Derniere danse, Baudelaire

by Johnnyjon616

Chapters 1-4.

BAUDELAIRE

by JCL

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Prologue.

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The world was once dark, imbalanced.. slights of humanity.

During this age became the infancy of morality.

Light through the cracks.. eclipsing the horizon in a fight for good versus evil.

The Crusade Wars, these dark ages of feudal savagery, lasting just over 500 years,

have left behind regions of the world, struggling to find their way,

in the wake of it's ashes.

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Entire civilizations up rooted, molded anew.

By outright defeat, or retreating into exile.

While power was merely passed along to the next in line,

assumed by way of proxy through the generations.

Corruption assumed it's spoils of war.

Blurring the lines of what's been written,

or burning it entirely.

Driving a wedge between the populace,

the regions grew further apart, disconnected from each other's culture.

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The war torn Southern reaches, isolated in time.

Still in ruins, fighting uphill for even common essentials.

While the central lands of Freeport, and Capital City,

flourished in their ill-gotten gains, burying hoards in their coffers,

building high walls to seal themselves in.

Deciding to make their own truths and fictions,

of what happened during the world wide culling.

Gaining allegiances from the smaller houses, spread out through the East,

using deceit, and the power of popularity.

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Life moved on in fast pace.

Left behind the old ways of lawless savagery,

racing to adopt this new ideal.. of a civilized world.

Full of luxurious refinement, lavish communities,

with citizens thriving from all backgrounds, free to pursue their dreams.

And over generations passing by complacent, forgetting..

the thrones of deceit it's been built upon.

Capital City engorged itself in it's own splendor,

the teeming masses from all corners pleading to be citizens.

Spanning out miles over the decades, growing it's borders ten-fold,

to become the beacon of the civilized world.

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However the Northern reaches, are an entirely different matter.

Even a whisper of it's history, the denizens remaining..

is met with staunch denial, and glares of trepidation.

King's and their supporting allies, far too powerful,

to give up control so easily.. and bend the knee to a newly appointed whelp,

sitting on his safe golden throne, without earning it.

Mercenaries, elite warriors and their supporting houses,

even supernatural remnants from the Crusades,

all choosing a different way of life.

To be left alone. Showing nil interest in the new world's,

shallow politics and all seeing eye, a hand out for contribution at every turn.

The northern allies are united, and they wanted no part of it.

Bringing swift justice to those encroaching on their borders.

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Protected by the northern climate, and mountainous terrain,

advances on the north throughout the years, have been entirely disastrous.

Warfare atop steep crags in freezing conditions..

with nooks and caves hiding in the peaks, giving a distinct advantage to those born their.

Narrow valleys through the flats, creating bottle-necks for ambush,

the central armies retreated. Deemed to arduous a task to gain 'influence',

over the north.

Having no clear understanding, not even a plotted map..

of what powerful denizens remain in the north,

there is only speculation. From curious treasure hunters,

and adventurers seeking glory.. soldiers telling old war stories,

leading to a stream of constant sightings, and fables,

pulp fiction to the rest of the world, they can't get enough.

Books and songs are written from these stories.

These renegades and war heroes, that live in the icy winds,

greyed out skies, up in the ceiling of the world, like savages.

Spinning these wildly popular tales of supernatural beings..

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Until one day the sightings became very real.

Taking this new found world of refinement, and pausing it on axis.

One after another the same sighting kept occurring..

with the same description following, then one got out of the north.

Central denying eyes gazed upon it.

but there can be no mistaking it, and too many witnesses for a cover up attempt,

a Werewolf.

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A different breed of Werewolf..

a shambling rogue, with no home.. no crest of long family heritage,

to govern their behavior in the pack. Something never seen before.

Shallow green eyes ablaze, void of thought, compelled in it's movements.

The first reports are of brazen ferocity, in broad daylight.. assaulting whole settlements,

without so much as a remorseful pause in it's fury. As more reports start filing in,

in begins reaching a level of panic that hasn't been seen in ages.

This peaceful new era grown soft, and not equipped to deal with such things,

the undeniable proof, makes it's way to Rome.

Where the Vatican takes these matters quite seriously,

the church, immediately dispatches their most prized pupil,

to investigate. And or exterminate.

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Life is hard in the north.

You can tell a northerner they say..

they are direct, politely cunning, professionals at asking questions.

As if they've seen so much they assume nothing.

They carry no politics from the central world,

as words, broken promises and stretching goal posts,

don't go very far.. and carry very little weight,

faced with the various supernatural sightings, and very real superstitions,

that reveal themselves quite frequently up here..

people tend to go missing with just a story following,

so they live by their wits.

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A few spread out kingdoms scatter the north, in hard to reach places.

Small settlements, in pristine hollows never to be found.

Allowing refuge for those, that don't want to be discovered.

Otherwise some come to the north for the adventurer's trove awaiting..

endless treasures and fame, from stories and maps leftover from old.

Gideon, is the main city, that lies on the eastern seaboard.

Acting as a threshold to the north, providing the easiest entry point.

With supplies and lodging on offer for those looking to stay long term.

Widely considered to be the safest place in the north, it is fiercely protected.

A standing army that never leaves it's post.

To be a permanent Gideon resident, you are required to serve at least one tour,

in their illustrious army.. and they are proud to do so.

Gideon's denizens are loyal, god fearing people.. they couldn't live anywhere else.

They are respectful of the old-ways, with charming etiquette they mind P's and Q's,

because you never know who might be listening.

A strong united community is the city's backbone, crimes don't just go away..

their methods of justice, sometimes having swift, supernatural ends.

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Chapter 1.

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The inn's tavern is low lit, just a few lanterns at the tables,

and the warm cornered fireplace, smoldering it's last embers.

Sparse crowd tonight.. getting late into the icy northern evening.

Off the beaten path, one of Gideon's more secretive establishments,

the small wooded sign above the door reads 'Raven's delight'.

Written in charcoal on damp dull boards, it's barely legible.

Two occupants inside, in candid conservations, at the back tables..

with maps strewn about in layers overlapping, different editions of the same map.

Lanterns holding down the curling corners, spreading them out flat.

A steady supply of hot toddies coming in.

The much younger gentleman,

making marks along the maps, studying the topography through narrow valleys.

Adding notes, and comparing references to his journal splayed out and close by.

Creating a catalog of all the recent Werewolf sightings,

flagging with a checkpoint which ones are most severe.

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The other gentleman adjacent, is a large mysterious man..

that is the most accurate description possible.

He is wearing a gallon high, wide brimmed.. single silver buckled fedora.

Indoors no less.

Leaned back in his chair, with a cigar burning next to him,

he is all blacks and greys.. he blends in with the shadows.

The winter's trench coat he's wearing is knee length, with buckles and straps,

concealing what he might be hiding underneath.

It doesn't look like he's watching.. but he is.

Seeing his apprentice's wandering hands of the northern maps,

through an oversized magnifying glass.

His fingers following a landmark river, as it's winding up through the meadows.

Then stopping at a peculiar area..

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"Van, what's this on the map here?"

Carl asking as he's scanning every inch of the uncharted area.

Noticing that it's wide flat for a mile,

with what looks like border walls, leading to a land bridge behind it,

and a long road through the meadows leading up to it..

a shape like a castle. Only it has no key, or description..

no stencil with references and dates of discovery, it's just blank.

Carl is a young man in his mid twenties,

shaggy blonde unkempt hair, with a permanent inquisitive look on his face.

Since as long as he can remember,

he's had an unrelenting fascination with the supernatural.

Consumed by it, he's had one path his entire life..

leading him directly to the greatest teacher there is,

in his own way.

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He doesn't have to look,

"It's Castle Baudelaire."

Van is a man of few words, an intimidating presence.

Stoic and straight to the point, with a large build and chiseled chin,

ruggedly handsome. He seems to always get what he wants.

A gruff in his voice, that matches his always five o'clock shadowed beard.

Other-worldly charm.. almost amused in the face of death,

like he's always one step ahead.

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Having been delivered to the Vatican as a baby in a crib, with an Angel's first name.

And a survivor's last name.. they took special interest in him.

Discovering he does appear to be touched by god, the man is in-corruptible.

Evil's incantations, charms and spells of any kind, have no take.. through his 'Holy Armor'.

Van can sense evil he is impossible to sneak up on,

a master tracker, with wits like a supernatural razor.

And at almost two hundred years old, Van has proven himself time, and time again.

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Carl laughing as he searches his memory, in on the joke.. he's read this story too.

"You mean Kara Baudelaire?, that witch goddess.. from the children's book?"

A few eyes come alive around the tavern, hearing that name..

some rustling of ears leaning in closer.

Van can feel it on his back, lowering his voice,

giving Carl the look, to do the same.

"She's real Carl."

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That he didn't catch onto,

the smirk still hasn't washed away as Carl leans into the jest,

"And I suppose her protector.. Reesa?,

with the bright gold broadsword, the embodiment of Athena,

she's real too is she?"

Still laughing it out, like they're just spinning drunken fables,

waiting for Van's laugh in return..

but he doesn't get one.

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"Ri-sha."

Correcting him, Van leans it in close.

"This is her bar.. that's named after her..

so yea, she's real too.. and they're sisters so ya know."

Van not wanting to give too much,

this is an off-mission line of questioning,

a distraction from their very serious investigation.

But he doesn't want his apprentice, uninformed either.

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Carl pauses for thought.. his concentration completely de-railed.

More so thinking..

About how Van's face, hasn't dropped eye contact for a second.

Or changed shape in facial gestures by even a millimeter.

The tone and rhythm of his voice, so steady you could set a clock to it.

What he is hearing is indeed fact,

he must know more.

"If Kara is real as you say.. how come we've never had her on assignment?"

Looking for answers now, Carl's mind is an excited sponge for new information.

"Haven't been any sightings."

Van had it at the ready, like he's said it dozens of times.

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Carl's cockles are spinning.

He's mystified, hearing from his most admired friend and Sire,

that this fanciful character from a children's book!

Might actually be real!?, he presses..

"Have you ever seeen her?"

Squinting eyes sharp to a pierce, studying his response.

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Van while ashing his cigar, sitting back more comfortable,

in his very casual nonchalance,

"Lots a times."

Carl actually jumps in his seat!

Only being in his second term of service as a Friar,

most of his time has been spent in libraries, doing study and research.

He's a babe in the woods up here in the wilds of the north.

"Everything I've ever read.. always said she's just a myth,

a legend for putting children to sleep."

Carl's usual scientific demeanor ringing through.

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"Maybe she wants it that way."

Van gives it to him square straight.

Then giving a glance over his shoulder at the entrance,

expecting a rendezvous with their late carriage driver,

so they can get underway.

"Faascinating."

Carl wide-eyed, quickly seeing the logic in her doing such a thing.

A quick stirring comes in behind him, chairs screeching for room..

an eavesdropper butting in!

"YOU LEAVE THAT WOMAN ALONE!

YOU LEAVE HER BE!, SHE'S DONE NOTHIN TO YOOUU!

LET HER REST IN PEACE!"

Breaking through the calm!, of the quiet tavern,

the old man's voice is crying loud as he scratches it out!

Barely sighted, with long greys in his beard,

up on his cane while jabbing points at them!

The whole bar now watching intently.

