Bloodline

by roxy.svl

Sequel to Endgame. The game is over and everyone lost. So begins the aftermath of the biggest scandal in Vampire Mountain history. The War of the Scars has begun. Kurda's been dishonourably exiled for high treason, and Mika is left to pick up the pieces of his life. [Mika-centric. Basically his life, parallel to canon between books 7-9].

26. PART II: Kingdom Keys

Ah shit, here we go again.

Chapter 26: Kingdom Keys

Song: Look What You Made Me Do by Taylor Swift

---

I don't like your kingdom keys

They once belonged to me

When the air around him turned ice-cold out of nowhere, there was a part of Steve that knew exactly what he was going to see before he even turned around. He'd been minding his own business, nibbling on a piece of bread and watching the guard on duty pick his nose every so often. Til his visitor showed up, it had been a pretty slow day. Feeling his heartbeat in his throat, Steve turned around sharply, facing the back of his cell.

"How'd you get in here?" He growled.

"Effortlessly." Desmond Tiny replied with an amenable grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Good to see you, Stephen. Don't bother hollering for the guards. I'm only perceptible when I want to be. They can't see or hear me. Nor can they hear you talking to me. But even if they could, what would they do about it?"

"What do you want with me now?"

"First of all, congratulations. Not only did you convince the vampire clan to keep you alive after your failure in the cavern, they literally carried you into their sacred stronghold to do whatever you please. Quite the comeback, Stephen. I figured you'd try, but the chances of it working were slim."

"Don't be so surprised." Steve fired back, temper flaring. "I'm the fucking Vampaneze Lord. The war isn't over til I say it is."

"Is that right? I don't suppose you've figured out how to get out of this box yet, have you?"

"Of course I have. I've made friends here-"

"Don't spoil the ending, dear boy! I can't wait to see what you come up with."

"Why did you come here, Tiny? To taunt me with vague, cyclical hints that could mean anything?"

"Always straight to the point with you! That's my second order of business. I don't expect these vampires are in the habit of keeping you in their loop, but I felt you should know your son is en route to the mountain as we speak."

Steve's body went stiff, every hair standing on end.

"They're bringing Darius here? Why?!"

"Probably because you lost your head and spilled his location during an interrogation! Thought you were smarter than that. When Sire March checked up on your little family to calm Darren's worries, he didn't find the innocent, oblivious human he'd expected. Instead he found a fresh, young half-vampaneze with more power than he can possibly understand."

"Answer my question! I asked you WHY?"

"Don't be pushy. Something about being a danger to himself and everyone around him. Personally I was enjoying watching the boy flounder in confusion, but I'm sure he'll be equally entertaining in Vampire Mountain."

"Don't play games with me! What's going to happen to him once he's here? If they try to turn him into a vampire, I swear to the gods I'll-"

"Funny you should bring that up. I wouldn't put it past young Darren to attempt a little switcheroo with the blood you've already given your son. That could potentially throw a wrench into your grand plan of turning the legacy of the Vampaneze Lord into a dynasty. And don't bother trying to tell me that was never your intention. Remember, I know everything."

It was a rare occurrence for the leopard to be rendered speechless, but here he was.

"Listen, I'm a busy man. I have better things to do than sit in this box with you." Tiny continued amicably. "But let me caution you. If one were to mix the Vampaneze Lord and a Vampire Prince… I dare say the chemistry between those two bloodlines would be formidable. And if even a drop of the Vampaneze Lord's blood found its way into the Stone, that might just be enough to permanently disarm those magic doors to the Hall of Princes. But then again, it's never happened before, so this is just my little theory! If I've learned anything in the last century, it's to expect the unexpected with you lot."

Tiny winked. Steve felt his limbs go numb. And when he blinked, the little man disappeared as if he'd never been there at all.

You asked me for a place to sleep

Locked me out and threw a feast (What?)

MEANWHILE:

"That was a nice day and a half before something else awful happened." Mika murmured. Kurda looked up at him - it was the first time either of them had spoken in the hour they'd been sitting beside Renley Azerion's bedside in the infirmary.

Well, Mika was sitting beside Renley. Kurda was sitting beside Mika, because he didn't particularly care for Renley. But he had no ill will for him either. A guard had found him floating in a bathing pool earlier that night. It appeared that someone had taken a large rock to the side of the young General's skull and left him for dead. It was a miracle Renley was still alive, and that Jai was able to keep him that way. Nobody knew what had happened. Renley didn't have any known enemies, and there hadn't been any witnesses.

Mika was keeping it together, but he was shaken. Kurda could tell, because of course he could tell. This is Mika we're talking about. And when Mika cares about somebody, so much for that legendary poker face.

"He might have just slipped and hit his head." Said Kurda softly. "I know it's not likely, but it's possible."

"That didn't happen!" Mika snapped, instantly heated at the suggestion. But he dialled it back in the blink of an eye. "Fuck, I'm sorry, Kurda. Of course it's possible. I just don't think that's what happened."

"Well, Darren and Arrow are questioning every single vampire in this mountain as we speak. If anyone knows anything, it'll come to light."

Mika nodded, but didn't look entirely comforted.

"Look, I know you have history with him that wasn't there before I was exiled. If you didn't, you wouldn't be here." Kurda ventured after a moment.

"So what?" Mika muttered, tense again. "You were with someone for a while too!"

"I know that -"

"It started as sex. When I got back to the mountain after five years away I felt trapped. Couldn't get away from all the reminders of the worst day of my life. And even before Paris died I was practically running this place alone. When I needed a distraction, Renley was there. When Paris died, and I lost it..." Mika faltered, and he closed his eyes for a moment. When he found his voice again, it was strained. "I mean, really fucking lost it... he sat with me at rock bottom. He didn't even flinch. Then he dropped everything to help me the night Gracie was attacked. And the last thing I said to him yesterday was go away."

"I wasn't coming at you." Kurda countered firmly but gently. "I wish I'd known you had someone. Would've made me feel better. You deserve every scrap of peace you can possibly find in this world."

Mika nodded, and Kurda watched with relief as his body un-tensed.

"Thanks for sitting here with me. I know I should be doing something useful right now, but-"

"We've done everything we can do until Vancha comes back with news." Kurda interrupted. "You're allowed to take a minute."

"He told me he was in love with me. I couldn't say it back, but for a while I wanted to." Mika croaked. There was guilt and regret etched into his face as his eyes darted up to catch Kurda's.

"That's too bad, Mika." Said Kurda softly, meaning it. "Because the night he helped us save Gracie, he looked at you the way you used to look at me."

"I know. He deserves someone who looks at him the same way, and I tried." Mika whispered. "But it doesn't work like that. You could be in exile on the other side of the world, or sitting in a fucking throne beside me and it wouldn't make a difference. I can't turn it off. It's always going to be you."

Kurda exhaled long and slow, running his hands wearily over his face. When he opened his eyes again, Mika was gazing back at him, not with romance, but heavy resignation. Kurda reached out and traced his fingertips lightly down Mika's exposed forearm, taking in every vein, curve of muscle and every scar - battle and otherwise.

"And you for me." Said Kurda simply.

Mika broke eye contact with Kurda, blinked a couple times and rubbed the corner of his eye. Finally his gaze drifted back to Renley's sleeping form.

"No matter what we are or aren't, I still can't pretend this is any other vampire. Gods, Kurda... if it somehow had something to do with me…"

"Hey. There's no way this could possibly be your fault. You went out of your way to make sure nobody knew, you said it yourself. We'll get to the bottom of it." Said Kurda steadily, his hand working its way into Mika's, fingers locking together like puzzle pieces.

"You know, you could tell me the sky was red and the grass was purple and I'd believe you." Said Mika. His face was momentarily lit with a ghost of a smile that was medicine to Kurda's soul.

"Good to know you have absolutely no critical thinking skills." Kurda replied. He mirrored Mika's smile, and chuckled gently when Mika rolled his eyes at him. Those steely, calculating eyes that could be so cold after all they'd seen, and yet still hold so much life. But he couldn't linger on Mika any longer than that, and maybe it was for the best. Because at that moment, Larten Crepsley came blasting around the corner looking absolutely grim.

"What's up your ass?" Mika greeted him as he approached.

Larten narrowed his eyes slightly.

"Always a pleasure to consult with you, Sire Ver Leth."

"I get that a lot."

"Any change on General Azerion's condition?" Larten inquired politely, even though it was pretty clear that wasn't why he was here.

"No." Said Mika. "But he's as stable as he's going to get. So now we wait. Have Darren and Arrow made any progress on the investigation?"

Larten shook his head, frown deepening. There was a hazy sort of distance in his eyes, like he was here, but not here.

"You alright?" Mika added. "You look a little stunned."

"I suppose that would be as good a description as any." Larten replied sombrely.

"Consider me intrigued."

"I just received an update from Vancha. He found Darren's sister and nephew. They were at Leonard's childhood home, just as he told you."

