, Reiji mindlessly extracted a couple of herbs, before wrapping them up in a cotton cloth, and placing them to steam within a boiling copper kettle.

Perusing over his newly restored research book, he felt his eyes rest upon the Latin* text.

As a man of heightened intellect, he possessed a discipline that could rival a shaolin monk's in the mountains of Shaoshi*. Collecting centuries' worth of knowledge, which were - just as easily - applied in anticipation to any problem, without fail.

But, so it seemed, that even a man as astute as he, was no match for life and its endless curbs.

As such, it appeared, it had proven him wrong - thrice:

The first, with the unprecedented arrival of the Sacrificial Bride.

The second, with the abandonment of said bride.

And, the third...

He groaned.

Nothing made sense anymore, and this fact disconcerted him to no end.

whiiiiieeeeee...!

The sound of the kettle's sharpened whistle drew his attention back to the present; and though his thoughts still wandered without rest, his hands moved with the expertise of a genius scientist as he extracted the poisonous oil from the herbs and completed the vial for that specific bane.

Staring at the purplish liquid in his grasp, his eyes unconsciously roamed toward a small, silver-lined safe, tucked safely away within the corners of his apothecary's cabinet.

'Perhaps,' he solemnly thought, 'Had I finished it to perfection...Had I your body in my hands then, perhaps I could've-'

Out of nowhere, the sound of glass breaking a floor below, beckoned him to glance out his window.

Since the night still hovered across the dampened sky, he could not be clear as to what had caused the disturbance, but had an inkling as to where it may be located.

Releasing a profound breath, Reiji shut his book away and headed off toward the source of the disaster, which - he hoped - wasn't where he knew it to be.

~S.O.V~

"What are you doing here, Kaname-nii?" The redhead inquired, stunned to find his brother just outside his door, this late into the night.

"I...uh...I-I'm...I just..." Realizing he was stuttering as though he'd been caught in some sordid scandal, Kaname cleared his throat before continuing. But, how much of what had happened could he say without arousing the suspicion of the one person - he feared - would jump straight into the fray without cause or care?

"You just?"

Sweating buckets from the apparent disbelief in the redhead, Kaname mentally kickstarted himself into coming up with something on the spot. The last thing he wanted was for Akumu to blow the whole thing out of proportion with so little insight, so - cautiously - he decidedly omitted the two most important things within the incident: the effect the blood had on him, and the human-like quality it possessed.

"I was heading back to my room when I smelled something like blood around here. I thought someone might've been injured so I tried to follow it, but my mind blanched somewhere down the line. So, before I realized it...Here you have me."

"Uh-huh..." the younger one trailed off, unsure of whether or not to believe his older brother's words.

It wasn't that he considered Kaname to be a liar, or anything like it, but - rather - the story he gave him made absolutely no sense.

He'd been in his room the entire time, and at no point had he ever caught a whiff of blood. Unless, it was when...

Running his tongue over his healed lip, the redhead stared at his brother in astonishment.

He didn't think his brother had that sensitive a nose.

Kaname, on the other hand, greatly curious over Akumu's particular reaction - scrutinized the oddity in his behavior. He wasn't entirely convinced that his red-haired brother knew more than what he led on, but as the old adagegoes - "He who sloughs off the cicada's golden shell*, can reveal no secrets from within."

Perusing over the redhead's shoulder, at the lavish bedroom behind him, Kaname couldn't pinpoint anything that was remotely out of sorts with the room, except - maybe - the disheveled bedsheets. But, then again, it looked like he'd just woken up from a nap.

So why was he still not convinced?

To be honest, he didn't really think Akumu was remotely involved with the incident of the blood trail, but the way he was refusing to meet his gaze, was highly suspicious. Of course, it wouldn't hurt to investigate more on the subject - considering that, whatever the object of this trail was - was still at large, somewhere in the manor. But he just didn't know if pressing Akumu for questions on it was the right thing to do.

After all, something in his theory felt amiss.

The trail he followed, had it any connection to his wayward brother, would've at least clung to him - or his room, but there wasn't even the faintest scent lingering on either one.

That could only mean that...

'He's not the one behind it.'

