Author's Note: This took longer than I expected. As always my procrastination is boundless. I finally have the plot all laid out and I figure this will be around thirteen chapters in all.
I'm getting into the habit to post snip-bits of the chapter that I'm working on as Tweets on my twitter account. SeptemberEnds9 if anyone wants to follow to get peaks at what will be up.
"You want to do what? There's no way he's going to be able to protect himself, he still won't stand a chance in a fight," Blaine dissented at Wes's impression to start after the first object.
"We have to strike soon, the plane is ready and set for us," Wes held Blaine's burning gaze, "And I'm not so thoughtless as to not check up on your training sessions. He's doing fine, as much as I could tell. There's no reason why we shouldn't."
A person shuffling out of the shadows broke their discussion, both heads snapping to see Kurt walk through the doorway, eyes still blurry with sleep.
Wes smiled widely, "Perfect timing, the others will be here in a minute or so, and you'll need to know where we're going to be headed, and what we're going to need to find.
Kurt nodded, hesitant of what do to with himself, growing increasingly uncomfortable with Blaine's discomforting scowl. He still wasn't accustomed to the evident hatred Blaine had toward him. Kurt understood that Blaine thought he was frail, and in the beginning Kurt understood how he could believe that, and maybe even hate him a little for it. Now it appeared like there was no purpose whatsoever to clarify Blaine's feelings of animosity. Kurt supposed that the training would have softened Blaine a little bit, he didn't expect them to be Best Friends Forever, but he expected somewhat of a more positive alteration regarding him.
Kurt settled with taking a seat at the long table, glancing at the papers Wes had strewn around his area, a tattered piece of parchment catching his eye. It was torn at the bottom, cutting off some of the words.
An uncomfortable silence filled the large meeting space, nobody willing to begin a conversation with anyone in the room. It was too out of place, and the static clinging to the atmosphere emanating off of Blaine's disgust with Kurt's presence prevented any sort of compromise to the situation.
For what seemed to go on for hours ended in only a few minutes as the other's arrived, filling in their respective seats. Kurt had talked to most of them, Jeff in particular was always up to start some random discussion about anything in particular, and where Jeff was Nick was sure to be there as well, both of them seemingly attached to the hip, similar to how Santana and Britney were, expect they were always attached at the lips. Artie was alright too, sympathetic to Kurt's confusion and array of questions; he tried to explain as much as he could, without revealing too much too soon.
Then there was Puck, who, at first, seemed nothing more than extra muscle. In reality he was much more of a big brother to everyone and more intelligent than a person would expect at first. He honestly seemed to enjoy lending a hand when Blaine would go off on Kurt and storm out of the training room, muttering his incompetence.
They had a few heart to hearts when Puck allowed him to rest during their sessions. He had his heart broken once. When he was mortal he and this girl were expecting a child, but he wasn't known for staying with just one girl, but when he found out that she was with child he became increasingly more involved.
When Puck spoke about this Kurt could see the emotion and love he felt back then. He had honestly changed when this girl was pregnant.
The string was cut from his fairy tale when she had a miscarriage. She blamed him for the death of their child.
Puck never said anymore of what happened. He didn't need to.
In all everyone seemed completely nice, normal even, if it wasn't for the fact that they never slept and drank blood (which Artie had explained how they got it from a friend they knew at the nearest morgue).
"So, we're going to head out tomorrow to get the first object. Now, thanks to Ryan and Brendon, we have the first part of the prophecy," he lifted the piece of parchment paper and began to read out loud,
"Blessed by mortal priests
Holiday dripping in blood
Everyone drips this day
Under the shadow tallest
Below the Descent From The Cross."
Wes finished.
"So we're going to Italy?" Kurt inquired.
All sets of eyes landed on him, "How'd you guess?" Artie questioned, leaning toward Kurt, expression curious.
"It's talking about St. Markus Day right? That's in Italy, where they all wear red to celebrate St. Markus and when he dispelled vampires from the area. The painting, Below the Descent from the Cross. Painted by Daniele da Volterra, and right now it's being kept in the Volterra Castle, in Volterra, Italy. Why?"
"Because we went through a shit-ton of information just trying to figure out where it was, let alone that Below the Decent from the Cross was a painting," Blaine cut in before Artie could, voice unfathomable and dark, "So, how did you know that?"
"I know more than just fashion," Kurt said, resisting the urge to glare back at Blaine's intense gaze like a child, "And when we were learning about St. Markus and Volterra I was more interested in the art than the battles, so I did research when I was younger over the famous paintings and artists. That just so happen to be one of them that I remember looking into."