"Oh, I get it. This is a Mika Was Right visit. That's why you look so miserable. Go ahead, Quicksilver. Say it." Mika flashed a grin, goading Larten. No matter how they both denied it, there had always been and would always be a shade of rivalry between them. But Larten's brow furrowed, and Mika's haughtiness faded. "Okay, now you're scaring me. Why do you have that look on your face?"

"Darren's nephew is safe, Leonard was honest about that. But what he failed to tell you was that he had already blooded the child as a half-vampaneze." Said Larten. "That, Mika, is why I have this look on my face."

Kurda inhaled sharply at the revelation. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mika flinch in alarm, albeit so slightly it was hardly perceptible.

"Well, fuck." Said Mika calmly, even as his own face went as pale as Larten's. "Now what?"

"Vancha felt it was best not to leave the boy where he was. He is en route back to Vampire Mountain with him." Said Larten."And do not ask me what will happen when he arrives, because I do not know." Kurda wasn't entirely certain, but he thought he heard Larten's voice crack.

"Does Darren know?" Mika asked. And Larten appeared to die inside at that.

"I just told him." Said Larten.

"...And?"

Larten closed his eyes and ran his hands over his face anxiously. He took a few shaky breaths before sitting down next to them on an empty cot.

"He is devastated." Larten rasped, after what seemed like an eternity. "He ordered me to leave the Hall of Princes, and he sealed the doors. Arrow is asleep. Mika, I need you to open the door so I can speak to Darren. Please."

Mika sighed, and for a moment he occupied himself with spinning the wide silver ring he wore around the middle finger of his right hand. The one Kurda wore around his neck during their years together. The good years.

"I could." Said Mika at last, looking back at Larten. "If you really want me to open the door, I will. You know Darren best. But first, here's some food for thought."

Larten's eyes narrowed; it was clear he didn't come here expecting food for thought.

"I did the same thing when I found out Paris died." Said Mika bluntly. "It wasn't professional, but it was what I needed to survive the moment. And I'd be a hell of a hypocrite if I didn't allow Darren the same chance."

"That is a lot of empathy coming from the man who sentenced him to suffer the Trials of Initiation!" Larten barked, eyes alight with indignation. Kurda's eyes darted between the two of them with interest. Mika and Larten were the two most headstrong vampires he'd ever known. Larten was brazen, while Mika was more understated. But they were equally stubborn, no question about it. If this was how it was when Larten's assistant was a Prince, Kurda could only imagine the nuclear arguments that would've broken out if Larten himself had followed through on his investiture nomination once upon a time.

"And look how it turned out. He earned the right to do exactly what he's doing right now." Mika countered. "The mountain is asleep, so he's not currently inconveniencing anyone. If he needs to take a minute, who are you to say different?"

"I am the closest thing he has to family!" Larten thundered at last. "That is who I am!"

"Aside from his real family, of course." Kurda cut him off. And if it hadn't been for the looks Larten (apalled) and Mika (exasperated) were giving him, Kurda wouldn't have believed the words came from his own lips. He certainly hadn't planned on speaking up. But suddenly it was seven years ago and he was back in the Hall of Khledon Lurt, shaking in disbelief over how much Larten failed to tell Darren about the clan. Maybe it was because Kurda had a daughter he loved more than life itself. Or maybe it was just his basic fucking compassion. But either way, that day ignited within him a fierce protectiveness over Darren.

"I beg your pardon?" Said Larten

"You heard me." Said Kurda. It was too late to take it back, so he supposed he was committed now. "After everything you put that child through, you can't be surprised he needs time to process the fact that his nephew he didn't know existed, the son of the sister who thinks he's dead, has been sentenced to the same life of violence. All because of a choice you made. For reasons you still can't explain."

Larten's eyes looked in danger of bugging out of his head as he stared Kurda down, but Kurda held his gaze. Because he knew he'd struck a nerve. Larten was reckless, but he was no idiot.

"You are in no position to talk down to me, Kurda Smahlt." Larten hissed. "The Princes may be moving on from what you did, but all I see is the empty places among us where Gavner and Arra should be. I will be civil to you, but I will die a fiery death before I take criticism from you. Mind your place."

"Don't even start. That goes for both of you. Larten, either support your apprentice or step aside and let him handle his business. Because we all know damn well he can handle as much as any of us." Mika growled, turning his laser death glare on Larten.

Larten nodded grimly but didn't argue. Mika nodded back, and looked to Kurda. Kurda didn't miss the way Mika's fiery gaze automatically softened as he changed target.

"Kurda, you've been back for five whole minutes - it's a little soon to be that righteous." Mika added, arching an eyebrow.

Kurda mumbled a halfhearted affirmation. Mika was glancing back and forth between Larten and Kurda now.

"Hasn't Leonard caused enough problems? This all comes back to him." Said Mika sombrely. "He's not even in the room and he has you going at each other's throats! The best thing you can do right now is present a united front to the rest of the clan, even if you have to fake it."

"You would know that better than anyone." Larten muttered, voice clipped but not combative.

Mika allowed him a grim smile.

"Exactly."

The world moves on, another day, another drama, drama

But not for me, not for me, all I think about is karma

Darren enjoyed exactly twelve hours of blissful, uninterrupted peace between the moment he found out his family was safe, and the crushing revelation that his nephew had been blooded into the vampaneze clan.

Darius.

A boy he'd never met, a boy he didn't even know existed til a week ago. A boy he loved more fiercely than he believed possible because he was Annie's, which meant he was part of Darren. Part of the family Darren thought he'd severed ties to, when he was too young to fully understand what he was doing. And Darius was younger still. At eight years old he'd been initiated into a life of violence and darkness his young mind wasn't even capable of comprehending.

And that was more devastating than Darren's weary heart could handle, so he snapped at Larten. Because all of this came back to him. His choices. His recklessness. It was only now, in adulthood, Darren had come to terms with how unfair it truly was. Of course he'd forgiven Larten long before that. But the news about Darius had re-ignited that old fire tenfold.

Darren brooded in the Hall of Princes for hours as the mountain slept. Eventually Arrow appeared to start his work night. Clearly nobody had filled him in on the news yet. Oblivious to Darren's attempt to hide from the rest of the world, Arrow left the Hall doors wide open to get the nightly meetings started, and Darren took that as his cue to get the hell out. It wouldn't be long before Larten was back in here trying to talk about all the things Darren didn't want to talk about.

Darren found himself on the bars in the Hall of Baker Wrent, practicing in solitary to blow off steam. He got in a good hour and a half before he had company. Darren sighed as Gracie made her way up the bars. Normally he was always happy to see her. But he didn't think he'd ever felt quite this lost and frustrated in his entire life, and he wanted to process that in silence a little longer. If she'd been anyone else, he would've told her to get lost. But he knew better than to try - the daughter of Mika Ver Leth didn't answer to a soul on this earth.

"How's it going, buddy?" Gracie greeted him with a comically exaggerated tone, similar to that of a kindergarten teacher. This had been a running joke for as long as they'd known each other, and normally she could always make him laugh. (Not like it was hard to get a laugh out of Darren). But today wasn't a day for laughing.

"We're the same age." Darren grunted.

"I know." She paused for a moment before adding more soberly, "I heard the news."

"Who sent you in here? Mika or Larten?"

She raised an eyebrow, but didn't outright react to the less-than-warm welcome.

"Neither."

"Kurda, then? Harkat? It was Harkat, wasn't it?"

"Believe it or not, Darren, your family drama isn't the most earth-shattering thing going on in this mountain right now. I just thought you could use a friend. But you can wallow in angst if you'd rather. I'll head out." She replied evenly.

"Wait! I'm sorry - don't leave." Darren sighed. "It's just… I'm really not having a good day."

"I'll let it slide this time. I wanted to tell you I'm moving out of my childhood room, into the central corridor where the rest of the cubs stay." Said Gracie. She was giving Darren a mildly pointed look - although her point was escaping him.

"Congratulations." he deadpanned. She huffed impatiently.

"And that means there's going to be a vacant kid-sized room around the corner from the royal suites where your room is. Have you figured out where I'm going with this?" Gracie added. Much more pointedly. Then it clicked. Darren was a little embarrassed it took him that long to figure out that she was offering up the room for Darius.

"That's kind of you. I just need some time to… I don't know. Process it, I guess."

"Do you want to process while you're flailing around on the bars like an emo karate kid? Or while you're doing something productive?" Gracie pressed, a little disparagingly. "Because your nephew is on his way whether you've processed it or not. And he's probably having a worse day than you."

There it was. Kurda's relentless compassion and Mika's stone-cold logic, all rolled into one. Darren let out a tired laugh.

"Emo karate kid?"

"Couldn't resist. There's not that many vampires here who understand my references."

Darren ran his hands slowly through his hair, and turned to face her. She was right. He didn't know how long Darius would be here. It could be a week, or it could be years. All he knew was Vancha was right to bring the boy here, and just how badly it could go for an inexperienced new-blood trying to cling to their humanity at a tender age.