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Van, out of his chair immediately!,

moving fast to diffuse the situation.

Gideon's townsfolk are of his few allies, he can't afford to be misunderstood,

and lose yet more favor to his mysterious reputation.

"My good man.. I would never,

I'm not here for her."

Van trying to offer honest comfort, and calm the man down,

but his reputation will always precede him.

"HE'S A VAN HELSING LADS!,

DON'T YA SEE!?, HE WILL NEVER LEAVE HER BE!"

Now trying to rally patrons around him.. shuffling from the corners,

a few dark silhouettes going from sitting to standing..

tension in the air, the room is escalating quickly.

Van quiet.. this is exactly what he was trying to avoid,

he gives a side signal to Carl by hand gesture,

it's time to make their leave.

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In true northern fashion..

the dark hooded figure just appeared behind the old man.

With a reassuring hand on his shoulder, whispering something to him,

while handing him a fistful of gold coin,

"He'd never make it passed the front doors..

and you know why, rest easy old friend,

here.. have a few rounds on me."

This new figure's confidently kind presence, brings the room down to him.

He's armed but he doesn't have to use it, not within these walls.

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Without another word, Van is gathering his affects,

buttoning up his trench for the outdoors.

For each passing moment in a tavern full of drunks..

can be told several different ways.. in various context.

His best solution, is give them nothing.

Don't give them what they need, to use against you.

Hopefully they forget I was here.

Carl taking the cue in stunned silence, out of his depth..

trying to stay in Van's shadow.

The duo in hurried steps, shouldering rucksacks,

in a move towards the tavern doors.

A split second of eye contact between the dark hooded figure,

and Van, that not even Carl caught onto.

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Breaching the doors is an icy blast of changing environments,

mid winter, and passed midnight, cold that goes in your bones.

Exposed skin is not an option for anyone not born here.

Coming down the stoop, the night is clear..

stars blinking like diamonds across the sky, every constellation is visible.

The northern skies are unlike any other.

A layer of ankle deep powder snow through the streets, bitter crunches underfoot,

and feather light. Leaving first tracks as they go.

Like a deadening blanket of sound throughout the city,

it is pin drop quiet.. just white noise.

Van hears the two horse carriage approaching..

coming in slow pace, through side streets it's movements are stop-an-go unsure.

Like the driver has done a few laps and not found it.

Van gives him a few waving flags.

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"You're late."

The well worn carriage, pulling up to a creaking halt alongside him,

"Did a bear eat ya?"

Van immediately getting a laugh from the driver!,

as his thick winter's garb, doesn't just look like an entire bear,

from head to toe draping him.. that's precisely what it is.

"My apologies sonny, cold one tonight..

hard to see, the ice tears comin on strong."

In his step down from the driver's seat,

he offers a hand with securing luggage on the racks,

"Warm up inside, catch your breath..

I'll take care of the luggage."

Van seeing the man is aged.. wincing steps,

probably in his mid sixties, yet still braving his dubious employment.

Hobbling his walk, like his heels just don't work anymore.

"Many thanks, lad."

A pat on Van's shoulder as he's leaning open the doors.

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The carriage sets off sure and steady.

A well seasoned driver, with horses he's probably raised.

The cabin is cozy with a pellet heater, and easy rocking speed.

Van looking forward to getting some shut-eye,

Carl is nowhere near the realm of possibility.. to just fall asleep.

He's re running the entire scene in his head,

of what just happened in that bar..

"What did he mean.. let her rest in peace, has she been slain?"

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"No more Kara talk."

Van grumbling through a wide brim over his face,

laid out on his back, taking the entire length of the cramped cabin,

out so fast a snore culminated his request.

Carl has young energy for days.

Peering out the small window of the carriage, while unrolling maps,

marking adjustments, then adding it to his day-by-day journal.

Plotting in new points of interest, with the bathing oranges of sunrise,

now illuminating the peaks and valleys in the distance.

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Van lost in darkness, a reoccurring dream..

it's just seconds long.. but stays there in agony.

It's always black and grey.. there is never color.

Angry faces.. spitting slurs, with missing teeth..

jeering crowds condemning his name.

A blazing firepit.. a body burning in it, that's not his.

Eyes open fast!, as he hates this dream!,

the morning sun burning through the cabin,

made the dreaming firepit all the more real!

A quick breath getting his bearings,

swinging his psyche back to his reality.

"Driver!, this will do."

A soft bang on the cabin's ceiling.. as he's watching out the window.

Approaching one of their plotted points. Familiar with just landmarks,

the shaping of terrain around him. He barely needs a map.

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"Is she really as tall as you are?"

Carl still fixated, as the duo gathering supplies for a light endeavor,

heading down the carriage stairs.

"Still?.."

Van with cigar in chomp, shouldering a crossbow, lengthwise across his back.

Who stands within up or down inches, of six foot five.

Now leading the duo, not entertaining his topic of discussion anymore.

A quick word with the driver, instructing him to wait, and offering up half of his gold take.

Stepping down from the road's shelf, a Bluebird day..

crisp and clean air under the dome of perfect blue, with bright rays and small flurries like pixie dust.

To traversing a wide shallow cornice bowl of powder snow,

approaching the forested treeline just off in front of them.

"I don't understand..

if you've been in her presence, how come you didn't apprehend her?"

Carl shuffling up close from behind.

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"As if I could."

Under his breath.. barely audible above winds through the tundra.

Sharpening his senses, they're getting close to the waypoint,

scanning the landscape like a radar.

"Wut?"

Carl right alongside him now.

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"Because she isn't E-vil."

Van's had enough, he stops it turning on him,

wheeling a heel towering miles above Carl.

"Carl, I need you focused.

Kara is gone, and she's never coming back,

she's in the past.

Here and now.. this is unprecedented evil,

and we're right on it's tail.

I need you prepared and at the ready if we find something.

No distractions, you understand?"

Stern tones coming from Van, and it's for Carl's own good.

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"I do.. my apologies."

Carl hastily organizing his pack, pushing maps towards the back,

bringing small arm weapons to the front.

He's aware of Van's subtleties.. and that IF,

is more often than not.. a when.

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Pass a clearing, and into a particularly thick part of the woods.. it gets dark,

the canopy broad overhead, blocking out the sun.

As Van is pushing brush aside, clearing a path on his upward hike, he senses it!

Peering a part through the undergrowth..

a smoke trail.. ashy greys, gently wafting from a small chimney,

barely noticeable like it's been smoldering for days.

The hunter's cabin from their map pin!, just fifty yards in front of them.

Nestled at the back of a snow packed meadow.

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On approach to the small cabin, Van goes silent.

This report has accuracy.. a struggle for life took place here.

The rickety structure's roof, is caved in from the middle.

Support beams from the A-frame, crashing through the walls on one side.

Giving the whole foundation, a topsy-turvy slant,

like it just might fall over backwards.

The cabin door is splayed open, and off it's hinges..

foot tracks!

A fighter's steps.. more than one, ranging all over the grounds,

they were skilled, they tried to vanquish the beast,

possibly entrapping it first.

Blood stains are everywhere.. thick pools of darkened coagulant.

Raking claw marks down the sides of walls!, in deep gashes.

This creature has leveling force.

A layer of soot inches deep..

just off to one side of the cabin, like it was intentionally brought down,

in an explosion of sorts.

More foot tracks.. unfollowed, to the south east,

the one that got away.

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Van now scanning from the threshold,

the sun's rays shining through the caved in roof,

illuminating the grisly scene, with an arrow point shaft,

showing the way.

Carl's lost pace.. his legs don't want to bring him there,

in a pull he can't deny, lays eyes right on it.

Crushed by the falling wood beams, impaled by it's debris.

Blackened from an explosion of barreled powder,

a very large.. strange looking werewolf.

Carl is paralyzed stiff.. his first encounter with a supernatural being.

And Van is being awfully quiet.

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This doesn't fit my body of research.. there is no study here,

Carl doesn't know where to begin.

The tufts of coarse hair, are mismatched colors and texture..

one arm is noticeably larger than the other.

It's left leg is brindle coat.. all the way down to ankle,

while the other leg is silver coat.. but in patchwork.

Van moves in close, getting low to it..

his movements are tensing up, severely bothered by what he's seeing.

"This is no werewolf."

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Turning over a paw, a quick inspection through it's blackened claws,

"It's more like.. parts of a werewolf..

this is unnatural Carl.. even for supernatural standards."

Van doesn't sound like usual confident Van,

he's off his game. And it's adding to Carl's anxiety.

Moving over to the other side of the beast,

he begins clipping fur, harvesting tissue samples from different appendages.

The teeth are unholy, tar dipped wet.. as he yanks one by the root!

"..."

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It was in-audible.. Carl couldn't hear it, but there was a 'Help'.

His fear starts slowly turning to curiosity, as he leans in to do his work.

"Yes, I see what you mean.."

Measuring bite marks, depth.. spacing of the teeth,

the gaping scratch lengths left behind, associated to a beast of this size,

adding it to his journal for the records.

"There can't be soo many!,

there just can't be.. "

Under his breath whispering to himself,

the weight, of just how many of these creatures might be out there,

and the fact that they are spreading out.

Is starting to grate on Carl's fragile sensibilities.

There are hundreds of sightings!

And that's just what's been 'officially' reported.

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"Triple what you know, that's the prepared bet."

Van rising tall from behind.. he's seen enough.

Giving a prod to his vigilance,

"We're not staying long.. put a button on it."

Seeing that Carl still has journals, measure rolls,

different vials for samples, still strewn about.

"This is the kind of exposure that werewolves don't do..

they stay hidden, in secret.. this is somethin else,

something.. old."

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While the gentlemen are assuming their usual work,

storing their findings away, cataloging the different samples,

keeping a thorough and timely log of their discoveries.

There is a presence above them.. appearing like it dropped from the sky.

A fearless presence.. peering through the caved in roof from the tall trees.

And it looks extremely unhappy, as these 'investigators',

try to undo her glorious conquest.

"SOo, The Golden Boy!.. or is it errand boy!?,

and where!, will you lead me to when you flee!"

Escaping hisses from her twisted face.

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Van heels on a dime looking right at her!

His honed in senses, immediately finding the pinging source!

This is different!

A drenching evil!.. he's never felt the void of life so strong!,

truly a powerful, old world being is nearby!

Green eyes ablaze.. fury behind them,

a blackened smoke outline, of a feminine figure..

locked in it's menacing hiss, directly at Van.

In the next blink!, she's gone as fast as she appeared!

Watching her just take to flight!, straight up in the air!

The foul stench of death, everywhere in her wake.

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"CARL, GATHER IT NOW!"

Van frantic!, belting loud as he's scooping Carl up,

quickly packing whatever they can in their satchels,

with Van already shouldering him out the door!

Carl is petrified silence.. terrified stiff moves in his steps,

like his legs don't work anymore.

Never hearing this sense of urgency in Van's voice,

his thought process collapsed, he can't keep up with Van's pace!

Charging like a bull!, Van bounds like a champion,

and not some, 'hundred' year old man.

Now pulling Carl alongside him, running for the both of them!

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Back the way they came!, with the trail already pushed aside,

and carved out. Dropping samples toppling from their packs,

just to leave them, keep running!