Still, he wanted to know from Akumu - himself - what had happened after he left the bedroom. He just needed to find a more, roundabout way to say it, without making the redhead feel he was pressuring him on something he was innocent to.

"Tell me," he teased, "Did you do something I should be concerned about?"

Akumu, again, avoided his scrutiny. A light dust of blush tainting his cheeks.

"...No."

"Really?"

"...Yeah."

"Are you sure?"

"...Mhm."

"Was it," Kaname gulped, "because of what happened at Hime-nee's?"

Akumu stayed quiet.

'I see," Kaname thought as he ran a hand through his hair, nearly scoffing at the adamancy his brother was responding him with, before he had asked that final question.

Actually, the last question was thrown out into the open before he even had a chance to think it through. He supposed that it had much to do with the guilt he felt, prior to being overtaken by the blood trail. He just hadn't had the time to really ponder on it, until now, but...

Was it strange to admit he felt slightly relieved to hear it?

"Well," he cleared his throat, "I wouldn't put it past you if you had. Knowing you, I mean."

"What the hell?" Akumu bit back, "What's that supposed to mean?!"

"Nothing you don't already know," Tapping his brother's forehead, Kaname soundly chuckled, "Idiot."

Scrunching his lips into a visible pout, Akumu raised both of his hands onto his forehead and grimaced.

"Geez, Kaname-nii!" he said, letting the corners of his mouth lift. If only, slightly.

Although he was glad to know his brother wasn't mad at him, anymore, this sudden change in attitude - especially after what they went through earlier - felt rather...complicated.

As far as he knew, Kaname was always direct.

He was never someone who'd openly chaff him.

Like now.

And though he figured he'd apologize to Kaname, once he'd finish visiting Regina, he had fumbled on how to go about it; considering that the copper-head in question, had been pissed enough with him, as it was. However, if his brother was in a good enough mood so as to warrant a teasing, then maybe - just maybe - now was as good a time as any, to apologize for jumping the gun earlier.

"Hey."

That was his line of thought, until his brother interrupted him, and spoke first.

"About what happened...in Hime-nee's room, I mean," Kaname looked down at the ground, scratching the back of his head nervously, "I want to apologize."

"Eh?"

Pointing at his own cheek, Kaname looked up and stared at the slightly reddish mark on Akumu's face, "For slapping you...and also, for not trusting you."

Akumu merely shrugged in response.

"Nah, it's okay...that is...," he sheepishly admitted, "Same here. For what I said, I mean. Y'know...'bout Nee-chan and you guys...and that four-eyed Ji-san."

Both brothers felt awkward with their apologies, but greatly relieved to be confronting it now, than postponing it for later.

"Yeah. I think I know now why you did it." Kaname confessed, "I guess, I was just scared about what would happen after she was put on the spot like that, that I forgot how much you care about her."

"...'s not like I don't care the same way for you all." Akumu muttered.

"What?"

"N-Nothing!"

"At any rate," Kaname hid a smile, opting to let his brother off with that, even though he had distinctly heard what the redhead had said, "It didn't hit me until after the incident, that you have your ways of protecting Nee-san, just like the rest of us."

"'Course I do!" The redhead scoffed, proudly. Then, just as quickly, his gaze fell. "But, I know it wasn't the best choice. It's just that...All I wanted was for her to be happy, Kaname-nii. Like, happy because she's happy and not happy because she's happy we are."

With a sad smile, Kaname placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

"You know its not going to be that simple, right? To mend something that's never been there, I mean." Akumu glanced up at his brother, confused by the seriousness in his eyes. "I'm not only talking about Nee-san and Uncle Reiji, but the rest of us as well. They may be our Fathers, they may carry our blood, but - if you think about it - they don't know anything at all about us. Just like we don't know anything about them, save for what little Mother told us. So, how can we nurture affection when there wasn't any to begin with?"

"That doesn't seem to stop Hime-nee."

Kaname snickered at his brother's accusation of the blonde's recent actions.

Akumu clenched his teeth.

"I don't give a damn about that stupid Oyaji, but its not fair that Nee-chan has to put up with this crap just 'cause her dad doesn't like humans! I mean, what kind of stuck up a**wipe hates humans just because? Wouldn't he have hated Kaa-chan if he really didn't like them?"