They slowly climbed down from the bars and made their way up to the corridor that led to the vast, private cavern where the royal suites were located. Darren hadn't actually moved up here til recently. He'd been quite attached to the old room he used to share with Harkat. But he had to admit, the royal suites were nice. And Gracie's old room really was ideally located.

"My first room here was the storage cavern connected to my dad's suite. When I was seven or eight, I moved into this one." Gracie recounted as she stood in the centre of the room, casting her eyes fondly over the collection of old furniture and half-packed boxes. "It was perfect for a kid that age. I was ready for my own space. But if I ever got sick or had a bad dream, I was still close enough to run around the corner and make it my dad's problem-"

"I'm not his dad! We don't even know how long he'll be here!" The words flew out of Darren's mouth before he could stop them. Gracie slowly rotated on the spot to fix him with a withering stare.

"I know you're not his dad. This room just makes logistical sense. That's literally all I'm saying. Do you want help or not?"

Darren managed to maintain his irritation for another three seconds, then his face fell.

"You're right. I'm sorry… again." Darren winced. "Thank you. Seriously. This room is perfect."

"That's strike two for today." Gracie replied with a wry smile. "Check your attitude."

Darren rolled his eyes, but smiled and threw a feather duster at her. They spent an hour or so tidying the room up. Until Harkat came blazing around the corner, breathing heavily.

"Vancha and Darius… have… arrived!"

And then the world moves on, but one thing's for sure

Maybe I got mine, but you'll all get yours

HALL OF PRINCES:

Mika and Arrow knew the rest of the vampires in the mountain would have endless questions for Vancha upon his return - specifically, what was so important that for the first time in history, all of the current Princes would gather together in the same room? To avoid a repeat of the chaos that broke out upon Darren and Kurda's arrival, they'd ordered the Hall of Princes to be emptied completely, even the interior guards.

It would only be minutes now before Vancha reached the Hall of Princes. Darren arrived within minutes of Harkat going to alert him. Mika heard Larten inhale with audible relief at the sight of his apprentice. Darren looked a little dazed, but determined as he joined the others on the throne platform.

"Darren, please listen to me." Larten burst out as soon as he was within earshot. "I owe you an apology, and I have kept you waiting for longer than I care to admit-"

"I know." Darren interrupted calmly as he sat in his throne. "It's okay. I forgive you."

"You - what?"

"I forgive you. But it's not about me anymore. In a few minutes, my sister's only child is going to walk through those doors." Darren continued. "And all I care about is making sure he never feels as lost and scared as I did when you first blooded me."

Mika watched out of the corner of his eye as a silent, solitary tear trickled down Larten's cheek. But Larten merely nodded briskly.

"And if you will allow it, I will help you however I can." Said Larten, only sounding a little strained.

Darren managed a thin smile and replied,

"We'll talk."

"You should tend to his needs once he arrives." Larten added. "The boy will be weary from the trip. I will remain here and update you on whatever news Vancha brings back."

Darren raised an eyebrow and shot a questioning glance at Mika and Arrow, who nodded in validation of Larten's suggestion.

Then came the telltale hum that accompanied the doors opening, and they finally parted to admit Vancha. Vancha greeted the others with a grin and a tired wave as he strode up the aisle. And as promised, Darius was with him. Trailing a few feet behind and staring around the vast, strange room. The thing that stuck out the most was the fact that it was anger clouding his small face, not fear or confusion.

Darren inhaled shakily, and didn't wait for them to reach the throne platform. Trancelike, he walked down the aisle towards his nephew. He exchanged a nod with Vancha but didn't pause to chat. Darren slowly knelt to the floor on one knee in front of Darius, eye level with the sullen child. If Mika made the effort to hone in on it, he probably could've made out the quiet words Darren was murmuring to his nephew. But he respected Darren far too much to eavesdrop, so instead he focused on his purple-clad colleague as he made his way back up to the throne platform.

"What, no welcome party?" Said Vancha as he drew even with the others.

"You're the one who's supposed to be supplying the fanfare." Mika replied impatiently. "What's going on?"

Vancha slowly sat down on his throne and exhaled in relief as he ran his hands through his hair - as green and crunchy as ever.

"Well?!" Arrow pressed.

At last, Vancha's red face split into a wide, toothy grin.

"Good news on all fronts." He announced. "To make a long story short, we're officially embarking on the journey towards true peace."

His words were met with scattered cheers and applause from the others.

"Although our cousins do not have a leadership hierarchy as we do, Gannen Harst and Shane Astor have a lot of sway." He continued. "Those who supported the Vampaneze Lord automatically looked to Gannen after the Lord fell. And those who quietly opposed Lord have been toasting Shane's name. Both Gannen and Shane have agreed to serve as diplomats between both clans. Counterparts to myself and Kurda."

"Kurda is not pardoned yet." Larten spoke up, clearly unable to contain himself. Some things never change.

"That may be so." Vancha said calmly, meeting Larten's shrewd gaze. "But Kurda also has decades worth of rapport with the vampaneze. Although his actions at our last council caused him to lose some favour, he still has more respect among them than the average vampire would. So, my dear friend, I suggest you keep Kurda's name out of your mouth unless you have something productive to offer."

Leaving Larten to absorb that, Vancha looked to Kurda.

"I trust you did the homework I assigned you before we parted ways?" Vancha asked, still smiling.

"The united clan law proposals are ready when you are, Sire March." Kurda replied with a respectful nod. And he spoke with the quiet confidence Mika had always admired, but didn't think he'd ever hear again.

"We've reviewed Kurda's drafts - Mika, Darren, and I. They're excellent." Arrow added bluntly, surprising everyone. "So if the vampaneze clan agrees, that'll seal the deal once and for all."

"That's where it gets complicated. The vampaneze clan as a whole will never agree." Said Vancha. "Nor will the vampires, as you well know. But unlike the vampaneze, the vampires ultimately have to do what we tell them to. The vampaneze do not have a rank system to enforce formal legislature."

"I'd wondered about that. So where does that leave the treaty?" Mika asked seriously.

Vancha smiled again, a familiar gleam illuminating his rough, battle-scarred face.

"They're taking a page out of our books." He replied. "Taking steps towards introducing some semblance of leadership-"

"Are there going to be Vampaneze Princes?!" Arrow blurted out, eyes widening in disbelief. But Vancha quickly shook his head.

"No, no. They will never take hierarchy to the extent that we do. In fact, their prospective leaders won't even wield true authority. Instead of Princes and Generals, they will have Elders. Vampaneze of excellent standing, who have earned the respect of their peers. Gannen and Shane are stepping up as the first, and there will be two more. Four Vampire Princes, four Vampaneze Elders to cohesively guide their respective clans in a new direction."

"So these Elders will politely suggest that their friends adhere to our peace terms, and hope they listen?" Said Mika, arching an eyebrow critically. Vancha let out a raucous boom of laughter.

"A crude interpretation, but you're not entirely wrong." Vancha admitted once his moment of mirth had passed.

"Actually, the Elder system will yield much more success than if they were to suddenly implement an equivalent of Princes. A measure that extreme would tear their clan apart from the inside out." Kurda contributed carefully, glancing back and forth between the others. "The vampaneze hold honour and respect at an even higher value than we do. Any vampaneze will at least listen to a clan-mate if they respect them, even if they don't agree. It's not a perfect solution, but I believe it's the best compromise we could possibly ask for under the circumstances."

"Well said, Mr. Smahlt." Said Vancha with a triumphant grin. "I, for one, am damn grateful you found your way back to us."

"I'm damn grateful Darren kept the raging mob from tearing me apart with torches and pitchforks the second I set foot back in this mountain." Kurda replied. His tone was light and joking, but there was a grim undertone both in his voice and on his face.

Vancha stayed silent for a moment, surveying Kurda thoughtfully.

"Even at the height of your popularity, you were still a controversial figure." Vancha sighed at last. "I suppose we may as well brace ourselves for a bit of pushback when we tell the clan we're pardoning you."

"With all due respect, Sire March, I don't feel it's our place to come out with a public announcement that the Princes have pardoned me behind closed doors." Said Kurda.

"Do you not want to be pardoned? Do you not feel you deserve it?" Vancha asked, frowning dubiously.

"A pardon implies my wrongs are forgivable, and I'd never ask for forgiveness. Nor do I expect my honour to simply be automatically restored because the Princes willed it to be so." Kurda continued steadily. "More than ever, I want to be part of the peace movement. But for that to be successful, I need the clan's trust in me to be authentic. You can order them to listen to me, but you can't force them to trust me. I have to earn that. So rather than a pardon, I ask for an opportunity."

"You've already earned my trust." Said Vancha. "You speak with as much wisdom as any Prince I've ever known."

"From the bottom of my heart, Sire March, I thank you for the faith you've had in me." Said Kurda. His voice cracked a little but he held strong. "Now, in order to proceed with a clear conscience, I humbly ask the Princes to gather the Generals to vote on my fate. Not to pardon me, but to rescind my exile sentence so I may serve the clan alongside them again."

Vancha kept his eyes on Kurda for a few seconds more, nodding contemplatively. Then he looked to both Mika and Arrow in turn.