Van catches it fast!, pinging in his senses..

focuses down hard through the undergrowth,

movement, back by the cabin's porch.

Squinting a peer through the flurries,

earth being moved in a small pile, rippling outwards, erupting in the middle!

CLAWS!, Digging there way up out of the ground!

Another one!, summoned from the bowels of death itself!

He can already hear the snarling un-dead growls!

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"AS FAST AS YOU CAN CARL!"

Carl now crippled in fear!, his legs have become rubberized!

Van is barreling him forward!, by the collar, he almost has him clear of the snow!

He has no idea what to think, he's never seen this side of Van.

A scared Van.

Bursting passed the treeline, as they stride over gaps,

casting brush aside or toppling it over!

Falling down a ledge, because it's quicker than scaling it!

.

Trudging hard through the shallow cornice bowl,

stumbling progress with heavy feet in the gluey snow,

it's catching up from behind!

The carriage is just there now!

Approaching the road's shelf, the driver comes bounding from his seat,

clearly seeing the intensity of what's coming!

"RUN MAN!, RUN!, it's right behind ya!"

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"GET THE HELL OUTTA HERE!"

Van barking loud at the old man, save yourself!

But this old man is a northerner.. and he's no coward.

A quick turn of just hands, not peeling eyes away,

he grabs the double-barreled blunderbuss, always benched on his right.

A quick crack open from the back.. check for ammunition,

he takes aim down range, right at the heads of Van and Carl!

"TIE YER SHOOZ, SOONNNY!"

The old man's voice coming alive!,

born and raised just miles away, he is always at the ready!

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"THAT WON'T WORK!"

Van in a flat crawl, with Carl alongside him,

growling at the driver's bird shot!, weaponry.. still barking him to leave!

the buckshot rings out!

The thumping bass of the blunderbuss,

shakes snow off the trees!

A warning shot!, a vain attempt to turn the beast away!

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The old man's failing vision..

finally catches the profile of what's coming.

Furred haze from it's hulking shoulders..

those green eyes.. that just cannot hide in the brushes.

The howling rage in echo as it gets closer!

Covering ground in huge, on all fours bounds!

Tearing through the undergrowth, leaving small trees toppled behind it!

.

He locks eyes with it!

'Why man!, why would you do that!'

Screaming in his head!, but any human would look!

FLEEE!

Flight panic takes over completely!, he turns his back on it!,

heading up the carriage stairs!

Getting a hand on the reins about to seat his position!,

he can feel it..

like a pit in your stomach.. the familiar knotting ache,

that you got it all wrong.

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Turning to fire he has one barrel left!

It's AIRBORNE!, and right on top of him!

Leaping the entire gap between them!,

covering the ground over the top of Carl and Van!

POINT-BLANK!, just barely getting his sights up in time!

The buckshot powder keg!, explodes the two of them over the side!

The momentum of it's toothy clawed dive tackle!,

rolling them both down the other side, of the road's shelf.

Shaking off the buckshot, like it's just a sting to it.

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Horrific sounds.. once heard they are never forgotten.

Screams reach a pitch you've never heard before,

even from someone you've known your entire life.

Being beneath the full mount of this unholy beast..

helpless.

Long wet slashes.. gnawing pulls of tendons ripping away,

the cracking of bone under teeth.

The sounds of being eaten alive.

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Without a moments hesitation, Van is in the driver's seat!,

pulling Carl up alongside him.

Who's peeling his eyes away, in terrified last looks!

"We have to help him!"

Van with no time for explanation!,

"HE'S DEAD CARL!, AND WER NEXT!"

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Shoulders him over!, as he grabs the reins and cracks the horses!

"HAAH!, HAH!" Spurring the horses to motivation!

They begin tearing down the road!, in a different direction from which they came.

.

But a few miles away..

buried deep within the earth's mantle, timeless entombed.

Far beneath the hallowed, deserted grounds of Castle Baudelaire.

Kara Baudelaire.. rips open an eye!, like a dusty rusted seam coming apart!

A far ranging vision of what's coming..

rage from her awakening is multiplying intensities, with each passing second.

Small turns from her neck, scraping the ages of nestled earth off her face.

A dull scratchy hiss.. growing from within her.

Unrecognizable from what's been written, she's been buried for decades.

.

Her skin is the rotted greys of death..

there is no hint, of the angelic ivory sheen described.

Her face is a gothic spider's web, of midnight blue pulsing veins,

completely overtaking it.. in a run down her long neck.

Eyes burning in purple fire, deep set outlines and blackened thick, all around them.

Her high arched scowl permanent.. for she is furiously starved.

Her hair has poetic passages, describing different tones of bright silver waves.

Reduced to a charcoal grey matted mess, layered in cobwebs of filthy decay.

Twisting in tendril'd vines down to her waist.

.

She's wearing what's called the Glen Witch's burial gown.

A long robed macabre ensemble, that is void black and floor length.

Long sleeved to the wrist, the fold over completely closed from shoulder to hip.

Bone trimmed.. across the neckline in a fan,

larger five inch bones.. in a vertical tight spaced row, make the belt.

All the way around in a corset of deathly piano keys.

A far cry..

from this angel described, in a sparkling white dress.

.

Transcending time in her tomb throughout the years,

Kara can feel the world around her. Out of her body in visions of past and future colliding.

Twitching eyes, blinking pebbled debris out of her sight,

so she can finally see terra firma again.

Anger hits another stage.. from this rude awakening coming her way.

She's now panting in hisses.

Shoulders begin leaning out clawed hands,

as they regain their powerful functions,

scooping out piles of earthy chunks from above her.

Her anger overflows.

"THEY'RE COMING FOR MY HOUSE!"

Unhinging her rage!, in flying elbows for softening!,

she's demolishing her earthen walls!

Viciously assaulting earth as she moves upward!,

thrashing hard with all four limbs!

She's at a running pace..

nothing in this world can burrow like a Vampire.

.

The gates of Castle Baudelaire lay unlatched.

An ominous peering sightline through the swaying crack,

of what lies inside.. almost a date to intruders.

In present time it is just considered a haunt.

What started as treasure hunters, adventurers seeking fame,

came back with nothing, but stories of wailing ghosts..

or some were never heard from again.

.

Stomping loud hooves!, with the cracks of leather!,

the carriage comes thrashing down the road!, up off a wheel!

Careening wild!, as it goes barreling towards Kara's gates!

Van way off kilter!, from being thrown around in the driver's seat,

he's late on the reins!

Yanking on them backwards, while screaming all he's got!

"WOoAAh!, WOOOOAH!"

But in their absolutely frantic pace!, it's too late.

The carriage buckles upwards from the back!,

from the weight transfer of hooves digging in!,

the horses can't stop in time!

Crashing the gates like an accordion coming together!,

as the horses go down, the back comes up!

Pitching the men out of their seats!, sprawling them into the courtyard!,

in a horrible wreck!

.

Carl blinded in stars by the impact!, trying to regain focus..

dazed in confusion, pawing for ground to right himself.

Hearing muffled sounds of Van, as the concussion near deafened him!

Scooped up by Van!, and whisked to the double doors!, leading to the main hall entrance.

Kicking at the doors as hard as he can!, finally on three blasting them open!

.

"KAZAANDRAA!"

The top of his lungs!, echoing down the barren halls,

two more times!, and dragging it out!

'Kazandra'?

Carl still coming out of shock!,

as his memory starts searching for such a name!

.

He hears a sound like a large wet rag..

snapping like a whip, but you electrified it first.

Tapping..

"Was that the best way to get my attention?,

and who's gooing to cleean, all that?"

Smooth as silk.

A blue blooded, high pitched tone.

.

The gentlemen wheel around to face her!

Just a few steps inside the main hall study,

Kazandra in a blink through a cloud..

appears at the threshold double doors behind them.

Perched like a teapot, with outstretched arm leaning the frame,

her other arm doing finger rolls on her hip.

Only standing on the ball of a foot,

her other leg behind, in a relaxed drape along calf.

Wearing a very elegant, bold red dress,

that fits her like a glove. Long sleeved, with silver trim linework.

Full coverage, fastened at the neckline with a smooth drop to the floor.

.

Carl can't believe what he's seeing!

Utterly lost from such a day!

What is this!, who is this!?.. silken silvered maiden!

She's all of six foot tall, while standing barefoot in the north!

Her skin is polished ivory smooth.. without blemish or flaw,

is this Kara using an alias!?

She's smiling at Van like she knows him!

Van still just a stammering stutter!, trying to regain his breath,

Carl staring down this goddess!, he can't look away!

.

Kazandra drops her flirtatious smirk,

taking things a little more seriously now.

This is a very strange side of Van, it's unsettling for her to see.

He's never looked beaten before.. he is outmatched.

"It can't be that bad.."

.

"IT-IS!"

Van gasping breath!,

"SOmething's co-"

The twitch snap of his head!, get the words out man!

"WERE-WO-"

.

EXPLODING through the stained glass!, from the courtyard balcony above them,

the hulking homunculus of a werewolf!, crashes down to the marbled floors!

Raking claws in a skid for traction!, from it's thunderous entrance!

Coming to a screeching halt, just short of the rear study,

the beast turns on the three!, in full stretch upwards!, howling it's unnatural timbres!

Crazed hollow fury in it's green eyed blaze!, it's parts don't match!

In it's first twitch of a movement towards them..

Kazandra's tiny squeaking gasp follows.

From the very back of the study, through the open side door,

behind the werewolf.

She sees a faint familiar outline.. shrouded greys tall in the dark corridor,

soft crackles of light emanating from the silhouette's shoulders,

the room is now silent, just the pat of her bare feet.

.

Kazandra cannot move!, she has tears in her eyes already!

The shadowed figure is moving slowly..

but deliberately.

Her glide is rigid tense, fearlessly leaned forward.

Single minded pursuit, she hasn't looked at anything yet,

but this unwanted upstart of Evil!, in her home!

Carl in certain denial!, he knows who that's supposed to be!

But it can't be her!

She looks like a slighting wretch!, of what's been written!

In blankets of decay, with small thin currents of electricity,

forking down her arms!

.

Beneath her tangle of grey.

Behind the floor length, blackened burial gown,

what looks like a tattoo.. no writing has ever described.

As if it was penned in glowing white ink.

Barely visible celestial patterns, intricate circular symmetry,

only showing through in small windows of reveal,

underneath the haunting blacks and greys of her silhouette.

Begins pulsing in beats!

illuminating more with each tick!, from under her skin!

Burning in bright fast zips to her extremities!,

suggesting the hidden 'tattoo' covers her entire body!

.

Carl can't look at her anymore!, she is too much to take in!

With a hand up, to try and see her through,

he can't really see her face.. just a fiery purpled scowl,

beneath a lightning storm.

Fixed like grim death on the werewolf.

Like she's set to make an example,

evil will have no foothold to my family.

.

"KAARRAAAA!"

Kazandra finally got it out!

Bursting it loud!, what werewolf!?

She's giggling and clapping as she's hopping up an down!

.

Kara doesn't say a word. Doesn't remove her stare.

The werewolf's turn on her is awkward!, limbs compelled before the head!

It squares her up!, on fours!, lowering it's haunches it has no concept of fear!

Pounces the distance full force!, claws akimbo for wanton destruction!

.