Blaine broke his gaze, visibly annoyed.
Wes grinned; face spread wide, "All rightly then, time to get packed up, I think we're all pretty much on the same page. We leave in an hour."
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They had landed, taking the time to prepare and Kurt was finishing up with his accumulation of all that he would require for the plan. He knew that he had to be equipped for just about anything that could transpire. He glided in a dagger through the sheath he had strapped inside of his boots, wary to the knowledge that he was basically returning to the vey thing he had tried to leave in the past. His old sais took their place (he had hoped that he would never have to use them after he walked out on his old life), each one secured on a belt that hung loosely around his waist. Strapped across his back was a sword. After assuring he strapped his guns to his belt before he was certain that he had everything he would have need of.
Puck gestured to Kurt to follow them out of the plane. They were cautious to make sure that they would not be exposed more than was absolutely necessary. With lifetimes of connections Wes managed to secure an illegal landing spot not many miles off of the castle. It was in an open field surrounded by thick forest, not a place many would normally travel. The festivities down in the city also improved their chances of not drawing any unwanted attention.
There was still the risk of running into the other vampires who were after the items.
Weaving their way through the thicket of trees and growth went swiftly, more than they had first expected, but then again all but one of them were vampires and their speed and agility allowed them to manage their way at a brisk pace, rarely, if ever, slowing down. Even Kurt, only a few weeks back into training with Blaine and Puck managed to keep to their speed and he made perfectly sure that he was never the one to slow down. His body was reacting to the training and reverting back into the natural ability he had repressed.
Hunters were always stronger, faster, and more flexible than a normal human, it was in their blood and although they were never ones to completely match a vampire, it was enough to hunt and successfully kill a vampire.
Kurt had always had more of an aptitude for hunting than was ordinary for a hunter. Tapping back into his ability permitted his stride to be just as good as any vampire.
The separation between hunter and vampire was always there, but now Kurt tried to separate himself from the increasingly small difference between him and a vampire. Now it seemed all he had was a warm blood and a heartbeat.
He tended not to dwell on those thoughts.
Only when the woods thinned out did they purposely slow their swiftness into an average hiking speed. It was more likely that there would be a human walking around in these parts than before. Even so the group quickly found themselves upon the grounds of the old castle.
From the hill, teaming with swaying grass, and their perch just out of the trees they could see the old buildings of Italy. The small roads collecting and streaming through the city, artistry of the ancient centuries impeded into the modern world, much like the vampires themselves.
Where the trees lay scattered about the grounds, more for decoration than anything, stood the castle. Just as the city the castle was a piece of the old world, it's beauty and power dimmed by the glittering sparkle of the new world.
"Come on, there's a servants pass on this side." Wes motioned them to follow.
He took them to the cover of a stone design, swiftly pushing it aside to reveal a circular iron door, which he pulled back on its hinges, opening into darkness.
"There's a ladder that leads down to the underground servants passage. Take that until you reach the bottom," he met with everyone's eyes, "All of you," his gaze settled particularly at Blaine, who merely rolled his eyes of the simplicity of climbing down metal pipes, like a human, than jumping down and landing on the solid ground.
Nick and Jeff just shrugged and started down first, followed by Santana and Britney, then Puck, Kurt and Blaine. Kurt noticed that Wes checked his footing before he closed and locked in place the iron plate. He found that unusual that he would be concerned about his balance, but he took it as him being cautious and, again, not wanting to draw any attention.
The metal pipes used as a makeshift ladder was not as deep as one would have imagined, though it was by no standards a short decent to the dirt floor. The light closed off by the shutting of the door would have cut off their sight if it were not for their ability to see through the thick black dark.
Kurt was thankful for his capability to see in the pitch black of night, again, he'd always had better sight than most would expect, and he was glad that it meant that it did not slow him down. He was under the constant impression that he had something to prove to this group. Maybe not Puck or Britney, she had latched onto him fairly quickly (He had a feeling that Santana put up with him only because of her), though Nick or Jeff did not seem to think that he was a reliability, but they still had a hesitance toward him and he knew that it had to do with the fact that they did not think much of his skill either. Wes just wanted peace and was more of a mediator than one who held strong opinions on anyone who wasn't entirely out of line.
Yes, there was a part of him that wanted to show Blaine that he could handle himself in any situation. Kurt could care less how Blaine thought of him as a person. That was something that Kurt refused to be concerned about, in regards to anyone. Though, when it came to his ability to fight, Kurt was unwavering to demonstrate himself to Blaine, just to throw it in his face.