"Do either of you object?" Vancha asked seriously.

"We're all on the same page." Said Mika. "We had a lot of time to discuss everything while we waited for you to get back. You took your damn time."

"Darren too?" Said Vancha, glancing at Larten.

"Darren was also in agreement." Said Larten rather stiffly. "And for what it is worth, so am I. I do not have to like Smahlt in order to accept the need for peace."

"Oh, thank the gods. Quicksilver approves." Mika remarked. Vancha and Arrow both snorted at the sarcastic rebuttal, but Kurda fixed him with a strange, serious look that shook Mika to the core, and he suddenly knew what Kurda was about to say before he even said it.

"Mika, you'd do well to remember that regardless of intent, my actions caused Larten as much pain as they caused you. His civility is more than I deserve. You may recall I criticized Larten earlier. And you were right - it wasn't my place to speak so righteously. Now I urge you to heed your own advice." Kurda's tone wasn't outright challenging, but there was an unmistakable gravity to it. Mika instantly felt his face burn with regret at his thoughtless words.

Who did Mika love, above all else in the universe? Kurda and Gracie, of course. Complicated as it was, they were both safe. Both home. Who was Larten's equivalent of that, aside from Darren? Gavner Purl and Arra Sails. Both dead. Both gone. As far as the grief game went, Larten had been running circles around Mika since day one.

Mika exhaled slowly, and faced Larten.

"Kurda's right. Your support means something to me, and I'm sorry I dismissed you. It was callous and I know better. Please accept my apology."

Larten cracked a thin smile.

"If I may quote you directly, Sire Ver Leth: The best thing we can do right now is present a united front to the rest of the clan, even if we have to fake it."

"Not faking this one." Mika countered firmly, shaking his head. "I respect you as much now as I did all those years ago when I voted in favour of your investiture. And if we want a chance at achieving peace between clans, power and mind games aren't enough. Kurda's right. It has to be authentic. And that starts with us."

"Did you fall and hit your head while I was gone?" Vancha asked seriously, scratching his head and grinning bemusedly at Mika. "I thought you lived and breathed power and mind games."

"I've had two major concussions this year alone, actually." Said Mika offhandedly. "But I promise I'm thinking more clearly than I have in a long time."

"So we gather the Generals, then? Put it to a final vote?" Said Vancha, glancing around at the others.

"Almost half of them are already here, and the other half are on the move." Said Arrow. "They have been returning in droves since news broke of the Vampaneze Lord's fall."

"Are you sure you want it to go to a vote? You don't have to go that far." Said Mika. His voice dropped in volume as he solely addressed Kurda. Their eyes locked, and for a moment the rest of the room faded away.

KS: It's the right thing to do. You know it is.

MVL: I don't have to like it.

"He has a point, Kurda. You're not very useful to us if they vote you back into exile." Vancha's baritone interrupted their invisible reprieve. "You only need our approval, and you have it."

"I know." Said Kurda, eyes blazing with weary resolve. "That's why it has to be a vote. That's my final answer."

"Then it's decided." Said Arrow. "We summon the rest of the Generals to Vampire Mountain, and hold the trial as soon as they arrive."

"And when, not if the Generals vote in favour of accepting Kurda back into the fray…" said Vancha fiercely. "…I will send an envoy to Gannen. If none of you object, I wish to invite the Vampaneze Elders to Vampire Mountain to discuss the treaty in person, as a show of good faith."

"Are you trying to give Arrow a coronary? Because that's how you give Arrow a coronary." Said Mika, with a sidelong glance at his best friend who'd inhaled sharply and tensed at Vancha's suggestion.

"If it's fine with all of you, it's fine with me." Said Arrow robotically, not fooling anyone.

"You don't look fine." Mika remarked.

"Fine might be the wrong word." Arrow replied through gritted teeth. "But my duty is to place the good of the clan before my own emotions. And in my heart I know we're heading in the right direction. So consider me fine with it, whether it's true or not."

"Your strength and wisdom is honourable, brother." Said Vancha seriously. "He took that better than I thought." He added in a stage whisper as he shot a wayward glance at Mika. Arrow rolled his eyes, but smiled weakly.

"Arrow and I actually made a lot of progress working on our personal issues while you were out gallivanting through the wilderness." Said Mika matter-of-factly.

"Thank the gods for that!" Vancha chuckled. "So we agree on our game plan, then? Hold Kurda's trial as soon as the Generals can gather. And once his future with the clan is secure, we meet with the Vampaneze Elders. Then the real work begins."

"Deal. Time to put this war behind us forever." Said Mika.

"I'm with you, Sire March." Kurda affirmed. A soft but undeniable fire blazed in his ocean eyes.

"I'm in." Said Arrow. He still looked a little dazed. The prospect of true peace with the vampaneze was not something he'd ever process quickly or easily. But he was putting in genuine effort, and Mika thought that was worth something.

MVL: Proud of you.

A: I need a drink.

MVL: Right there with you, always.

"Excellent work, gentlemen." Larten added with a brittle smile. "And I am certain Darren will agree."

"I'll catch up with Darren later and relay our discussion to him." Said Vancha, nodding. "Right now his focus is on his nephew. And given the circumstances of the boy's arrival, I don't blame Darren one bit."

Vancha's words were met with an awkward silence, which Mika broke after glancing around expectantly.

"Really? No one else is going to ask? Fine. I will. Vancha, do you care to elaborate on what the fuck happened there? That kid barely looked old enough to cross the street, much less join either clan."

"You met the boy's father. Are you really surprised?" Kurda commented drily.

"Well, when you put it that way…" said Mika with a grimace. "What's next? I can't imagine Darren letting the kid go back to his father after all that."

"It's out of my hands. I can only interfere so much." Said Vancha, suddenly looking bitter. "Leonard blooded his son out of ego, and the boy couldn't stay where he was. He has no concept of what vampanizm is, and no control over his enhanced strength. Through no fault of his own, he was a danger to the humans around him - including his own mother. I feel being around Darren is the healthiest thing for Darius right now, but Leonard did a hell of a job poisoning his mind against our clan."

"Speaking of Leonard…" Larten growled. "Vancha, what were you thinking, having him brought back here?"

Vancha's face clouded over so dangerously that Larten took a step backwards.

"As I'm sure Darren had already told you repeatedly, Leonard's life was part of my brother's peace terms. We wouldn't have Gannen's support unless we kept Leonard alive." Vancha replied stiffly.

"But why, though?" Mika interjected. "I've met the half-blood brat twice now, and honestly I don't see the appeal. Are we just going to let Gannen walk out of here with him once the treaty is signed?"

"I trust my brother completely." Said Vancha after a loaded pause. "And I hope the rest of you trust him even half as much as you trust me."

But I got smarter, I got harder in the nick of time

Honey, I rose up from the dead, I do it all the time

MEANWHILE, IN THE HALL OF KHLEDON LURT:

"What's this?"

It was the longest sentence Darius had spoken since he'd arrived.

"It's bat broth. I know the food probably isn't as good as you're used to. But I promise it tastes better than it looks." Said Darren with a halfhearted chuckle, sitting beside him. Darius shrugged and glared as Darren gently nudged the bowl towards him.

So far the boy had barely looked at Darren, hadn't smiled, and gave monosyllabic responses to every question asked. Darren didn't exactly blame him, but he could tell the kid was weak from lack of blood. And Darren remembered all too well how difficult it was to start drinking all those years ago. So he decided not to push the issue quite yet. He'd start with food, and bring up blood later on when Darius opened up a little more.

Darius hadn't been blooded for very long. Steve did it several weeks before the battle in the Cavern of Retribution; Darren was able to get that much information from Darius at least. But what Darren wanted to know (and he knew Darius wouldn't have the answer) was why? It didn't exactly seem like Steve and Darius were close. He strongly doubted Darius asked to join the clan. A thousand questions swirled in Darren's mind and it took all of his tenuous impulse control not to spit them out rapid-fire. But he knew how counterproductive that would be, so he held his tongue and allowed the child to simply exist in this space.

Gracie and Harkat sat a few tables away, keeping silent solidarity with Darren as he worked through whatever the hell this was. They kept a respectful distance, but shot Darren curious looks every now and then.

"Where's my dad?" Darius snapped out of nowhere. "That man Vancha said he was here, that you locked him up."

Darren didn't know a hell of a lot about children, but he did see that question coming from a mile away.

"Let's get you settled in first. Then we can discuss it." Darren offered. Truthfully, he didn't want Darius anywhere near Steve. But he also knew a hard "no" would only water the seeds of resentment Steve had already planted in his son's mind. Resentment towards vampires, and towards Darren himself.

"I don't want to settle in! I want to talk to my dad!"

"Darius, there's a lot about your dad I need to explain to you." Darren countered wearily. "For right now, can you please just try to eat something? You'll feel better when you do."

"You don't know anything about him! You betrayed him to go join the vampires! You don't care about him, or me!"