Time stops as she snatches it from the sky..

captivating all other occupants in the room.

It was effortless.

Her clawed hands growing talons for decades are the size of dinner plates,

and she has it by the neck!.. off it's feet, like a child's toy.

Naturally the beast would be in kicking struggles, flailing wild,

but she is digging her long nailed daggers through it's spine!

One handed!, standing straight up'n down, it couldn't put a budge,

on her six foot five, towering dense frame.

Her move so sure and steady, she knew exactly what it was going to do.

Pulls it in close.. eye to eye examining this old-world beastly thing.

Clenching fangs with her lips rolled back in disgust!

She begins tightening her grip closed..

she feels a thumb touch a finger.

There's not much left through the middle anymore!,

she is decapitating it!, in her bare hand!

.

NO!

Too quick.

Kara feeling the beast go limp.. has some aggressions to take out.

What happens next is too fast, for humans to fully realize,

all they ever do is freeze.. and make terrified faces.

The howling spear!, of a werewolf, goes flying off the walls!

Deafening thunks!, and bone chilling cracks following!,

from the impact of this thing being smashed around!

Landing from the ceiling!, to her waiting there!

Only to be sent again!, face first!, howling airborne towards another stone wall!

As she is pitching and heaving the beast around her castle!,

like a rucksack against the walls!

The whole structure!, is tremoring groans from her pounding ferocity!

Whimpering barks!, are blasting from the werewolf like a drum!

.

Now looking for something truly cathartic..

she gets hold of a fully stocked wall sized bookcase,

up, over and around.

The bookcase evaporates in splinters!, through the air!

As she EXPLODES IT!, off it's head!, she squatted it down like a bug!

Kara rips it off the ground!, by the back of it's neck!,

it's not moving anymore!

Still cussing the lifeless heap,

she drops it with a quick circling duck..

reaching from down low, she turns a massive uppercut!,

her feet leave the ground!

The density and sheer velocity!, of her leaping strike,

colliding with this beast, sounds like STEEL coming together.

A detached torso!, goes right out the stained glass from which it came!

While the lower half of the werewolf's body, folds limp to the floor.

.

She finally speaks.. and it's in heaves of anger.

"GABRIEL VAN HELSING."

The tone is disturbing. It's not from this world.

It's ancient sounding.. in reverberating bellows through her castle.

Instinctively a hand goes up, her right hand high in the air.

Summoning her most prized possession, her very livelihood, her staff.

That comes to her hand when she calls it.

The Solist's tooth Artifact quarterstaff,

retrieving to her hand in a gust of wind.

Icy blown splinters form the top hook,

then spiraling a taper, down to the bladed bottom.

Made of un melting ice, called permafrost.

It is indestructible, and as tall as she is.

.

In their kicking scrambles!, to avoid the howling onslaught of flying werewolf,

Van and Carl have moved back's against the door frame, pinned in silence.

For a human's normal reaction to seeing her in this state, is mal-function.

Without a word of warning, she reaches all the way back to the javelin stop!

Fires the staff at VAN!

INCHES!, sinking just to the left of his head!, dug in halfway through the frame,

and out the other side!

.

Van pleading for restraint!, trying to back up from her, she's blocked his way out!

"Kara please!, just listen.. let me explain!,

I would never do anything to hurt your family Kara, you know I wouldn't!"

Van trying to get as many words out as he can,

he's seen what she's capable of, and this was just her warm-up.

.

She isn't listening.

"They're coming for meee now!

You've brought this plague on my doorstep, In my HOME!"

Screeching the ending sharp.. it pained her to say it.

Her hissing words are horrible to his ears,

because he knows she's right.

He is on his knees begging.. and he means it.

"I'm soo sorry Kara.. please forgive me.. I had nowhere to go,

I have all the information on what's happening."

.

"I KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!"

Firing in on approach!, she almost gets hands on him!,

she pauses taking stock.. feeling her home age around her.

The realization of time passed is playing a jarring game of catch up.

It's been soo long.. her heart is breaking seeing it's condition.

There's a new person with Van, he's so young, he's an innocent.

He looks terrified like he might have a heart attack,

Kara takes a beat.

Calming her rage with a few long breaths,

regaining her sensibilities, after such a long discombobulating.. nap.

The lightshow, of her pulsing 'tattoo' now fading flush against her skin,

almost impossible to see.

.

She finds Kazandra's eyes already waiting for her's.

Filled with tears of loving shock!, she's bounding on her tiptoes.

Kara's murderous face clears up instantaneously.

In what seemed like one step.. of a swooping glide,

they are in a tight, full body embrace.

Unspoken.. as if they have their own communication,

tears are streaming down between them.

For a haunted, desolate home for decades,

exiled sisters, living in fear.. was never part of the plan.

.

"Hey yoouu."

They are forehead to forehead.

Kara comforting her as best she can,

cradling her face in shaking hands, wiping her tears away,

as they are soo infectious.

Just from their touch, she can feel the misery that Kazandra was going through.

A shade of an existence, being a lonely haunt in their castle for ages.

There's a soft layer of innocence, that's just not on her face anymore..

"Pleeaase don't goo agaain."

Still holding on tight. With her big doe eyes begging for confirmation,

a sharp left fang, tugging on her lower lip.

.

And it's tearing Kara apart inside, seeing her aged with an edge,

"I'M NOT!.. we're not!, none of us are not!,

never again!.. I have a plan!"

Even beneath the gothic masquerade,

her big ruby smile comes shining through,

with a point on Kazandra's nose.

.

In a mirror's reflection..

Kazandra's wide ruby lips go ear to ear.

She believes in her big sister Kara,

more than anything else in this world.

Being this close to her again, is a rush of new life flowing in.

It's so hard for her to let go.. siphoning Kara's love is an addiction.

The years of her banishment, begin fading away..

buried in the relief, of Kara's strong embrace.

She starts making adjusting pawing motions,

at her twisted strands of ashy silver, pushing locks over an ear,

"There you arrre..

that was quite!, the display witch goddess..

you reached the courtyard with it!

I heard it squeaking the entire way!"

.

Kara catches her own laugh!, far too many urgent matters on her mind.

"It just broke-open, didn't it!?"

Finally now taking notice of her absolutely haunting appearance!,

from Kazandra's subtle nudges,

"OOoo, riight."

.

Kazandra who is still in bounding toe leaps from her excitement,

"Well I like it!,

but you're scaring the humans to death!

Soo iim the pretty one theen."

She can't help it.. and she doesn't mean it.

She is just pining for her sister's loving banter.

.

"O I bet you like that, don't you!?"

Kara gives right in.

She's missed her soo much.

Starts grabbing lengths of her wild tendrils,

pushing it all back behind her face,

twisting a tie, in a haphazard bun.

.

Locked in a trance, in a read of each other's minds,

all glowing smiles, this is the start of a new era.

Kara snaps to attention!, urgent matters need attending!

Now settled in her normal blue blood tones, of chirps and sweetness.

"Take our clergy boys to the pantry, please."

.

It only sounded sweet..

as Kazandra scrunches her face in question,

"The pantry?"

It just seems so cruel!

.

Kara is already halfway up the stairs.

Motivating further with each step, piecing her plan together.

"Where is Risha!?"

Blurting to herself, as she reaches the top floor landing of her study,

heading to her messenger ravens at the window ledge.

"This place is a MESS!"

Pulling a chair, reaching for her lucky blue quill,

she begins furiously paging letters, unnaturally fast cursive.

The pin of the ink tip never picks up. She just pulls a page,

to the next one underneath it.

.

The first round of letters, going to track down Risha.

Her other sister.. the unwitting celebrity.

Her life long protector, and General of Gideon's Army.

Currently on assignment, she's always on the move.

"You did that!"

Kazandra's squeaking protest up the stairs!

"Luv you baabe."

Barely audible, only Kazandra heard it,

from the very back of the top floor study.

.

With just a shrug looking at Van and Carl, she points the way.

Carl who has been in violent shaking tremors..

since the moment he walked in here.

Feels his legs give way, as the lights flick off..

hitting the marble in a plank. Out cold.

.

.

Chapter 2.

.

The pantry door of a vampire swings open.

Beneath the ground, cold and dank, with the smell of rotted woods.

Stone floored and twenty yards squared, it is vast.

Supported by Y-frame arches, against rock walls,

leading to a backdoor, that's barely visible.

The trio come in with Carl dragging through the middle, by the shoulders.

Toes in a dangle behind him, with an arm draped over each of them.

Kazandra breaks the ice.. he is being painfully quiet,

still contemplating what he's done.

"She'l be fiiine."

The two now getting Carl in a sitting prop against the rock wall.

"I hope so."

Van taking a seated position next to him, sulking posture.

An arm over his raised knee, no eye contact.

.

So she forces it. By giving the wide brim a soft tilt upwards,

"Aww big lug!,

you know herrr, she's already ten steps ahead of you.

She's happy to see you!, and I know these things,

she's just shaking off a fifty year nap."

Affectionately she calls him Big Lug.

Kazandra has seen a lot in this world, even thin veils to other worlds.

Van's doorway size frame is impressive,

and she loves pointing it out.

.

Van feeling a little more relaxed,

as she is just laying on the charm.

"Guess we'l find out soon enough?"

Rolls over a one-sided smile, for the attempts she's made,

to make him feel better.

Scanning the room, but it's too dark to see..

there's a husk with no definition against the shadows,

slumped in the corner.

A void within the darkened room.

"Forgot one,"

.

"OOops!"

She saw it as he did!

"Well I didn't get much warning."

On the move, she gets the figure over a shoulder,

heading towards the backdoor,

"Back as soon as I can."

.

The backdoor seals with a thick sounding lock.

The front door is wide open..

Van walks over closing himself in, serving his penance as requested.

Carl coming to, in the pitch black darkness,

senses slowly adjusting to the rusty cellar.

Seeing that Van is being rather calm for such a predicament,

"Is she going to eat us..?"

He has no idea what to think!

"She said pantry!"

.

"Probably not."

Van's boredom taking hold, at Carl's expense,

"Probably!?"

.

Hours go by in silence.

A ticking metronome of time, from the small drips,

streaming water in a filter through rock.

Carl fidgety, While Van looks like he's sleeping.

The backdoor pounds a drum through the quiet,

snapping to!, Carl is nudging Van for guidance.

Three figures emerge from the soft lit entryway,

only in outline against the shadowed room, stuttering steps..

they're being pushed.

Van doesn't have to see anymore.

His senses can clearly visualize all parties in the room,

and which 'alignment' they are leaning towards.

He listens closely to what's being said.

.

The first one is young.. brash,

making blubbering demands, in stuttered yelps.

The second is middle aged, quiet.. he's just following instruction.

The third figure is just outside the pantry,

but calm, in chivalrous tones,

"You want some advice?.. be very polite."

The door slams shut, a thick lock sealing them in.

.

Cautious steps as they move through the cellar,

he can hear their flailing 'Mummy' movements,

"I can't see anything!"

The blonde headed figure crying out.

.

"Your eyes will adjust."

Van out of the darkness.

.

"Who are you!?"

In quick turns, spinning towards the voice's direction.

.

"Nobody."

Van's response is dripping intimidation,

putting a stop on the kid's footsteps towards him.