It was unspoken that they would walk through the servant's hall without lighting one of the old fashioned candles that hung delicately on wooden blocks attached to the moldy walls.
The paths criss-crossed with each other, numerous times they cut apart into separate ways, right or left, but Wes seemed to know exactly where to go. He explained that he had old connections that recollected their time at the castle and succeeded in giving a methodical framework of the concealed channels and the innards of the castle.
A final walkway and they were face to face with a basic wooden door, nothing more than a warped knob for embellishment.
It swung open with hardly an ominous creak.
The halls were less narrow and decorated with the traditional ornaments, with a touch of present day. Electric lights brightened up the stone walls, draped with old-style tapestries. The floor was carpeted with a modern design that paid tribute to the grape vines and colors of Italy.
"Now, the painting is just down a few halls." Wes directed, "In the hall of the tallest tower."
Puck cut in, "There isn't any signs of movement around that range so this could be an easy get in and get out type of deal." Vampire hearing was useful and Puck had the best ears them all.
"We won't have to hurt anyone?" Britney's voice was soft and sounded anxious for the well-being of any of casual person. Kurt knew that she had a past, where she killed a lot of people against her will (her creator did not have a penchant for human life), before she left him and found another way to live.
She had learned on her own that she could drink from the blood of animals and since then she was determined not to hurt another person. Britney was the one that found Santana and managed to break the ice wall that encased her heart. Britney introduced Santana to her method of feeding. It was a long, hard process, the habit of drinking fresh human blood was one that was difficult to break, but Santana did it for Britney.
Santana looped her pinky with Britney's.
"No sweetie, no one is going to get hurt," her words were final, "If we see anyone we'll avoid them or direct them away."
Britney nodded content with Santana's reassurance.
"Let's go already," Blaine barked out, "No use standing around."
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The painting was there, right where it was said it would be. Set up above a mantel carved from the stone, in full detail from its complete restoration it underwent not that many years ago.
On top of the mantel, resting just below the painting was an iron goblet, warped to look silver. Humans said that it was made out of pure silver, but if that were the case then no vampire would be able to hold it.
There were no jewels or ostentatious accessories embedded into the iron. Nor was there any indication that this could be anything but silver. Only a carved design on the edge of the drinking cup could be identified. Ancient runes twisting into a flowing work of art.
A skilled hand crafted this goblet.
Blaine snatched it from its resting place. There was no searing pain or burning of his skin.
He eyed it warily, "Does anyone know how to read this?"
Wes took it for a better look, weighing it in his hands and scrutinizing the scripture.
"It's not a language I've ever seen."
Each vampire held it, eyes strained in concentration to attempt to decipher the runes.
"How the fuck are we supposed to find the next item if we can't read it?" Santana demanded, frustrated.
"What if we're not supposed to be able to read it," Puck enquired, "What about Kurt?"
"What about him?" Blaine commanded.
Puck shrugged and folded his arms, "Well, he's a part of this whole thing right? So I figure that he'd be the one to read this thing."
"Well… it couldn't hurt to try," Nick glanced at Wes, who only nodded.
"It couldn't."
Kurt supposed that what Puck said made sense. So he took the chalice in hand and studied the designs. He felt his vision blur and wondered why they had such a hard time reading the scripture.
"Kurt?" Wes's voice was a dull roar.
Kurt's voice cut across the other's trying to vocalize their concern, it was monotone.
"To the place where the dead sing
And the steam runs life poison
Inside holds the vial of unholy priests
This you mix with alluring blood"
Kurt blinked and his vision was cleared. He looked around the stunned faces of the others.
Blaine broke the shift in the air,"Well fuck,"
No one else could manage another response.
Stunned silent, no one noticed the sliding of stone above their heads, closing an overhead passage.
Author's Note: Action will be coming up in the chapter after the next.
Ignore the fact that St. Markus Day was mentioned in Twilight. It fit and I needed something. Also the painting, Below the Descent from the Cross by Daniele da Volterra, is real. It has a Wikipedia page. wiki/Daniele_da_Volterra.
Disclaiming shocker! I do not own any information I got from that page (which wasn't much) and did I ever mention that I don't own Glee? Just in case, I do not own Glee, only the plot and the poetry.
P.S.
I'm quite proud that I managed backgrounds for the background characters. Usually I ignore them for the main characters. It's not a lot of interaction with them, but it's more than I've ever written before.