"That's not true." Darren choked out. "It's complicated-"

His words died on his throat as Darius stood up abruptly and glared down at Darren with way more ferocity than a kid that age should've been capable of.

"I don't want to be here!" Darius yelled. "I want to see my dad! I want him to take me home to my mom!"

The words flew from his lips as a snarl, but broke to a whimper somewhere along the last three words. Darren exhaled slowly, trying to steady himself. Nothing could've prepared him for this. Once the new treaty had been finalized by the Princes and Elders, Darren would uphold his end of the bargain and permit Gannen to take Steve back. But where did Darius factor into that? Darren felt sick to his stomach at the idea of Steve being in the same city as Annie and Darius, much less present in their lives.

And there was no easy way to explain that to a terrified child whose comprehension of this situation barely covered the tip of the iceberg. Darren wanted so badly to talk to his sister, but she wasn't in the mountain. Darius was.

Darius looked on the verge of tears now. And Darren felt completely shattered inside.

He heard someone approach on his left side, momentarily pulling his focus from his nephew. It was Gracie, with Harkat close behind.

"Hey, Darren. Did you still want to run sword drills this afternoon?" Gracie asked, with such casualness Darren momentarily wondered if she was having a stroke. Because how could she not notice he had his hands full?!

"I'm kind of in the middle of something." He replied through gritted teeth, shooting her a barbed glance.

"I reserved our favourite practice station." She pressed, arching an eyebrow. "It's only free for another hour, then the General prospects have it for the rest of the night."

Darren glared at her, to which she sighed in exasperation as if, for the second time today, she was struggling to process how astonishingly stupid Darren was being.

"What are sword drills?" Darius asked her shrewdly, narrowing his eyes as he switched his attention from Darren to Gracie. He was aloof as ever, but there was a spark of interest in his eyes.

Oh. So that was Gracie's game plan. Darren caught on belatedly, also for the second time today. He glanced apologetically at her, and wished they were both fully blooded so he could convey the thought through telepathy. But she was busy observing Darius.

"You probably wouldn't be interested, you're a little young." Said Gracie. "It's a lot of repetition and attention to detail. But it's the first step to learning how to handle a real blade."

"I want to learn!" Said Darius, determination blazing in his eyes. "Show me."

Gracie smiled placidly at him.

"I'm still learning myself. But your uncle's been at it longer than I have. He's no expert, but he knows enough to get you started."

Darius took a minute to think about that. He stared long and hard at Gracie, who held his gaze non-threateningly. Then Darius looked back to Darren. His face had softened, and finally he looked almost like the innocent little kid he was.

"Can… can we go?" Darius asked cautiously.

"You want to learn from me?" Said Darren.

Darius shrugged noncommittally, unable to meet Darren's eyes.

"My dad tried to teach me to fight, but I wasn't very good. Is that why he hardly ever visited me?"

"No, I don't think that was why. Not even a little bit. But if you finish half that bowl of bat broth, I'll show you a few things." Darren offered wearily.

A deal had been struck.

And it worked. Darius earnestly ate as much as he could, then they headed down to the sporting hall. Darren walked him through the basics, and they began to gently spar together. By the time Darren took a break, he no longer felt like he was talking to a brick wall. Darius was nowhere near ready to pour his heart out to his uncle, but he did open up just enough for Darren to learn that he'd been struggling terribly since he'd been blooded. He'd been expelled from school after accidentally injuring several classmates. And even worse, when his mother - Annie - tried to comfort him, he accidentally broke her nose. Darren's stomach clenched at the thought of it, but he remained calm as he assured Darius it wasn't his fault. He went on to share his own story of how his own academic career was cut short when he realized he'd never be able to control his new powers on his own. Finally, there was common ground between them.

"This was an amazing idea. Since when have you had a shred of maternal instinct?" Darren asked Gracie about an hour later as they sat on a bench watching Darius practice a drill on his own (using a wooden staff and a dummy, because safety first).

"Since never." She snorted derisively. "I was specializing in family law until my recent career change. I dealt with a lot of foster situations - this is close enough. You were trying to do the right thing by letting him settle in slowly, but it wasn't working for him. Sometimes you have to meet them halfway."

"Well, I appreciate it." Said Darren, smiling for the first time that day. "And if you ever want my help with sword drills, just say the word."

"That's generous of you, but I'll stick to training with my dad. He says your technique is just okay."

"Of course he does." Said Darren, rolling his eyes.

"It's not your fault. You haven't exactly had time to train properly." Gracie added reasonably. "They pretty much threw you into a throne, and then the war started. Once everything settles down you'll be able to start training more seriously."

"That's what I was planning on, until today." Darren groaned. "I don't know what I'm going to do about this -" he gestured at Darius "-but I do know I can't just hand him back over to Steve. He should be with his mom, but he's not safe in the human world til he learns to control his strength. I want him to stay here, at least for a while."

"Does that mean you're going to take custody and go by Uncle-Dad?"

"Call me Uncle-Dad one more time. I dare you."

"I'm sure I will. Not today, though. You look pretty rough."

Darren rolled his eyes and elbowed her lightly.

"Thanks for the support."

"I'm not great at comforting people. I took after the wrong dad for that." She admitted. "But I've got your back, Darren. You and I stick together. That's how this works."

"In case I haven't said it yet, I'm glad you joined the clan." Said Darren, smiling back.

"Glad to be here, Sire Sha- nope. Sorry. Can't say it with a straight face."

"It's fine. You have centuries to practice."

They watched Darius for several minutes more. Then Darren glanced sideways and cautiously ventured:

"Gracie, I really hate to ask-"

"No."

"I haven't even told you what it is yet!"

"You want me to keep the kid occupied while you go down to the dungeon and have a chat with your old friend."

"…Please?"

"Fine. Just this one time. And you owe me."

"You're the best. I'll be back in an hour."

I've got a list of names and yours is in red, underlined

I check it once, then I check it twice, oh!

24 HOURS LATER

"It's okay, Ren. Slow down. Take a deep breath. You have all the time in the world, I'm not going anywhere." Mika murmured. Then added offhandedly, "For the next twenty minutes, anyway. Then I have a meeting to get to and you're on your own."

Mika hoped that would get a laugh out of Renley, but it didn't. Renley ran his hands over his face and through his hair, eyes clenched shut and forehead creased with the stress. Ever since he regained consciousness several hours prior, he'd been desperately trying to remember the events that lead to someone trying (unsuccessfully) to cave his skull in. Mika ran his hand over Renley's shoulders, hoping the gentle touch would coax him into relaxing a little. Maybe then his brain would unlock the piece it hid away in the moment of blunt-force trauma.

"Alright…" Renley croaked out as he opened his eyes remorsefully to look up at Mika. "I started my day in the Hall of Rush Flon'x helping Vanez grade the future Generals. Then I tutored Ryah Ali on hand-to-hand combat for two hours. Then I met with a returning strike team to update them. Then I went to take a bath. And… and that's all I remember. It's all just a black hole."

"Did anyone follow you to the Hall of Perta Vin-Grahl?" Mika pressed. "Did you see anyone on your way down?"

"No."

"And you're sure nobody else was in there with you?"

"Clearly there was at one point!" Renley exploded suddenly, face reddening. "I didn't just bash myself in the head for attention! If I knew who attacked me, or why, I'd fucking tell you!"

"I know." Mika sighed. "I'm sorry. Just rest now. It'll come back to you. I'm just glad you're okay."

Mika resumed the slow circles his hand had been tracing across Renley's broad shoulders. The blazing sensuality that once simmered between them was gone. But their months of casual intimacy had left behind an enduring bond that neither could've predicted. Mika hadn't been lying when he told Renley that in another life, it would've been him.

Renley was shaking his head anxiously at Mika's effort to reassure him. There was a plaintive unease in his deep mahogany eyes that dented Mika's recently regained inner peace.

"There's something more to this." Said Renley. "I can't explain it. But I know we're missing something." He clutched Mika's steadier hand in his trembling one, and Mika squeezed it firmly.

"You have a concussion." Said Mika. Suddenly he couldn't shake the feeling that he was trying to reassure himself more so than Renley. "Just lie down and stay still so your head can heal itself. Listen to the medics."

"Listen to the medics? That's hilarious coming from you." Renley snorted. He was trying to sound casual but there were tears in his eyes and a hitch in his voice as he began to crack.

Mika really hated the fact that Renley had seen him cry. Blame it on fragile ego or internalized toxic masculinity, it doesn't really matter. Because as much as Mika hated being on that side of it, he hated this side more - bearing witness to someone else's distress and being powerless to help was excruciating.

"You'll remember, Ren." Said Mika in an undertone as he hugged Renley's trembling body. "It'll come back. Give it time."

"Why are you even here?" Renley choked out. And out of nowhere his voice had become tinged with hostility. "Shouldn't you be with Kurda?"

Mika stiffened, and withdrew from the embrace.

"I'm here because you stayed by my side through some of the darkest days of my life." He replied warily. "Surely you didn't lose those memories too. I owe you-"

"You don't owe me anything! I don't want your pity! Gods, haven't you put me through enough?"