Kaname hadn't thought much about it before, but that piece of spewed information did make sense.

Someone who abhorred humans to the extent that their Uncle did, couldn't possibly want to engender a child with them, right?

Of course, this insight only confirmed to Kaname that Father Komori's theory may have been right on the money.

And the idea of he and his siblings being born because their Fathers had forced themselves on their defenseless Mother, sickened him to no avail.

"Still, it won't be easy for him to care for her from one night to the next," He rerouted the conversation before he became any more paranoid on the subject, "It'll definitely take some time."

"But doesn't that mean there's still hope?"

"Akumu..." Kaname chided.

"No, I'm serious! Just think about it for a sec, will ya? Who wouldn't like Nee-chan?" He began counting with his fingers. "She's beautiful! She's nice! She's smart! She cooks amazing! There's so many great things about her that even ten sets of these," he gestured with his hands, "Wouldn't even be close to describing how awesome she is!"

Kaname chuckled at his brother's excitement.

"Are you the self-proclaimed president of her fan club or something?"

Akumu pouted.

"I'm being serious, Kaname-nii."

"Yeah. Yeah. I know."

"Tch. That damned four-eyed Uncle doesn't know anything! He must've got a stick up his-mnfff...?!" Kaname's hand flew straight onto the redhead's mouth - silencing him on the spot.

Bellowing a sharp 'shh', he glared out the window at the Eastern side of the manor, where a light suspiciously began to flicker on and off within a room.

If not for the hastily drawn curtains ruffling about, he would've ignored it altogether. But, now that his attention was zeroed in on it, something was definitely going on over there.

'Could it be related to the scent from earlier?' he wondered.

"Mfaathisffthithh?" Akumu questioned confusedly behind his brother's hand.

"Shhhh..." Kaname urged, watching the light flicker on for a few seconds more before plunging the room into stilled darkness.

Once he felt his brother remove the hand covering his mouth, Akumu whispered again.

"What is it?"

And though the eldest didn't immediately answer, Akumu was well aware something wasn't right with the way his brother attentively stared out the window. "Kaname-nii?"

Walking toward it, Kaname raised the windowpane, and started to sniff.

All he could get was the petrichor that clung to the misty air, but...no blood.

"Oi, Kaname-nii, what are you-?"

"Akumu," he immediately called out to his brother, as he moved away from the window. "Come here a sec."

The boy obediently approached.

"What?"

"Stick your head out the window for me."

Akumu drew back a step. "I thought you weren't mad?"

"What are you talking about?" Kaname raised a brow.

"You're not gonna push me out the window, are you?"

Kaname rolled his eyes, but kept his tone level.

A level that sent chills running up Akumu's spine.

"I need you to sniff the air and see if you can find a trace of anything that may be out of place. That's. It." Then, he added with a yandere*-like smile, "Unless, of course, you want me to test if you can fly, right now. I'd be more than happy to oblige."

Akumu shook his head with a shudder and immediately did as he was told.

Sniffing the air for just a few seconds longer than Kaname, Akumu finally retreated from the window and turned to his brother.

"I can't smell anything other than the rain but," he rubbed his nose, "There is something...toasty."

"Toasty?"

"Yeah, like remember the time you accidentally burned our breakfast? Like that."

Kaname omitted that embarrassing moment in favor of the detail his brother had just given him.

Glancing behind the redhead, Kaname counted the windows on the other side of the manor.

'1...2...5...8'

It was the 9th window.

As luck would have it, his Father's room.

"Wait here!" But before Kaname could turn toward the direction of the Eastern passageways and tread on alone, Akumu grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back.

"Not a chance! I'm coming too!"

~S.O.V~

Black beady eyes, perusing over the hall below with an expressionless façade, gleamed macabrely beneath the fulgurating lights of the grand chandelier.

Unbeknownst to the Machiavelli bear, the air ducts it found - upon escaping the cage within that locked room - had connected most of the manor's interior. Allowing it to roam freely, to almost anywhere it so wished; and having taken one on a mere whim, (without really caring where it led so long as it was away from that dreaded storage room) Teddy had, somehow, ended up here.