"Weul,

Where am I!?.. what's happening!?"

Shaking the words out, his voice is pitchy.

Everything sounds like a yelping dart.

.

"You are in the pantry of Castle Baudelaire."

Van's way too casual answer, as he's folding open an inside jacket pocket,

in a fetch of his cigar sheath.

The other middle aged figure, who just went and sat down quiet,

suddenly sits up tall in attention.

"Was that Kara you're saying?..

the goddess witch?, of those silly old tales?"

Wide smirk across his face,

he's practically laughing at him,

without quite seeing who he's talking to.

.

"She's a Vampire and yes, that one."

Bored of this conversation already,

he's had it so many times before.

The wide brim off, now perched on a raised knee,

with his head back, leaned against the wall.

.

"Do you believe everything you hear?"

The braggart pushing like he's a fool.

"I was born here chap,

and no one's ever seeen heerr,

people love to play pretend, don't they?"

Now leaned in closer, trying to get a good look at Van.

Like he's someone to toy with.

.

"Not your generation bub,

and by the way.. I'm gonna be right here, when you find out."

Van's confidence from the shadows is as strong as a blow.

Leaving the gentleman shrinking, mulling over his ridicule.

.

"Ghost stories!?"

The curly headed blonde shaking and pacing!,

"Are you fools!?.. whatever comes through that door,

we're getting out of here.. right!?"

.

"What's your name, kid?"

Van barks it. Commanding his attention.

Lighting up his last cigar, the two gentlemen can now see his outline.

.

"Wil-helm."

His tones changeover to more respectful.

Still shaking his words out, growing more intimidated by Van's presence.

.

"Not from here are ya?"

He knows the answer.. it's a reminder,

you are not home. You're the stranger here.

.

"No..

I was just visiting some friends,

I don't want any part of this!

I just wanna go home!"

Wilhelm approaching hysterics!,

whatever it takes, is what he's prepared to do.

.

"I'm afraid that's not up to you anymore.

Mistakes were made, weren't they?"

Van takes his victim card, and turns it over.

.

"They started the fight!,

someone was killed, but it wasn't my fault!

Then I just woke up in a black carriage with no windows!"

Wilhelm pleading his case on deaf ears,

"Three people were killed,

a young woman too, child baring."

The sitting quiet one pulls back the wool,

as the full events of the evening start slowly dawning on Wilhelm,

the drunken melee outside the bar,

coming back in blurred flashes of memory.

.

Van has a long history of run-ins with Kara,

and he is well aware, of what atrocities would have to take place,

for someone to end up in that carriage.

"I think you should follow the advice of that nice gentleman, who walked you in here."

Calm in one breath. With a flick of his cigar, crossing legs out in front of him.

.

Wilhelm is dying!

Why are they so calm!, why!

Help me tear down the walls!

Demanding in his head for answers!

.

The front door swings wide.. just a push without lock attached.

Kazandra comes skipping in.

Humming to herself, her steps are pointed,

like she's about to turn a pirouette.

Paying no attention at all to the pantry food.

"Oh, you poor things!, you can't see anything!"

It was almost impossible to see, what she lit the candles with.

It was soo fast in the pitch dark.. but Carl saw.

She raked the stone walls, with the tips of her fingernails.

Light bathing the room now,

all parties, can clearly see what's going on.

.

The sitting quiet one, hits the wall behind him in a lurch!

Sliding up the wall to standing straight,

"Th' strea-king reddress."

He barely gets it out.

Born and raised in the neighboring city of Gideon,

he is all too familiar with the song,

referring to the great War of Gideon.

Where this streaking fast heartless monster..

was wearing the guise of a beautiful silver haired woman.

Dancing through the battlefield, in a blood soaked dress,

leaving blurring lines of destruction.

Her streaking dash, leaves a trail of bodies behind her,

and sometimes a terribly maniacal laugh.

Ripping through shields and plate mail armor like it's paper.

The Butcher's Blade, is the name of the book, that went along with it.

"Yer.. not real.."

He can feel that it's really her.

In total denial, with a double take at Van,

who might as well be winking at him.

.

Kazandra over her shoulder, turns for the curtsy.

"But I am..

and it's exactly that dress!"

Continuing on her way, she wheels in an assorted market cart,

her interpretation, of what human food is supposed to taste like.

Anything that's traditionally green or reds is browns..

and anything that's supposed to be clear is yellows.

"Enjoy!"

Gliding over to Van, Wilhelm watches her lean low,

whisper something in his ear.

Then head out the front door, locking it behind her.

The gentlemen all hearing her, in dancing glee through the halls.

.

Wilhelm bursts to his feet!

"HER!?"

Pointing at the door like she's nothing.

"Are you northerners alll crazy!?,

she's a little girl you idiots!"

All other voices in the room, loud and at the same time,

"NO SHE ISN'T."

.

The lack of support is only fueling his rage,

Checking his right boot.. he feels it, A KNIFE!

"He didn't search me!, look!.. look!"

Brandishing the blade out in front of him now,

presenting the other gentlemen their salvation.

"When she comes back, we grab her!,

and we make her take us outta here!"

.

Van is getting tired of hearing this kid. Fills the cellar with his baritone.

"Hey kid.. he didn't search you because you're no threat to them.. so let me get this straight.

You're going to kidnap or kill.. Kazandra Baudelaire, possibly the most powerful being to ever exist..

and after that, find your way through a very large castle,

with probably, TWO other vampires roaming around,

to wander through the northern forests at night, crawling with Werewolves..

and simply stroll back to Gideon?.. last time kid, follow the advice you were given."

.

"I'll make her give me one of the castle carriages!"

Rolling loud, Wilhelm fires it immediate,

he's not vying for their approval anymore.

The front door latch slides open,

Wilhelm goes quiet as Kazandra comes striding in.

In a move towards Van, her back is to him.

.

Wilhelm seeing the small window of opportunity,

he springs into action!

Grabbing Kazandra from behind!,

with his left arm holding a choke around her neck!,

and right arm jabbing a knife in her side!

"LISTEN TO ME YOU BITCH!, IM GETTING OUTA HERE!,

YOU'RE EITHER TAKING ME OUT,

OR I'M KILLING YOU AND WALKING OUT!"

Every other occupant in the cellar, shuffles feet to the ground,

trying to get as far against the wall as they can possibly go.

Expecting to see a body get absolutely obliterated.

.

She doesn't move.

"Mmhmm.. well isn't, he?

A spirited one.."

Her voice smooth as silk.

Soft and slow patterns in her speech,

she wants to see, how far he is willing to go..

grazing shoulders against him now,

she taunts him further.

"That's a Sapiarch's dress my dear, there's no way..

you would be able to push a knife through it."

In a compelled fidgit!, he brings the knife under her chin!,

with the blade touching her skin!

She leans back on him.. pushing hips forward,

with her arm going for a drape at the scruff of his neck,

turning her face in his nape!

So he has the perfect angle, and can hear her better.

.

"Go on then.."

The flick of her whispering tongue practically brushes his ear!

He almost buckles at the knees!, from the lightning bolt!,

she just sent through his nervous system!

Wilhelm realizing she's calling his bluff,

grits his teeth, whatever it takes.

.

Shutting eyes as he stabs upwards!,

hard as he can!, expecting the worst!

The blade slides the back of his hand..

popping out like a button,

and landing on the floor.

.

"Whoops."

Her turn is un-seeable!, it's too fast!

She has Wilhelm by the neck!, up off his feet!,

carrying him outstretched to the wall.

She sets him down hard, cornered in a wedge,

with his back up against the rocks.

Crouching low to him, she broods inches from his face,

eye to eye.

Kazandra's gaze is now a swirling hypnosis,

of burning pinks over purples, bursting like ink blots in his vision.

Turning in her eyes like a kaleidoscope, then carrying off her lashes,

in a thick glowing haze..

far down the rabbit hole he goes.

Every bit of fear or fight, the desire to flee.. all the anxious contortions in his face,

everything that was once Wilhelm is now gone.

Just a loyal tilt of his head, calm and silent,

staring at her in awe.

.

"Isn't that better?"

No answer. He's making adoring pawing gestures at her,

she grabs a paw.

Turning over his wrist, a deep sigh comes from her,

she can smell it through his skin.

"May I?"

They are soo close, it's an intimate experience.

Her singing whims, are the only thing in this world available to him,

her victims are willing.

A soft hiss in her voice, from raw desire overtaking her,

ruby lips go rolling back..

fully exposing the long exquisite curve of her fangs!,

eyes shut tight.. just as a kiss. She sinks in.

Clamping down hard on his wrist,

easy as burning knives piercing butter.

Wilhelm has no reaction.

He's simply enjoying being in her presence.

.

"WOoooOOOAH!"

As she un-hooks gasping coming off!

Wide-eyed silence.

Stuttering bliss in her breath, barely breathing,

she is heaving in ecstasy.

Like she is the first person to discover Chocolate.

.

In the world of Vampires,

Kazandra is what's known as an Assassin. Speed and hypnosis are their inherent gifts.

Although their speed and power, varies from one to another,

her's is slightly different.

A Vampire simply appearing in front of you, is just a trick.

Human vision cannot follow how fast they are.

They moved too fast for you to see, is all that happened,

they are still here in the mortal's realm.

However when Kazandra 'simply' appears..

it's not that at all, and it's no trick. She has one foot in,

and one foot out, of the mortal's realm.

She IS an Assassin, but then something more.

Her sisters by blood, Kara and Risha, are both Brutes.

The warriors of the Vampire's world.

.

Carl watching Kazandra's rapture, excited giggles escaping her,

"I can't move my eyes from her Van!"

Whispering to Van in overwhelmed confusion,

trying to process all that's happening.

He can't figure out, if he's scared of her.. or in love with her!

"It's her gift, she doesn't always know she's doing it."

Van offering some clarification, getting legs underneath him,

stubbing out his cigar.

.

Carl needs more.

"You mean everyone who looks at her, falls in love with her?"

Now turned on him, coming his way.

This lithe hourglass.. being hugged in thin silken reds,

she swings the hourglass in her glide.

Her eyes still a burning haze of pinks over purples,

a few matching streaks, dancing through her long silver hair.

"Exactly that."

Van nudging him out of it, lifting him to feet.

"Well then how would you know.. who really loves you?,

if it's all just a spell?"

Carl catching the flaw immediately.

.

"You'l have to ask her yourself."

Van gathering affects, seating the wide brim where it belongs.

"It doesn't work on you, does it?"

Carl clearly seeing Van's.. lack of fascination with Kazandra's medusa like allure,

but why?, is he hiding something?

Maybe he's been hiding three 'somethings'!

Carl's mind always has the right questions.

"Nope."

Van playing his cards close against his chest.

.

"It sure doesn't!, and he's one of the very few."

Kazandra eavesdropping her way into the conversation,

still hopping giddy from her discovery.

Distracted in her gestures, she can barely concentrate,

hurrying things along now.

"Kara wants a word."

Leading them out, down the long corridors of her castle,

upstairs to ground level, she can feel Carl's blatant and utter,

confusion over everything he's seen. He's trying to talk to her,

but he doesn't know where to begin.

"Question?"

So she helps him along, over her shoulder rolling a smile.

.

"Only ten thousand in alphabetical order!,

how much time do you have!?"