"I'm sorry-"

"Just get out."

Ooh, look what you made me do

Look what you made me do

Look what you just made me do

Look what you just made me

"About time you came to visit." Steve sneered at Jakob Wiles as he slipped into the dungeon late that night. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about our friendship."

"I've been a little busy." Jakob replied, his voice a strained rasp.

"Don't neglect me that long next time. The only visitor I had yesterday was Darren! He was in here for a good hour going on and on about how irresponsible I was to blood my own son, who he didn't even know existed until last week. Please."

"Shan has been spending a lot of time with the boy. I can't imagine he'll turn him back over to you eagerly." Jakob replied.

"Leave my family dysfunction to me." Steve growled. "Have you finished off that stupid General yet? Next time you try to kill someone to keep my secret, you'd better make damn sure they're actually dead. You're lucky good help is hard to find, otherwise I'd fire you for that little fuck-up."

"I've been checking the infirmary hoping to find him unattended, but the place is always crawling with medics and guards. Unfortunately Mika's not stupid enough to brush his attack off as an accident." Said Jakob resentfully.

Steve let out a low grunt of frustration as he glared up at his unlikely ally.

"The other bad news is Azerion woke up earlier tonight." Jakob added.

"You'd better be fucking joking, Wiles, or I swear to every god-"

"But the good news is he has no memories of any of it." Jakob interrupted. Steve's face darkened dangerously.

"If you see an opportunity to take him out without witnesses, do it. Otherwise we won't worry about it unless it becomes a problem." Steve snapped. "Now enough about that pathetic, clan-bound parasite. How soon can you get my son in here? Doesn't sound like Sire Shan is going to authorize visitation privileges."

"During Kurda Smahlt's trial tomorrow." Jakob replied without hesitation. His face cracked into a vicious smile. "The entire mountain will be occupied, especially the Princes. Only exception is the minimum guards required to be outside the Hall. And I've been promoted to oversee all of them. There won't be a problem."

"Hmm. Well done, vampire. Your loyalty will pay off very soon."

Jakob rolled his eyes.

"It damn well better, My Lord."

Ooh, look what you made me do

Look what you made me do

Look what you just made me do

Look what you just made me

With less than eight hours left before his make-or-break trial, Kurda found himself adrift and anchorless. He didn't feel afraid exactly, but the thought of sitting alone in the dark til the rest of the mountain woke up still felt a little toxic. So he walked, and his feet guided him to the one place that still felt safe.

Mika opened the door within seconds of Kurda knocking, greeting him with a weary smile.

"It's not like I was going to get any sleep tonight anyway." Said Mika, immediately confirming what Kurda already knew. "Come on in. Want a drink? Bar's fully stocked."

"How about that ice wine I always liked?" Kurda replied as he made his way over. Mika grimaced, but laughed.

"Gross. Anything but that."

"Fine. Whiskey, then."

"Wow. Exile changed you." Said Mika, raising an eyebrow as he reached for the bottle. "But can you drink it with a straight face?"

"That part's still a work in progress." Kurda admitted as he sat on Mika's desk. He'd used the piece of luxury furniture as his own personal seat a few hundred times over their years together. Sometimes with clothes on, other times without. Mika abandoned his chair in favour of climbing up beside Kurda, and handed him a glass of the brown liquor.

They clinked their glasses together without exchanging a word, and drank in silence for several minutes.

"You ready for tomorrow?" Mika asked at last.

"Honestly? Yes." Said Kurda. He smiled, but Mika's face remained impassive.

"Can't relate, but good for you." Said Mika bitterly, taking another long drink.

"We're doing the right thing." Kurda reasoned. "And I'll remind you as many times as you need."

"I'm going to have to be completely neutral during the trial." Said Mika. "You understand that, right? Our history has become clan history. We can't give them a reason to believe I'm giving you preferential treatment."

"I get it." Kurda murmured. "I've played all the political games too, remember? I can take it. It'll be fine."

"Remember how tight the margin was on your investiture vote?" Mika remarked after a moment, his voice catching in his throat.

"Fifty-four percent. I'll never forget."

"Well, I think this one will be tighter."

Silence. Kurda waited til he got to the bottom of his glass, then he broached the topic.

"Mika?"

"Mmhm?"

"You aren't giving me preferential treatment, right?"

Mika laughed softly and turned so he could see Kurda clearly.

"Kurda, this is literally the first time in my life I'm looking at you without bias. Remember how hard we used to clash, before Gracie? I didn't care how good your ideas were - I just wrote you off because you were so different from the rest of us. And then the tables turned the other direction when I fell for you. I told myself I wasn't biased then, but I was lying to myself. "

"I remember." Kurda laughed softly. "Falling in love was a hell of a learning curve for you, wasn't it?"

"To say the least." Mika snorted. "Thanks to you, I've now experienced the full spectrum of emotion and then some. So I can finally see it for what it is."

"And what is it?"

"That you don't have to be a Prince to be a better leader than I ever was. And it's about time we got out of your way."

Kurda exhaled the tension from his body, and his head slowly came to rest on Mika's shoulder.

"I never wanted you out of my way, Mika. I only ever wanted you beside me."

"I can do that too."

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

Somehow the Hall of Princes felt even fuller than it did at Kurda's first trial. He knew it wasn't actually the case, but he still felt like the walls were closing in on him.

Kurda hadn't been lying when he told Mika he was ready for this. But he still felt his throat constrict as he stood before the Princes like he had seven years ago. At least this time he wasn't in chains.

"Respected Generals of the vampire clan! On behalf of Sires Ver Leth, Arrow, and Shan, I thank you for gathering here today." Vancha's voice boomed across the hall, silencing what had been a steady buzz of chatter.

"We also understand that tensions are running high. But we ask - no, weorder that you conduct yourselves with decorum." Mika added. "Failure to comply will result in your expulsion from the Hall, and loss of voting privileges."

"What is there to vote on? Once a traitor, always a traitor!" A furious roar came from the back. That didn't take long.

Mika rolled his eyes, and with one deft hand signal to the guards, the offending General was hauled forcibly from the room.

"Anyone else want to test me today?" Mika addressed the Hall at large. He was met with silence. "No? Alright then. Moving on!"

"If I may speak for my fellow Princes, I want to be very clear about the reason we're holding this trial." Darren spoke up, his voice steady but determined. "This is not meant to be a review of the events of last council. Every last vampire on this earth knows what happened. And seven years later, every last vampire knows what the War of the Scars cost us."

"Sire Shan speaks with wisdom beyond his years. My views on the vampaneze clan have never been a secret. So I hope each and every one of you believe me when I tell you that after much deliberation, I can assure you that Kurda Smahlt's presence in Vampire Mountain does not pose a threat. Whichever way you choose to vote, know that much at least." Arrow added. Even when he didn't speak loudly, his voice still had a way of projecting around the entire room.

The crowd muttered, but no one objected. The four Princes nodded amongst each other, and to Kurda.

Kurda closed his eyes. One last private escape before everything changed, one way or the other.

Inhale.

Exhale.

"Let us begin!" Vancha barked. "Kurda Smahlt, seven years ago you left this mountain under a very strict exile sentence, agreed upon by Sires Arrow, Skyle, and Ver Leth. The terms were simple and absolute; you were to isolate yourself from both clans entirely, and not to contact any vampire or vampaneze. Excluding your recent intervention, did you adhere to these terms?"

"I did." Said Kurda steadily. "In the seven years leading up to the fall of the Vampaneze Lord, I did not seek out anyone from either clan. I was visited by Sires March and Ver Leth on separate occasions last year. Then several weeks ago my daughter, Grace Smahlt-Ver Leth, was attacked by vampaneze. Sire Ver Leth summoned me immediately, and I flitted to the scene of the attack. That night I saw one other vampire, General Renley Azerion, as well as the six vampaneze we thwarted from taking control of the Stone of Blood. I did not initiate any of these encounters myself. I am still a vampire, required to do what the Princes ask of me. Therefore I feel I upheld my end of the agreement."

"Regarding my meeting with Kurda, I can confirm to the audience that he is telling the truth." Vancha declared. "I wished to have a conversation with him regarding Desmond Tiny, so I sought him out - not the other way around. Therefore my meeting with him was not in violation. Sire Ver Leth, can you confirm the same?"

"Correct." Said Mika calmly. Cool-headed as ever. "The first time I saw Kurda was six years after council. I was delivering a letter from our daughter, who was still human at the time and therefore not bound by our laws. The second time was the attack Kurda described. And because he was there at my request, it does not go against our agreement. He will not be faulted for that."

"I agree. As Princes, Mika and Vancha were within their rights to contact Kurda as they did. And Kurda was within his rights to do what he did." Said Arrow. "Now, the gray area comes after the attack. Kurda, your next stop was a meeting with Lady Evanna, is that correct?"

"Indeed it is, Sire." Said Kurda. He turned his back on the Princes to face the crowd once again. His heart raced at the memory of what she revealed to him in that cave, but he didn't let it show in his voice.