At the decorative rails of the ballroom's opulent ceiling.

As luck would have it, this is exactly where it found that White-haired Yankee, as well as dear ole Kanato, desperately searching for those two moppets.

And though it had originally planned a full-front attack on the two unsuspecting males, Teddy - now - had a different idea to employ.

Of course, it wasn't debatable how sweet it would be able to take out one of them. Both, if it felt lucky enough.

But - nah - it was better to withhold all of that pent up rage, for now.

Because if Kanato was here, that could only mean the squirt was - for the most part - alone, and unprotected; and, yeah sure, there was the off-chance he may be with one of his siblings, but Teddy didn't give a rat's a** about a bunch of half-breeds.

It had taken 3 grown a** men (and purebloods at that!) to coax him into restraint. This, thanks to the mini-me's power. So, what could mere - powerless - halves do?

'I need to get my hands on that squirt first,' The seams of its sewn lips stretched out like a Cheshire's toothy grin, 'Then I'll finally be free!'

After all...

To cut the strings that bound the puppet, one had to take down the puppetmaster first, right?

Cackling at its own perverse joke, Teddy sped off into the hall and locked all the doors to the grand room; effectively trapping the two men - now three, with the sudden addition of that Red-haired Ore-sama - inside. Laughing maniacally as it heard the men scramble to open the doors, Teddy used this opportunity to bolt straight through the air duct and into the crawl space that had led it there in the first place.

Now, pulling itself along at a demonic speed through the maze-like vents within the walls, Teddy thought up of many possible places the boy could be in.

The living room?

The kitchen?

One of his brothers' rooms?

One of his sisters' rooms?

...Or maybe, just maybe...

'frrrruuuhhhmmm!'

"Wha-?!"

It's cotton-filled insides, sponged with an inexplicable shudder - as though a current had washed over it with a force that could subdue an elephant - rendering Teddy temporarily immobile from the numbing sensation.

With an excited - albeit, severely annoyed - smirk, stretching over its sewn features, Teddy peeked ever slightly over its shoulder.

It could sense it was being watched, but couldn't quite pinpoint from where.

Struggling to tug its body away from the compartment in which its sponged insides stuck to the walls, Teddy was finally granted respite by a larger space. Now that it wasn't stuck, it was able to clarify where that surge of power was coming from.

'So, you're watching me from somewhere over there, eh?'

Frantically wriggling backward, Teddy felt its renewed purpose come alive once more.

He would do anything to catch that boy.

Absolutely anything.

And they would all pay for it.

'I will kill them all! Ha ha ha hahahaha! And then I'll use the boy to-!'

Just as it creeped backward so as to fall down the chute to the first floor, it felt another shudder overcome it - this time - from an all new different source.

Frantically glancing at its clamped surroundings, Teddy could feel a horrible pulse manifest within its mohair chest, urging it to split the seams and pull out whatever was in there. It was a horrible sort of pain. One that held no source, but pissed at its insides like an itch that could never be reached.

Infuriated by this, the - already murderous - bear, turned toward a loose vent that opened at the second floor's hallway, and readily jumped out.

'So, ya wanna play, huh?'

Teddy smiled macabrely.

'Playtime it is.'

Stealthily moving through the second floor's corridor, Teddy caught wind of one of the halves - the one that resembled the Fedora-wearing Pervert - speeding through the other end of the hallway.

'Looks like he's in a rush or somethin'...' Teddy shrugged, mildly debating on whether or not to follow after the boy and use him to locate Kanato's mini-me.

But before the idea could come to fruition, it suddenly took notice that that black-haired Honeydoll, from earlier, was walking straight toward it, almost as if she'd notice it was there; and before it had a chance to question how she'd come to find it, Teddy realized something wasn't all there with her.

Maybe it was because of how dark that passageway was - and, besides, it wasn't like the damn candles did any good to begin with - but, didn't her eyes look a bit...glazed? Almost as if she was floating in the penumbra of sleep and wake. Paying heed to nothing that stood in her way. Including one confounded Teddy Bear.