Carl enamored to the brim,

she's the only thing in the world to him at this moment.

Matching her steps, keeping up her gliding pace,

while watching the floor sweeping drape of her dress,

that seems to reel in behind her,

"It's resizing to fit you.."

Pure honest, his first thought.

.

"Well aren't you a clever one!,

Caarrl was it?.. indeed it is!,

it's more than just a pretty dress."

Opening the side door, that wouldn't normally be closed unless Kara is here.

As they have different tidying ways throughout the castle,

Carl brushes by close as she motions them in.

He has to stop himself from pawing,

"I love your hair!, and yes!, pleasure to meet you."

Seeing upon close inspection, the long braided fall of her locks,

is not actually silver.

It's platinum.. but the soft streaks of dark greys,

rolled together in a crown to the sweeping fall in the back,

make it look silver from afar, he's never seen anything like it.

.

Kazandra and Kara have the same big laugh.

Rolling from the belly, it's infectious, carefree, regal and loud.

Kazandra lets her's out.

"Why thank you!, and it's called a War Braid."

Now right alongside her, studying her subtleties,

her all too easy charm, she's very animated.

Hands are always motoring about her, as she talks with them.

She's rarely standing on two flat feet!, with leans and slides in her movements.

She seems impossibly sweet, but it's not all adding up.

.

"You're not the Butcher's Blade.. are you?"

A horror fiction, not of his usual reading material, he's only skimmed it.

His mind now flooding with all he's ever read,

of any of the books, regarding Baudelaire..

and this is not what's been described of her.

"Not everything is as it seems, and or written."

Her coy response, ignites like a fire under him.

The magnificent sponge of his mind, just begging for all this, grandiose info,

"Did she really steal a Spanish Galleon?,

and sail it across the open ocean as a teenager?"

Now looking for confirmation, on some of her sister's, grand exploits.

.

"Ask her yourself."

Kazandra can feel her presence in the room now,

the three of them slow pacing the marble, to center study.

Kara comes down the main hall stairs.

A double stair case, that makes half circles down on both wings,

from the long ledge spanning the distance, across the top floor.

That opens up to a wide study, with a raised deck in the back,

and skylights overhead.

At one time very lavish, brightly lit and well kept,

has seen several years of neglect.

.

Van and Kara lock eyes first.

Like seeing her for the very first time, all over again.

Years of his repressed memories, come rushing back in.

He wasn't sure if she'd ever come back,

so he buried the thoughts away, out of sight and out of mind.

.

Sparkling pristine,

she is wearing the very divine, Crystal Tower Gown.

It's her usual attire.

Shining in pearl'd whites, it looks like it's glowing.

It is full length, and very proper, with not much exposed skin.

As she doesn't want humans, or anything else for that matter,

examining the Runes, or 'tattoos' that cover her body.

.

The top of the dress makes a smooth shallow plunging vee,

across her shoulders, at collarbone level, hanging weightless.

A teardrop window of reveal, through the bustline,

encircles small diamonds, inlaid around it.

Then runs a linework trim, in small celestial sparkling star patterns,

cinching closed at her waist, with a gradual spread as it reaches the floor.

Hooded sleeves are affixed at her wrists, with small ring clasps underneath,

held in place through middle fingers, giving her hands a partially covered appearance.

Atop the sleeves is a firm hug around her biceps, seating them in place.

Leaving her shoulders bare, with a naked strapless neckline.

The fit is beyond perfect, like it was made for her body, and her body alone.

The dress does not drag on her.. or hang off of her in any way,

it is your softest, favorite comfort blanket, enveloping you tightly.

There is a gorgeous stylized flower pattern, that you can't see..

but only in certain light angles, running up from her hips in a bloom on both sides.

.

The skirt of the dress is even more dramatic than the top.

It is a flat burning sheen of silky whites.

A multilayered floor sweeping drape, with slits along the sides for movement.

Less texturized than the top, it is blinding smooth, where the soft hug around her hips,

gradually lets go.. to a shoulder wide blossoming floor sweep, that's just grazing her toes.

Shining to it's brightest bold white, as it reaches the bottom,

and it never takes a stain.

Her long hair as always, is pinned tight, there are no strays.

Side part rakish over her left eye, with the bun spiral behind her left ear.

And set in place, with her favorite hair pin.

She is a thousand years old, but one could never surmise that.

.

Her entrance silenced the room. And she's quite used to it.

Just the soft pat of her bare feet, reaching the study's bottom floor landing.

She turns to everyone, and gives a full curtsy like a swan.

.

Carl gets it now, there is no more selling it required.

This Kara Baudelaire mythos..

he studies her for the first time, up close.

She is the completion of Kazandra. The end result maybe,

everything about her is bigger, longer.. more defined,

her movements are so purposeful, she seems very calculated.

When Kara goes full stretch tip toe, she is in the sky.

Her long swan's neck is athletic, and just rolls to her shoulders,

in a perfect slope.

It creates a primal stir.. so firm and exposed.

His long scan of her, finally reaches eye contact.

Her cheekbones are to the moon and back!

With large almond eyes, burning purples over whites!

Her ash black brows, are regally high arched to a point,

with a long bend in her lashes, and deep set in vampire's mascara.

Her face tapering down narrow, to a button of a chin,

has the perfect contrasting 'bowtie' to her striking appearance,

she has deep matte red permanently stained, wide smiling heart shaped lips.

With demure tucked fangs behind them, that are never exposed.

And bright, several shades of gorgeous silver hair.

.

Carl's vision isn't quite working anymore.

There's blurs and spots, from taking in all these bold colors around him.

His sensitivity to light spectrums in reds and whites, with silvers in behind them,

he didn't know existed, it's like a new affliction invading his senses.

His perception of what is considered beautiful, and powerful,

is crashing down around him.

Halo's now forming around lights through the room,

the world starts a slow spin..

teetering a few wobbles for reach, while glancing left,

the fuzz takes over.

'Ruby lips, an those teeeth!'

Kazandra sliding in with a bite on her lip!

Seeing the inevitable, and catching his out mid-air fall!

.

Along the west wall of the castle grounds, set back at the halfway point,

then running down the length, towards the rear of the castle,

lay the Baudelaire stables.

Built rugged, with oversized wood beams for the corrals, high walled there are no sightlines,

and sealed tight by sliding iron pole, from the outside.

A crack hits the beams!, as they buckle three times from high to low!,

the dusting plume of neglect following.

"Hey!, that's enough!..

just because she looks like her, doesn't mean she knows how to take care of you, like her!

Now git over here!"

Risha's at her wits end of being kicked around the corral.

Having arrived early in the morning, and dealing with the fending for themselves,

equine situation.

.

The last of the horses to be herded in, still throwing stomping tantrums,

knows the different levels of Risha's voice, and when reaching a certain pitch,

she's not going to play nice anymore.

"Now come see!..

look, loook.. I made your bed for you,

your toys are all there.. go see!"

Finally winning him over, the horse grazes by close, low head slung to the floor.

Takes pause at her side for affection.

Which she is more than happy to provide, reaching an arm under and over,

with a side muzzling hug.

"Who's a good boy!, yes you!.. you are!, that's my goood boy,

it's gonna be fiine now, we're all here."

A few swishes of his tail, as he trots the bed to a grumping side slump.

.

"Sheesh."

Sealing up the stables behind her tight.

Risha heads up the walkway, around the side of her castle,

to the open side door.

Seeing Van and company at center study, she makes her entrance,

and she makes it known. Marching the room like a caped crusader,

"Did you beat-up an old man in my bar?"

Word travels fast in the north.

"That's what I heeard.."

Kazandra giving her passing by hello,

as she slinks off through the corridors,

not quite finished yet with her discovery of Mr. Wilhelm,

heading towards the Baudelaire Alchemy lab.

.

Van who was sliding Carl by the shoulders,

about to lean him up against Kara's desk, lets go for a second.

"I did what now?"

It's always something. Sometimes it's true, sometimes it isn't.

But he can tell she's joking,

"Robbed him of his cane no less."

Even he can't help from laughing at the absurdity of it,

"Can't wriggle out of that one, now can I?"

The two approaching arms length distance,

Van lets out a sigh.

"Soo good to see you Riish,

are you here to stay?"

Reaching out for the hug, her arms are crossed.

.

"I-am, no thanks to you.."

It was icy. But that's just how she is.

He pulls her in anyway, with arms going all the way around,

he buries her in the size difference.

"I had to.. it was going after the kid, the research..

we barely made it."

Candid conversation now, in close.

She's not the hugging type,

but reaches a hand up around his jacket, for a loving scold.

"Look what you did to my courtyard!,

have you ever ridden a horse before?"

Their sassy sibling like rivalry,

is what they like the most about each other.

Their same stoic demeanor, natural leaders and brutally honest.

Even apart for long spans of time, they click right back together,

where they left off.

.

With Kara lying dormant a good portion of his lifetime,

Risha has always managed to stay in contact, throughout the years.

Adding up time spent together periodically over their long lives,

is the equivalent of a human lifetime spent together.

And he's not gonna let her just get away with one,

"You need help to even get up, on your stallion, little one."

Risha's head nestled in about Van's shoulders,

although her presence suggests something much larger.

"I can leap it!, it's not the same thing."

Now taking a perching lean on her desk, at the back of the study,

rocking back on her hands, with legs crossing out straight,

waving him closer.

"It's been a spell hasn't it?"

It was exasperated. She's missed him.

She's missed all of them, and all of this.. she built this castle.

.

"I'd about given in Riish.. thought she was gone."

Moving in next to her, quietly private. Van speaks more freely to her, than any other.

"Kaz had it real bad..

I had to bury a few.. mishaps.

She was getting bitter Rish.. I'd never seen it,

I just hope she's.. ok."

.

Risha the timeless, knows her sister very well,

and she snaps him right out of it,

"A few decades?.. psh,

that girl can dance her way through the dark ages,

and speaking of!, she's been a damn ballet,

all through the castle, all day long!

And I'm betting that's partly due to you!

I have a pile of things to pitch at her!,

just to keep her off my desk!"

Roaring a laugh between the two of them!,

settling into their normal banter, joined at the hip.

"That's my new apprentice Carl, by the way."

.

Pointing at him propped up against Kara's desk,

who is leaned over him, giving small fanning motions.

"O he looks spry.."

Risha leaning into it, both literally and figuratively.

Van barrels his laugh!, it's so easy for her to find it!

"Kara's handiwork."

.

"I figured,

So he got passed your infallible senses did he?"

Risha's smirking nod towards her bright gold broadsword,

that is hung over the desk behind her.

It is called The Huntsman, and searing to the touch,

evil cannot wield it.

"I'm more reliable.."

Looking inside a coat pocket, at his empty cigar sheathe,

"How dare you!"

Risha firing in a laugh!

As Kazandra comes flying in!, creeping like a ghost from the wings,

she knows every nook and cranny of this large castle.

"Are you though!?,

what about that time!, a trespassing, evil vagabond scoundrel!,

was squatting in our study!"

She couldn't resist the team up with Risha,

she's missed it soo much, she's too excited to not be awkward,

and didn't quite pick her battle.

.

"You mean the time where I was right?

and you had no idea what was going on..

is that the time you're referring to?"