"Did you consciously seek her out when you felt your daughter's attack left you with no choice but to run back into the fray?" Vancha asked in a low voice. "And you can be honest. Technically, Evanna is not a vampire or a vampaneze."

"Yes and no. I did not consciously seek Evanna out. All I knew was that I felt an undeniable pull, and I'd know what I was looking for when I found it. And then Evanna found me." Said Kurda.

"Evanna isn't a vampire! She has no right to reinstate a traitor on our behalf!" One of the Generals interjected angrily.

"She didn't reinstate me. To put it in the simplest terms, I spent seven years believing that I truly had nothing left to offer either clan." Kurda responded coolly. "My plan failed, and I left a trail of devastation behind me when I was exiled. I own that completely. It was easy to follow the no-contact rules. Why would I want to face anyone after that?" He paused to laugh bitterly. There was a murmur of slight discomfort from the crowd. "When the mighty Evanna told me I was wrong, that my job wasn't finished, I was as stunned as you all were when I showed up last week."

"So she helped you, then?" The General pressed, eyes narrowed. Kurda vaguely recognized him but couldn't put a name to the face. Although he was pretty sure he'd gotten into a heated debate with the man at least once over the decades. And he was far from the only one.

Kurda paused for breath, and continued.

"Let me be very clear, Evanna has never sided with one clan over the other, and this was no exception. She wanted to end the war and make peace. She saw an opportunity to use me, and confirming my survival invalidated Desmond Tiny's original prophecy. Evanna instructed me to seek out a vampaneze named Shane Astor, a rebel who was working to rally a group of his blood-brothers against their lord. Evanna was explicitly clear that I was not to tip off anyone about what I was doing."

"And in heeding Evanna's instructions, you went against ours. Technically, your first violation of your exile sentence occurred when you met with Astor." Arrow interjected.

"That is correct, Sire." Said Kurda.

"To be fair, this is Evanna we're talking about. Every last vampire on earth should be more afraid of her than you are of us." Said Vancha seriously. He gestured at the other Princes, then glancing pointedly at the audience. After a pause, Vancha continued: "Darren, Larten and myself were following the original prophecy that dictated the Vampaneze Lord had to die at the hands of one of us. If Kurda had warned us of his intentions any sooner, we would've had no choice but to stop him."

"Why even bother? We were incredibly lenient with your sentencing, all things considered." Arrow questioned.

"Why not? Worst case scenario was I would've died trying. It wouldn't have been any worse than living in exile." Kurda replied with a dark chuckle. "I would've been proud to go out fighting to restore peace. Least I could do at that point."

An uncomfortable murmur rippled through the crowd.

"Fair enough." Said Vancha airily. "Now, the Cavern of Retribution. Shane Astor and the Last Stand took orders from you in the effort to take the Vampaneze Lord down, correct?"

"The Last Stand only ever followed Shane." Kurda countered. "And perhaps 'follow' is too strong a word. As you all know, an honourable vampaneze follows no leader. The Last Stand was a group with a shared goal, and their decision to go rogue was not made lightly."

"How could they rebel against their Lord? I thought the vampaneze were bound to obey him unconditionally." A General called Tor Barclay spoke up. He sounded less combative than some of the other protestors, but severe nonetheless.

"That was what the prophecy decreed." Kurda responded calmly. "But in the case of the Last Stand, they felt their lord's regime was becoming more of a violation of the vampaneze honour code than their decision to turn against him. They took inspiration from their founding fathers: the original vampaneze who broke away from the vampire clan because they refused to fall in line with the Princes and Generals."

A murmur of assent from the crowd.

"So it's true, then? The Vampaneze Lord truly was defeated by his own?" Another General asked.

"Correct." Said Kurda.

"May I pose a question to Sires March and Shan?"

"You may." Said Darren.

"If you were following the original prophecy, why did you allow Kurda to interfere?"

"Can I take this one?" Vancha asked, glancing seriously at Darren.

"Of course." Darren grinned.

"Because it was only then he was able to tell me he was acting on Evanna's guidance. I know Evanna. And I trust Kurda - even more now than I did when I nominated him for investiture all those years ago." Said Vancha. There wasn't a trace of the typical wicked glimmer that usually lit up his dark eyes. He spoke so decisively that there could be no doubt he was speaking the truth.

"Is this how far our clan has fallen?" Snarled yet another General, Marlon Zales. "Look at him! Look at what he's done! First he led the vampaneze against us in an attempt to kill our Princes and sell the whole clan out! Then he led them against their own and killed their leader! Not to mention the half-vampaneze he brought back to the mountain! How do you know he's not plotting with the prisoner right under your noses?"

"Last I checked, we wanted the Vampaneze Lord dead. Am I wrong?" Vancha replied coolly.

"And the prisoner is here with my permission. He has nothing to do with Kurda." Darren added. "I can tell you for a fact the half-vampaneze in question would never cooperate with Kurda. He made it very clear he rejected the idea of peace."

Zales blushed faintly, but pressed on.

"My apologies, Sires. I am as relieved as anyone that the war has ended. But do you not see a pattern here? Smahlt claims he wants to make peace, yet every version of his endgame would end with him as the last man standing!"

"Not exactly, Marlon." Kurda replied through gritted teeth, managing a thin smile. "Coming out alive was the very last thing I expected."

"You've always had a way with words, Smahlt." Marlon snapped back. "You lied your way into an investiture, after all. Wouldn't put it past you to do it twice."

"Traitor! Kill the traitor!" Someone yelled from the back of the room.

Kurda closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep, steadying breath and reminded himself he knew this was coming. He was ready for it.

"Do you still not understand that when I planned my original betrayal, I was knowingly condemning myself to die a traitor? Has that still not sunk in after seven years? This entire clan has done nothing but overlook and belittle me for decades!" Kurda growled. "But despite all of that, I still saw something here worth saving. So what would have been the bigger betrayal? Sitting back and watching the original prophecy doom all of you, or destroying my entire life in a desperate attempt to give the clan a chance?!"

"I'd rather die than see you forgiven! Blood-traitor scum!"

Another signal to the guards, another seething Generals dragged from the Hall. Frustration wasn't a strong enough word for the scalding feeling rising up from the pits of Kurda's soul.

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

I don't trust nobody and nobody trusts me

I'll be the actress starring in your bad dreams

MEANWHILE IN THE DUNGEON:

"As promised. Here he is. I'll be back in half an hour to escort him back to his room before anyone knows he was gone."

"Thank you, Jakob."

"Dad?!"

"Oh god, Darius… is it really you? You look even stronger than last time I saw you. I'm so happy you're here."

"What's going on, Dad? Uncle Darren wouldn't bring me to visit you."

"Listen, we don't have much time. The traitor's trial won't take very long. My friend Jakob needs to get you back to your room before anyone finds out you came to see me without permission."

"Why did they lock you up? Uncle Darren will only tell me you put people in danger."

"He isn't wrong, but he'll never tell you the whole truth. None of these vampires will. Have they been treating you alright?"

"Yeah… I guess. This place is weird. And the food's really gross, but they all seem nice. Even Uncle Darren. He's teaching me to fight! And he said once this is all over he'll take me to see my mom."

"I was afraid of that. That's what he wants you to think, son. You can't trust him. You can't trust any of them."

"I can't?"

"Never trust a vampire. You think any of them want you here, knowing you're half-vampaneze? If Darren wasn't a Prince, they'd tear you to shreds! Just because of the blood that runs in your veins! No wonder they're so eager to re-blood you as a vampire."

"You know about that?"

"Of course I know! Darren came here yesterday to throw it in my face!"

"But… Uncle Darren told me I could stay a vampaneze if I wanted to. The clans are making peace now. Why does it matter if I'm half-vampaneze?"

"Darius, you have no idea what the future has in store for you. You're more powerful than you can possibly understand right now. You deserve the world. And I'm going to help you claim it."

"I don't want power! I want to go home and live with Mom again! Can't we just do that instead?"

"I know you're afraid. But you don't need to be. The Son of the Vampaneze Lord has nothing to fear."

"The son of… what?"

"Did I stutter, Darius?"

"Dad, are you Vampaneze Lord?!"

"I'm sorry I couldn't tell you before. It was a secret. And now it's our secret to keep together. But not for much longer - I promise."

"But the Vampaneze Lord died! Uncle Darren said he was pushed into a pit! I don't understand!"

"He was a decoy. A pretend Vampaneze Lord. I was safer that way. I need you to promise that you'll keep my secret. This is very important - if they find out, they'll kill us."

"…Both of us?"

"Yes. Now listen closely: my blood in your veins already gives you the power to command the vampaneze. But if your uncle bloods you, you'll be able to do what I can't - hold power over the vampire clan."

"You mean… if Uncle Darren blooded me, I'd be a Prince like him?"

"There's a little more to it than that, but you're catching on quickly! I see more of myself in you with every passing day. His blood combined with mine would give you power that no vampire or vampaneze has ever known."

"But what about the other Princes?"