Watching her sleepwalk past it, Teddy couldn't help but appreciate the girl's sublime frame from where it stood, and a wicked grin erupted.

'It'd be a shame not to use such a beauty to my advantage once I'm free.'

Deviating from its plan to locate that squirt, Teddy silently stalked the young girl instead.

Vigilant of her every move, it scrutinized her with rapt attention, as she cut through corners and crossed vast hallways almost mechanically. Like some sort of wound-up doll.

So on, and so forth, she continued, which - to Teddy's minute frame - was both endless and pointless; and, before it had a chance to call this bullsh*t and turn back, she halted. One leg stretched out in front of her, the other frozen in place.

Teddy didn't know why, but that stance didn't look natural at all.

And this, coming from a possessed toy!

Peeking down the hallway, it noticed there was something at the far end. But there were no windows, no candles, no - well, anything - that could light the path ahead.

'This wasn't here before.'

Of that, it was sure.

Once the Honeydoll moved forward, and Teddy followed discreetly behind, it realized that that 'something' was, in fact, a large black door that seemingly materialized out of the blue, before them.

With long, thick, chains and large wooden planks barring entrance to any who dared approach.

Not to mention, the hall that led up to that room felt longer than most of the damn house!

'Guessin' we'll just head ba-'

...clank...clink...shhhrrkkk...

Much to Teddy's surprise, the chains and planks that looked to hold for another couple of millennia or so, fell - one by one - without her even touching them; and the, seemingly monolithic doors, readily made way for her to enter.

Drawn into the room, as if by force, Regina continued her pace until she stood at the dead center of the windowless room. Facing the wall at the far end, and just...staring blankly at it.

Teddy, though thinking it strange, was more focused on capturing this girl and using her to lure the boy to do its bidding, than mulling over the oddity of the circumstance, or the fact that the doors closed on their own behind them.

But, before it had a chance to plan a hostile takeover, whatever was possessing her suddenly released its hold; and Regina, thrown aback, awakened.

"Wha...W-Where am I?!"

"Hey ya, Honeydoll." Teddy cackled, as it watched her turn around to face it. Shock paling her complexion further. "Ain't no way you're escaping me now."

Then...

It lunged.

~S.O.V~

"Again!" The three brothers grabbed the nearby chairs and flung them straight at the window, but just like the last few tries, they bounced right back toward them. Clattering and chipping against the tiled ground.

"Damnit! No-go!" Ayato barked out, making the other two groan.

"Remind me who the f*ck thought getting bullet proof windows was a good idea?" Subaru grimaced as he sat on the tiled floor, his arms resting atop his knees.

"Oh that's rich coming from you!" Ayato accused, making his younger brother glare up at him.

"What'cha say, you cocky bastard?"

"Don't tell me you forgot already?" Kanato huffed in frustration, concerned that every second spent here was making Teddy get closer to Luka out there, "Reiji was tired of getting the windows fixed every time you broke them. So he had these ones installed last week!"

Subaru scratched the back of his head.

"That ain't my f*cking fault!"

"No sh*t it ain't." Ayato growled.

He didn't want to spend another second stuck in that damned room with those two dumba**es b*tching and complaining at one another.

"What should we do?" Kanato bit at his thumb, severely worried over the well-being of his son.

"The f*ck should I know?!" Ayato glared, already frustrated from the days events before he even had the chance to get some breakfast.

But before another moment's bickering burst out between the two, the youngest brother - Subaru - stood from his position, and walked toward the window. Catching the attention of the twins.

"Oi. Where the hell are you going?"

Subaru didn't answer Ayato's question. He just stood quietly in front of the windowsill.

"Subaru?" Kanato called out to him, curious as to what he was planning to do.

Out of nowhere, the twins shockingly watched their youngest brother kiss his fist and slam it straight against the glass. Causing it to loudly rumble in place.

"What the hell's the matter with you?!" Kanato questioned.

"Between me and this damn glass," Subaru smirked, "I wonder which one'll last?"

Kanato and Ayato glanced at each other, before sighing.

"Reiji's gonna have a fit when he sees this." Kanato input, pursing his lips.