Van throws it right back at her, checkmate.

Tilting a sarcastic look over the shoulder,

all she can do is make a scrunched face.

With Risha's giggles in the background,

"You put me in the pantry carriage!"

Kazandra bursting it!, because it's all she's got.

All three in roaring laughter. Years of memories coming back.

Basking in the bliss, of all being in each other's company once again,

it feels.. safe.

.

The Queen of the castle, finally sits her throne.

The first thing you see upon entrance, at the front right,

is her twenty foot marbled, half circle wrap around desk.

With a hutch that climbs the ceiling, and her oversized,

red cushioned chair.

Having picked up the study spotless,

and sliding in a chair for the downed Carl.

"Vaaan."

Gesturing for him to take a seat, she's not angry anymore,

but he can hear the tsk tsk tones in her voice.

Kazandra slinks away again like a cat..

in a check on her concoction brewing in the lab,

making sure seeping times, are just right.

.

"Kara."

With just a nod, respectful as he can be.

"Truly great to see you..

and in your.. not so terrifying state."

He's not entirely sure, how she's going to respond.

His rule of thumb is be honest with Kara, at all times.

Her following giggle is light, chirping forgiveness,

with a singing matter-of-fact.

"You clergy boys, are gooing to get me into trouble one day."

Silky tones, like she's above it all.

"So!.. what do you knooow?"

.

Carl getting a hand up on the chair for support,

Van giving it a turn more towards him,

slowly plants himself in the seat Kara's provided,

cautious eye contact..

"Welcome back!"

She warms the smile over to him,

melting the scared ice, right off of him.

"P.. pleasure, to meet you.. is it Lady Kara?"

He doesn't know what to call her!

"I am indeed the Lady of the manor,

and pleasure to meet you too."

Her ruby smile is intoxicating.. it's inviting.

Carl with full trust, starts exploding his findings on the werewolf encounter.

Going over all the fine details with Kara,

dotting every I and crossing every T.. his research is impeccable.

And Kara finds it very endearing.

.

"They aren't really werewolves at all..

more like parts of different werewolves, re-animated..

and they don't seem to be coherent,

maybe puppeteer'd."

Kara listening in closely. She's had an idea of what's unfolding,

before it ever got to her castle. For in her burial trance,

she is transcending the meta physical world.

But Van saw more.. that she didn't see coming.

"There was something else Kara.

It was old.. I've never seen the presence of evil so strong.

I only saw it for a second..

but it's flighted.. cloaked in darkness,

it smelled foul, like ancient death."

Kara doesn't have the answer.

.

"Quite disturbing..

a summoner of sorts?.. reanimating dead parts of werewolves?

They're coming for this house Van, I can feel it.

With me out of the way, they have access to the land bridge,

they could fortify hordes in the uninhabited reaches.

Using the chokepoint of my castle, they'd never be discovered.

They would easily take Gideon..

and be able to seal off the entire north,

they could go anywhere.. down to Capital City, Freeport..

this is really bad, Van."

.

"This isn't the cute fairytales of the Gideon War,

these creatures are old-world savage.

Human troops bested pathetic Orcs.. banging on swords and shields,

that they know exactly how to fight.

They will have no chance Van.. hordes of these beasts?"

Kara's side-eye catches Kazandra, gliding in fast from the wings,

very purposeful movements. Double fisting wine glasses,

she drops one at Risha's desk, in the raised back of the study.

Then in a move towards the front right, to Kara's desk.

.

Van about to give his take on matters,

Kazandra swings over, sliding the drink in Kara's hand,

smooth, she did it one motion. Rolling her hand open and rolling it closed.

As one might guess.. a beautiful silver chalice,

jeweled ornate, and red to the top.

"Something new?"

Kara can smell it. Her attention span just vanished.

"You'l seee."

She's just ecstatic to see Kara try her new concoction,

studying her reaction.. it's the same.

"WOooOOAH!"

"WooOOOW!" - Risha from the backroom at the same time!

.

Kara can't put it down!, tilting small sips,

with hiccups attached following.

"Oof, that is a heavy spike Kazandra,

can you go make sure he's still aliive pleease?"

Kazandra's bursting laugh!,

"He's fiiine."

Pawing the glass away from Kara, before she can finish..

a few of her playful hand slaps accompanying.

.

"How is it so spicy!?,

that must be Absinthe.. and what else?,

Kazandra it's sOo gOood."

Risha licking lips, while moving towards center study,

coming up just behind her.

"Why thank you, I've had a lot of practice!

It really depends on their.. ability to take in my saucy ingredients!

Trade secrets.. but I always pepper the blood first, it's a catalyst."

Kazandra gloating, as she takes pride in her 'cooking',

Kara steals the glass away!, mid tilt!

With Kazandra returning the playful hand slaps.

.

Carl is trying to figure out, just what in the hell is going on.

"So that's.. Wilhelm from the cellar then?"

His side whisper to Van, not sure how to feel.

"You'l get used to it."

Van's usual nonchalance, like this is nothing new.

Giving short answers, keeping his cards against his chest as he does.

But it's becoming glaringly obvious to Carl,

that these are not strangers, there is history here.

.

A few giggles from the huddle of Kazandra and Risha,

amused by his innocence, slink off together towards the rear study.

"I guess we'll call it the Wil-helm then."

Kara stands up, addressing the room as a whole.

"Well, as I said, I have a plan.. there will be no hiding anymore."

Kazandra clapping from the raised back of the study, listening closely.

Risha with her thousand year old's alcohol tolerance, is still tipping the cup.

.

"I've sent my Ravens out far and wide,

the world needs to know what's happening.

The stakes are much bigger, than just the north.

King Tywin.. must know, he's in the most danger.

So we're going to Gideon first, both him and I will most likely,

need heavy reinforcements, reserves and supplies will not be enough.

Which is why we're going to Capital City after."

Kazandra's, tiny squeaking gasp.. as her chalice rolls the floor.

.

The only human interaction, Kazandra has ever had,

other than the college where she was raised,

is being a haunt in her castle, without being seen. Keeping out, fame seekers

and treasure hunters, bounty hunters and clergy men, zealots and werewolves.

.

Who after word spread like wild fire all over the world,

about this glorious battle in Gideon.

Where a giant silver haired witch goddess, defeated the army with ease.

They all came for Kara.

One after another.. to see if the stories are true, and what trophies may lie in wait.

The religious masses wanted no part in this abomination.

They hatched manipulative, malice lies of Kara, to further enrage the populace that she's evil.

The sisters were cornered in their home, with nowhere to go..

the hardest decision had to be made.

.

"Let them in."

Many years ago.. was Kara's response.

Beside her horrified sisters, at just how far their luck had turned sour.

Upon seeing the small caravans of intruders, ever slowly becoming larger caravans.

Turning into well funded expedition parties, in very little time.

To the inevitable circling army of raised pitchforks,

burning crosses.. chanting their demise, it was just getting worse and worse.

Impossible to just keep turning a blind eye, and waiting for it to get better.

They are going to eventually break down the doors!

"Let them in."

.

Risha knew.

She could see what's coming, there is no fighting out of this one,

speechless, they have all together lost.

A very young Kazandra shrieking mad!,

"We've done soo much for them Kara!, how could they!?"

She had no answers. Rage was her only ally at the time,

"OOuur HOome!, it took so long to build this together!,

we did everything right!, I HATE this Kara!

I will clear our threshold!, every last one of them!,

they won't even see me!"

Trembling in frustration, she wasn't ready to just lie down.

.

Kara knew what must be done.

And feeling Kazandra's sorrow right next to her,

was a belt tightening around her heart.

As they peered down from atop Kara's main tower,

high overlooking, the circling army of raised torches,

and make-shift weapons, swarming their front gates.

"Look at them Kazandra..

can you see them?

Those are not soldiers Kazandra..

they're not Orcs trying to ignite the landscape in pure evil.

They're farmers.. settlers, citizen's of Gideon.. with wives and children."

.

"Misguided they may be.. but if you go out there,

and they see what we can do.. to just farmers..

then we are every bit the evil they say we are."

Kara was dead right.

But Kazandra's young livid tones,

had to endure a lot, for them to be all together.

And in her perception of time, she just got there.

"So we flee an live underground!?, like rats!?"

.

"No.. just me."

This is all my fault, I did this. Kara couldn't even make eye contact,

it was too painful.

Risha was hesitant to get involved, 'This isn't our war Kara!'

But Kara's logic overturned the vote.

'If they happen to win!, they will be on our doorstep next!'

Her brash choices at the time, unhinged talent on the battlefield,

spectacular displays of power, the world just wasn't ready to see yet.

"We're going to let them in.

These doors will be open, this castle will be a deserted haunt.

Nothing more than an old.. foolish.. story.

You see that generation down there, camping at our gates.

They will find nothing.. they won't have any stories to tell,

they won't leave with any fame or riches."

.

"And this is what they will teach, to the next generation,

until they don't care anymore.

Until the interest here just.. fades into obscurity.

And over time.. it will do exactly that."

.

In Kara's preparation of being buried beneath the castle,

she gave her final instructions.

'Let them in'.. does NOT involve the lower levels of the castle.

Humans are not ever to see what lies in the Baudelaire coffers.

Kazandra was instructed to be the ghost of the castle.

Unseen, to deter treasure seekers from the spoils beneath.

By any means necessary.

If by some far reaching luck, you got passed Kazandra,

wandering too far into the depths of her castle,

you didn't get to leave.

.

Risha on the other hand..

doesn't have the same presence as the twins.

Much easier for Risha to just blend in with a crowd.

You wouldn't immediately think vampire!, upon first inspection.

The average bend over backwards being nice to her,

and when she's mean about it.. it makes them want to more.

.

During the War of Gideon, Risha was the presence on the battlefield.

Her orders were the redirect, that essentially saved the city,

and furthermore the entire North.

She was quite literally racing the lengths of the large city,

saving droves of soldiers as she went.

They were screaming her name by the battle's end.

Kara was lying in wait.

For her opportunity to do the most damage.

Turning the tide of the war, in a matter of seconds.

Kazandra was the close. The finisher,

too fast to be seen.. just guesswork.

.

Upon victory, Risha's firm leadership was thunderously praised,

throughout the streets of Gideon for days on end.

Her star was born overnight.

The city's council voted unanimously, naming her General of Gideon's Army.

A key to the city, and her Gideon crested, General's cape.

She reluctantly took up the mantle.

The unwitting celebrity, this is not what she wanted..

she fell into it. But seeing this as a great way to do her part,

and keep all attention away from her castle.

.

She did her part. And over time, grew into the role.

As written from the soldier's memoirs,

Risha and her bright gold Huntsman broadsword,

ruthlessly cleansed the countryside.

Leading Gideon's army, to chase down any and all, of the fleeing Orcs.

And exterminate them to the water's edge of the continent.

There was no hiding from her. No capturing small settlements to flourish,

no burrowing in caves, while breeding numbers.. she will find you.

Months turned into years, and it felt like days,

until not one Orc remained in the North.

.

Barely at the turn of seventy years old,

Kazandra is still learning how to interact with humans.

She was raised completely isolated, in a supernatural college,

where people are chosen to be there.

By a council of time keeping priests named the Sapiarchs.

Where those with special gifts, can hone their skills far beyond,

what they can learn in the mortal world.