"There's simply no place for any of them in the dynasty you and I will build together. Not to worry, they'll be eliminated swiftly."

"You'll kill them? Even Uncle Darren?"

"He's the one who was ready to kill me! Ah, I see he spared you of that little detail. Yes, when I was at my weakest down there in the cavern, he was about to sneak up on me and stab me in the chest. I couldn't even defend myself!"

"But how did you make it out alive?"

"My only hope was the picture of you I had in my pocket. I was afraid of what would happen if Darren found out about you, but I had no choice but to show him. I'm just grateful it worked. You saved my life, Darius. Now together, we're going to take control of both clans. Starting with Vampire Mountain."

I'm sorry

The old Kurda can't come to the phone right now

Why?

Oh!

Cause he's dead!

Kurda felt something inside him snap. Because after all the excruciating pain and loss that had occurred on both sides of this war, surely they couldn't still be this fucking ignorant.

"I'm not asking you to forgive me!" Kurda bellowed into the vast room as the belligerent General hurled a few more final obscenities before the door closed behind him. He saw red, and his fists balled at his side as all pretences of serenity evaporated. "I'm not asking you to trust me! And I'm definitely not asking you to like me! Vote me back into exile if it's what you truly believe I deserve! But for the love of the gods, look past your baseless, archaic prejudice for once in your lives!"

Silence. It's all fun and games til the pacifist loses his cool.

"I want every last one of you to remember that fear and hopelessness you've felt for the past seven years as you waged a war you didn't even understand. And know that it's going to happen again. And again. And again. And it's going to keep happening until there's nothing left of either clan." Kurda continued. His voice broke for a moment, but out of anger rather than fear or grief. "Because every life wasted on this blood feud, isn't a win for the other side. It's only a win for Desmond Tiny. I tried to save you once and I failed. Contrary to popular belief, I've never been as naive as you all think. My role in taking down the Vampaneze Lord isn't enough to save the clan. Now you have to save yourselves. If you let me, I'll help you. If you won't, I'll respect your decision. But if the clan ever does fall, don't let it be because you were too fucking stubborn to accept you were wrong!"

The silence that followed was deafening. Kurda turned back to face the Princes again, struggling to steady his breathing.

"My apologies, Sires. That outburst was unprofessional."

"I think you nailed it, personally." Said Vancha, winking. Then he glanced around at his fellow Princes. "Anyone have something to add?"

Kurda's eyes automatically shifted to Mika. He watched as Mika white-knuckled the armrests of his throne, just as he had at the first trial seven years ago. A tiny giveaway, unnoticeable to anyone but Kurda, that never failed to betray the inner turmoil he hid so well. Outwardly, he was as composed as ever. And for a moment Kurda was sure he'd hold his tongue.

Mika's gaze drifted around the room, slow and controlled. And finally, Mika's unreadable thunderstorm grey collided with Kurda's clear ocean turquoise.

MVL: My turn.

"Not that I owe anyone an explanation…" Mika addressed the crowd. His voice carried effortlessly despite the fact that he barely raised it. "…but I have no doubt in my mind that plenty of you are wondering if my history with Kurda is giving him an advantage here. And the only reason you're screaming in his face and not mine is because my privilege shields me from it. I understand your concern, but let me put the rumours to rest once and for all. If you don't believe me after this, that's on you."

Mika paused, steely eyes still scanning the room as though daring someone to speak up. When they didn't, he carried on:

"It's no secret Kurda's original betrayal cut me deeper than anyone else. If anyone should be questioning his motives, it's me. But today I proudly stand here before you in the company of my fellow Princes as I offer Kurda my sincerest gratitude for what he did for us. And I absolutely fucking guarantee you that my support isn't coming from a place of love. So you can call him a traitor til you're blue in the face. Hell, come at me if you're feeling brave. I can take it. Your accusations won't change the truth. And if, after all this, you're still this determined to oversimplify a situation out of sheer ignorance, nothing we say can help you now. The truth is that every single time Kurda was faced with an impossible choice, he put it all on the line for a clan who quite frankly didn't deserve it. Even after we took his crown away and dragged him out of this room in chains seven years ago, he was more worthy of Princehood than I could ever hope to be. Because I wouldn't have been strong enough to do what he did."

Mika said those words to Kurda once. Quietly, in a moment of weakness. Kurda never dreamed he'd hear them shouted across the Hall of Princes for the world to hear.

The reception that followed Mika's statement was a true indicator of how close this vote was going to be. After a moment of stunned silence, a large number of Generals stood up and applauded him vigorously. And what seemed to be an equal amount remained silent and sullen as they glared up at him. Kurda felt his stomach twist at the daggers in their eyes, but that pain didn't stand a chance against the way his heart swelled.. Because Mika never said anything unless he damn well meant it, and the whole clan knew that.

"Well said, brother." Said Arrow quietly. "We vote, then."

"If I may be so bold, Sires, I would like to ask your permission to cast a vote along with the Generals. I know it has been a very long time since I held the role myself, but I have very strong feelings about this matter." Larten spoke up abruptly.

Vancha glanced around at Mika, Arrow, and Darren in turn. They nodded, and Vancha turned back to Larten "We'll allow it."

Kurda felt a flicker of foreboding. The vote was going to be tight, and Larten knew that as well as anyone. And Kurda knew exactly how Larten felt about him. After all, Kurda still saw Gavner Purl bleeding out in his nightmares.

But that was out of Kurda's hands. Everything was.

"Alright. Vampire Generals, I speak directly to you now. All in favour of Kurda Smahlt leaving Vampire Mountain to resume his exile sentence?" Arrow shouted.

Kurda closed his eyes. A minute ticked by.

"All in favour of rescinding the exile sentence that was passed down last council?" Came Mika's voice. His tone was dead even. If he felt as dizzy as Kurda did, he gave nothing away.

Kurda kept his eyes closed, certain the whole room could hear his heart beating. Surely it had to be an hour that crept by, but in reality it had barely been three minutes when he heard the unmistakable sound of a balled-up fist hammering down on wood to mimic the sound of a gavel.

Look what you made me do

Look what you just made me do

Look what you just made me

"Case closed! He's back in!" Vancha boomed, the words exploding from him in the form of a triumphant laugh.

The half of the room that applauded was almost enough to drown out the shouts of outrage. Kurda opened his eyes and the world had never looked so bright. He felt his bones turn to jelly, and he was certain he would have sunk to the floor had he not been swarmed by a group of Generals eager to pat him on the back, to congratulate him, to thank him for his service to the clan. So he let them.

If this was years ago, he would've pushed through the crowd and ran to Mika, threw his arms around him, buried his face in his chest and probably cried a lot. Things were different now, and that just wasn't an option. But Kurda had already made peace with that. Because after everything that happened, Mika was standing beside the other Princes, smiling and applauding right along with them. And that was better than anything Kurda could've dreamed of. He caught Mika's eye and felt his heart crack open in the best possible way.

Finally the crowd around him dispersed as the Hall of Princes began to clear out. Kurda ascended the stairs to the throne platform where he was greeted with handshakes and rough pats on the back from all four Princes. The business-casual contact felt ironic and funny coming from Mika specifically, but Kurda was far too relieved to care.

"What happened to staying neutral?" Kurda choked out, grinning from ear to ear.

"I thought about it. But I decided I'd rather be right instead." Said Mika in an undertone, eyes gleaming.

"You always did like having the last word." Kurda smirked.

"And look what happened when you let me."

"How tight was the vote? I had my eyes closed."

Mika's face clouded over, and it was an extra second or two before he replied:

"Crepsley was the tiebreaker. Damn lucky we let him vote."

Larten was standing at a distance, and his body language stood out in stark contrast against that of the Princes. Kurda stepped away from the others, approaching Larten warily.

"Thank you for placing your faith in me, my friend." Kurda offered. "Believe me when I tell you - you won't regret it."

He could feel the chill radiating off Larten, and he accepted the very real possibility that whatever friendship they once had might be irreparable.

"Smahlt, believe me when I tell you: you could kill Desmond Tiny himself, and you would still be no friend of mine."

Look what you just made me do

---

OOOOOOOOOOOOFFFFFF.

I've literally been waiting to use the "old Kurda can't come to the phone right now" line since 2017 let me have this.

I'm so sorry that was so long, guys. There's just so much going on here. Sometimes I love the challenge and other times I want to rip my hair out over it. It varies from hour to hour but I am planning on capping this at 30 chapters. Also I'm sorry I wrote Darius so badly lmao writing kids is HARD.

I don't think the next update will take as long as this one did, but you never know.

At this point I'm becoming increasingly anxious about losing momentum after how long I've dragged this story out. I'm trying my best but I feel like I'm floundering a bit. If anyone out there is still invested, it would mean the world to me if you left a comment or something. Trust me when I say I take absolutely no crumb of feedback for granted. I pour my heart and soul into this niche, and the CDF fandom is very small and very old. I feel so much better when I get a reminder that I'm not just screaming into the void here.

As always, thanks for being here with me. Stay well.

- Roxy