"He'll string this a**hole up the highest pole he can find, that's for sure." Ayato laughed.

"Not if you two keep your mouths shut." Subaru bit back, pounding at the glass over and over and over again.

...rumble...

...rumble...

...rumble...

"Oi. It's not gonna wo-!"

...rum-...crack...

...crack...

...CRaaaackkk...

Down the glass went as it shattered completely, and Subaru, proud by his feat, rubbed his nose.

"What the-?"

"You broke it!"

"Ha. Now whose the bulletproof one here?"

"Reiji's gonna kill you when he sees this."

"I wanna see him try-!"

"Why is it that every time something happens its always you three?" Reiji, entering from the Eastern side of the building, was just about ready to snap a fit, when he saw the state of his recently purchased grand window. "Your explanation better be plausible this time."

---

Terms Definitions

Norman-styled - Romanesque architecture that developed in Normandy and England between the 11th and 12th centuries; and, during the general adoption of Gothic Architecture in both countries. Somewhat akin to French Romanesque architecture.

Language of the Ancients - In the context of this story, this language is a dead language that was once spoken by the founders (ancestors) to the Vampiric and Demonic races. I was inspired by the Chaos language in the NieR series. That, and the song that Devola and Popola sing (same title)...It's gorgeously divine. 10/10 recommended.

Blood Eagle - a ritualistic method of execution where victims had their ribs severed from the spine and stretched open to create 'wings'. Take note: all this was done while the person was still alive...bloody ain't it?

Hellhounds - supernatural dog from the underworld that has mangled black fur, glowing red eyes, super strength and speed, and is often ghostly/phantom-ish in appearance. They have fire-based abilities and either guide the dead to the afterlife or guard the gate to the underworld. Every country has a different view and folklore regarding these beings, but one thing is for sure. It's a dog.

[Men]** - They appear seemingly human, but their real appearance is unknown to all - even themselves.

Teneat Aeterni - Means "Eternal bind" in Latin (Summoning contract for servants)

By the whip that bears the power,

I thus lay my life unto thee.

Bound by blood

and a sacred oath,

Seven threads flow through me.

Nine gates I naught yet crawl,

to reach the chains that hast set me free.

Forevermore it shall be.

As it is done

So might not it be.

"By Charon's robes and his soul-varnished punt..." - I just made this up as an example.

Limbo - In Catholic Theology, Limbo is a viewpoint that concerns the after life condition of those that died in original sin without being assigned to the Hell of the Damned. There are two parts to Limbo: "Limbo of the Patriarchs" and "Limbo of the Infants". The first is for those who, in spite of their sins, died in the friendship of God but could not enter heaven until redemption. The second is where unbaptized children who died in infancy - or those who were too young to have committed actual sins - but were not freed from the original sin, go to.

God of the Underworld - Termed "Chthonic Gods" by the Greeks in mythology, in the context of this story it isn't Hades but the Head Demon before Karlheinz' ascent to power in the vampire/demon world. You'll find out more about them as the story develops further.

suppressants - tablets that help suppress the blood-lust cravings.

blood fragrances - think of specific perfumes in everyone's blood type, or - for those of you that are Harry Potter fans - something similar to "Amortentia" (but in the blood).

Holy Grail - a treasure that serves as a motif in Arthurian Literature. In this case, its a term used to denote an elusive object - or goal - that is sought after for its great significance.

Konpeito - Japanese sugar candy that looks like tiny stars (at least, to me).

Burrs - those spiky little shits that stick to your clothes when you go outside.

Shades - shadows.

Onii-chan - endearment for 'older brother' in Japanese. Not strictly tied to relatives.

Color - what Luna describes as 'heart's color' is like the aura of a person. It's like a spiritual body that reveals a person's true nature and character. The fragment of a person's soul, per se, revealing itself like smoke around the physical body.

Green - a green colored aura indicates growing compassion, love, and a desire to be of service - to help others.

Blue - a blue colored aura indicates peace, quiet, order, and a person who speaks truth and recognizes own authority. It reflects quietness, calm, and seriousness. Blue auras have a strong sense of purpose, are sensitive, and develop an inner guide/teacher. Darker shades of blue are an indication of connection to the deep mysteries of spiritual life, intuition, creative imagination, clairaudience (hearing what is inaudible), and telepathy.

Purple - a purple colored aura indicates a blending of heart and mind, integrating the physical and the spiritual plane. It is a color of intuition, high imagination, visualization, and connection to the world of dreams.

White - a white colored aura indicates spirituality, honesty, and purity.

Red - a red colored aura is associated with basic, primal urges. A connection to the earth, vital energy, and enthusiasm for life. It is a color that has zest for life and a desire to succeed and excel in the world.

Silver - a silver colored aura is associated with spirituality and the spirit realm. It is an expression of magic, power, and the mind. It is attributed to discipline and problem-solving.

Orange - an orange colored aura is associated with ambition, creativity, and energy. It is a passionate color and is emotionally expressive.

Chichi-ue - It means "Father" in traditional Japanese. This is an old-fashioned term that was mostly used by samurais and noble families in feudal Japan. It's rarely used nowadays. The modern term is 'Otou-san'.

Aidoneus...Kore - 'Aidoneus' is another name for 'Hades', God of the Underworld in Greek Mythology - and - 'Kore' is another name for 'Persephone', Goddess of Spring, and Queen of the Underworld. Basically, this is whole sentence is alluding to the moment where Hades, struck by cupid's arrow, falls in love - and kidnaps - Persephone from the mortal realm, and takes her to his kingdom to be his wife.

Adamic - There is no scientific proof that this is so, but it is believed by that the first language that ever existed was the one spoken by Adam in the Garden of Eden. Believed to be the language of God, or the Divine Language - as it is also known - it was a language spoken by Adam, with which he named all things. It is speculated that all modern languages came from this one source, before the Tower of Babel diversified it. In the context of this story, however, Adamic is the language that the Ancients created to communicate with every other race (think of it as a Rosetta Stone type of language), but is not the same in any manner or way, to the 'Language of the Ancients.'

Aramaic - It's a Semitic language of the Aramaeans that is closely related to Hebrew, Syriac, and Phoenician. it has served as a language of public life and administration of ancient kingdoms and empires, that it is also known as a language of divine worship and religious study. In most horror movies, you'll find that whenever a person is possessed by a demon, the language they speak is Aramaic. In the context of this story, this is the language of the Demon race.

Vade Mecum - A handbook or guide that is kept constantly at hand for consultation; a bible.

Haha-ue - It means "Mother" in traditional Japanese. This is an old-fashioned term that was mostly used by samurais and noble families in feudal Japan. It's rarely used nowadays. The modern term is 'Okaa-san'.

Herbaria - A systematically arranged collection of dried plants in a room, building, box, cabinet, or other receptacle that houses dried plants.

Latin - It's a classical language belonging to the Italic branch of the Indo-European languages. Originally spoken in the area around Rome, it was known as 'Latium'. Through the power of the Roman Republic, it became the dominant language in the whole of the Roman Empire. Latin also contributed to many words in the English language, as such you'll find the roots of these words to derive from it in theology, sciences, medicine and law. In the context of this story, Latin is the language of the Vampire race.

Mountains of Shaoshi - The original Shaolin Monastery was built on the North side of Shaoshi Mountain - the central peak of Mount Song - one of the Sacred Mountains of China in the Henan Province.

Sloughs off the Cicada's Golden Shell - Thirty-Six Stratagems is a Chinese essay used to illustrate a series of stratagems used in politics, war, and civil interactions (comparison to Sun Tzu's "The Art of War"). On Chapter 4: Chaos Stratagems - slough off the cicada's golden shell - means to mask oneself. Either leaving one's distinctive traits behind and become inconspicuous or masquerade as something or someone else. This is a strategy mainly used to escape from a stronger enemy. ** that phrase is the only one that belongs in the thirty-six stratagems, I just added the rest because I felt it was too plain for an adage.

Yandere - a portmanteau (lit. word blend) of two Japanese words : 'yanderu' (to be sick) and 'deredere' (lovestruck). Yanderes appear to be sweet, caring, and often times innocent before switching into someone with an extreme, violent or psychotic, disposition.