.

Kara and Risha are the same age.

Growing up together as children, at the turn of the Dark Ages.

They are approaching a thousand years old,

witnessing heart wrenching times, darkness and plague,

they have lived long enough to see the growing pains of humanity.

Observing culture trends, reach their moral pinnacles, of both poles.

They are the two of them, absolutely stellar, at dealing with humans.

.

But for Kazandra..

the thought of the sprawling populous mass,

of Capital City, where there is no Gideon acceptance of her family,

is making her VERY nervous.

The pound of her heart is almost audible!

It was a painful lesson, that populace can break up her family!

'I could never do that again!'

The thought almost got to her lips!

.

Risha is there for her immediate,

spinning her by the shoulders, eye to eye.

"That's not ever gonna happen again."

She can see the worry all over her face.

"You think she climbed out of her hole for nothing?,

we are all three together, and staying that way,

that's whats important.

And besides.. if they get all rowdy over there in tinsel town,

we'll just kill em."

She's only half joking,

which is why Kazandra finds it more funny.

Her giggling shoulders, had a tiny snort attached.

She idolizes her.. she's never shaken, she's always so calm,

"I missed you so much."

.

"Anything you need Kazandra."

Van offering support, as he's standing up.

The princess gloves are always on around her.

But it's not without purpose,

for she was born with a warning attached,

'A loveless Kazandra, is a true threat upon this world.'

And she has teetered through the boundaries,

Van has seen it with his own eyes.

So they all do what they can, to protect her.

.

She spun so fast, her dress had to play catch up!

That phrase.. he's said it before,

it brings back such a heartwarming memory for her,

it's a miracle she didn't start crying.

"Aww!, big luug!,

I want us all.. to go together, like a big family!"

Going high pitch, in a squeak at the end.

.

"Indeed we are."

Kara rising tall, as Van tips his brim in agreement.

.

.

Chapter 3.

.

The city of Gideon is on alert.

Guards at every post, in twenty four hour shifts,

with check-in registration at all the gates.

The rogue werewolf encounters have been increasing in frequency.

Settlers on the outskirts of town, have had to abandon homes,

or be destroyed along with it, taking refuge within the city's protected walls.

King Robert Tywin II, is the third in line, to sit the throne of Gideon.

He rules with an iron fist, but is fair to both rich and poor alike.

In his citizen's best interest, the curfew is set in.

Clearing streets of the 'Moving buffet' as he calls it,

the city becomes a ghost town, as evening sets in.

In a moment of peace.. enjoying a relaxing dinner with his family.

The children find it annoying, because they don't yet understand,

he pulls away from his duties, clears his mind of toxic politics,

for this daily tradition of time, to spend alone all together.

.

"I've seen herr..

right through the streets of Gideon!"

The younger child of the sisters, very much in her tom-boy ways.

Fisting silverware, while she chomps down food mouth ajar.

.

"You have not!"

The older sister, almost out of her teens.

The studious of the two, well read and speaks like a princess,

because she is one. And keeps up the appearance.

Holding her silverware like a fragile pen,

with graceful dainty bites.

.

"I have, to!

She's not as tall as they say..

and she was.. clumsy!"

The little one giggling now, she has a firm recollection,

she saw something.

"She cloaks herself from hood to toe,

but I saw her silver braids hanging out!"

.

"She doesn't wear braids Soraya!,

and she wouldn't sneak around like a drunk either!

Father!, can we teach her not to lie pleease!"

The older one knows these stories.

And doesn't appreciate her teasing ways about Kara.

.

All sitting in their extravagant dining hall,

the large turtle shell table, only seated halfway on one end.

His wife Helena to his right, his trusted royal court advisor seated next.

And his two daughters, Zansa and Soraya seated to his left, in order.

"Children..

haven't we had this discussion before?

There will always be imposters Soraya,

can we have one night please?, without a bickering match over Baudelaire."

Tywin discouraging the discussion as usual,

not entertaining the topic one way or another.

However being the only one in the room, who has actually met Kara,

and set down with her in person,

his opinions are taken as final.

"What's an impos-ter?"

Soraya with elbows on the table, playing with her food now,

more than eating it.

.

"A FAKE!"

Zansa glaring it down her shoulder.

Soraya zings it back!,

"IT WAS HER!, I know it was!"

They say children are more attuned to the supernatural,

and she's in the oh-so stubborn phase.

.

"SORAYA!"

All voices.. except the royal advisor,

at the same time!, scolding out.

.

The knock at the dining room chamber doors, as if on cue.

The king's messenger calling through,

as Tywin sends his advisor over.

Getting a glance at what's been delivered,

he calls Tywin over.. instead of bringing the letter to him.

A gesture clearly for privacy first, discretion.

The parchment is old. Thick grainy paper,

that's never used anymore.

The rubber stamp is half dollar size,

in bold maroon with a KB on it stenciled in cursive,

with a large curling K.

.

Pale to the face. Tywin is too baffled to react quickly,

he knows exactly who it is.

Grief hits his heart first, a physical pain in his chest.

He retreats to deep thought,

she did so much, for everyone.. and she asked nothing.

'She protected the very landscape you all live under!'

And yet she was hunted into obscurity, for a trophy.

He gave this speech on deaf ears,

on more than one occasion. The modern world's sensibilities,

weren't sympathetic to this northern witch's story,

they wanted the fame.

.

It still turns his stomach to the day, thinking about it.

He flips open the letter to see Kara's gorgeous handwriting.

It reads - Requesting an audience with Lord Tywin and the council.

Promptly at sundown. Lady Kara Baudelaire.

Zansa stealing the look over his shoulder, has to grasp him for balance,

"It can't be.."

Tywin knows very well, how much his daughter adores these books,

"It is."

Now sharing the letter with her side by side,

so she can read the note in full view.

"She doesn't pick up the quill!"

Tears forming fast!, it's definitely her!, no one could copy this.

"Look.. it's all one line."

Father and eldest daughter, have a long moment.

He shares the same appreciation, he just doesn't always show it.

.

The Baudelaire carriage arriving is nothing short of spectacle.

A six horse carriage with Clydesdale sized monsters.

All of them are midnight black and thoroughbred ripped muscle.

Their shaking manes are the fires of oranges and reds,

with so much torque beneath their blood tipped hooves,

they're not so much moving along the ground, but turning the world beneath them!

There are rumors about the speed of this carriage.

From the very few who've seen it, it's a speech, a soft spur of motivation from Kara.

The result being a thunderous explosion of rush!, from standstill to full sprint!

Skipping gallops and trots, all together!

Where they say the power of these monsters dressed as horses,

pins unsuspecting passengers to the back wall.

Inquired on occasion, just what she's actually saying to them,

"Well I offer them their favorite food of course, if we get there very quick."

.

The carriage itself looks more like a Galleon than a carriage.

The cabin is thick oaks, that are rolled wide for room through the middle.

Taller in the back, it's shaped like a wedge for downforce on the wheels,

with separate rooms and sleeping areas.

There's windows but you can't see them..

tinted flush, matching the glossy stained blacks of the walls.

There is a driver's bench, but rarely someone seated there.

Pulling up to the King's palace, Lord Tywin and his court,

have all gathered neatly in a line.

Helena, just next to him, Soraya and Zansa next of her.

.

The air is uneasy.

Other than Tywin, a very young man during the war of Gideon,

few people in present Gideon have ever actually laid eyes on Kara.

Her plan executed.. she is a myth.

It leaves people to decide for themselves whether she is friend or foe,

and everyone has an opinion.

The double doors swing open from the carriage,

steps lowering attached to the doors, in a folding apparatus.

.

A barefoot pats the first step..

and Zansa is dead fixed on her.

She notices there's a fading white, intricate tattoo on her foot,

hard to make out at this distance.

She reaches the landing and Zansa is struggling to take it all in.

The white dress she's wearing is blindingly beautiful.

Looking closer straining to see, another tattoo on her hands,

a barb down her thumb.. it's so faint she can't see where it goes.

But there's more, concealed by the hooded sleeves of her dress.

These markings have never made it to writings,

Zansa is breaking out in cold sweats, feeling like she's part of the discovery.

.

Kara is just steps away.

The ground is a cesspool of filth on the cobblestones.

Gaping her mouth wide, she can't believe what she's looking at!

The muck is not sticking to Kara's feet,

it's just gliding off.

Kara is now parallel with Zansa. She is right there.

'She's warm!, I can feel it coming off of her!,

she's not some cold undead beast!'

Zansa's racing mind!, with her body in shut-down!

Two more sets of feet make way down the stairs,

one of them are soft steps, almost imperceptible.

This was unexpected.

.

Risha reaches the landing with Kazandra slinking in behind,

instinctively they take formation on Kara's wings.

They're not entirely sure, what's going to happen.

Risha on her left just beside,

and Kazandra on her right, a footstep behind.

Tywin coming in for introductions,

calms the air, with his warm genuine smile.

Leading with Helena, Kara engages her conversation graciously.

.

Zansa is now within grabbing reach, of all three of them.

And she's thinking it over!

She immediately recognizes Risha.

The General of Gideon's army is no stranger.

Rarely making visits throughout the years,

she's only seen her from afar, trotting the grounds on horseback,

or racing off for another assignment, she's always spread thin.

And it's by her own instruction.

Tywin's father at the time, was very sympathetic to their up-turned fate.

And did what he could, to try and help salvage their situation.

He considered the only reason he was still alive, is because of her.

.

The Gideon's record hall, and libraries,

have thee youngest, and most dedicated curator,

that they have ever seen in Zansa.

Her voracious appetite for reading, keeps her up long hours into the night.

It's really all she ever does.

At barely the age of walking, a bedtime story, grew up with her.

A long series that crosses over into several other books.

Held so dearly, she reads them over and over again.

Even gaining different perspective, as she ages along with the stories.

And seeing Risha standing so close..

her imagination, and glimpses from afar, didn't do her any justice.

.

Her General's cape is ink black, with the choker chain in solid gold.

The Gideon's army, Striking Angel crest in bright gold on her back.

Hiding an exquisite broadsword, beneath the cape,

just the hilt showing, with a star pattern cross guard, gold tipped.

Her charcoal chain sleeves underneath look like second skin,

made specifically to her proportions.

The warrior's tunic she's wearing is impeccable,

she can't see the stitches, the materials are soo fine.

Zansa's long scan of her from top to bottom, getting lower..

those boots!

Like two sheaths of Obsidian coming together!, in a tight grasp of her calves,

flared like small wings at the top, and above the knee!

Buckles affixing the two sheaths together, in a row going vertical,

roll with a soft click to her movements, matching her stride.

.

Now seeing Risha introduced to her younger sister Soraya,

her painted face.

No one wears a lip that dark! And it only works on her,

because of that Raven hair!, that contrasting compliments it off her ivory face.

The smirk in her eyes looks permanently chilled from the cold air,

the arch in her dark brows is rolling soft.

Her bottleneck bangs are to die for!

Just a few strays and lazy 'esses' coming down,

from her messy perfect!, tousled tie in the back.

The introductions now moving along,

the other figure that was holding back, brushes passed her.

.

This new figure is totally cloaked from head to toe,

but she has her suspicions. She's far more versed to this family,

than your average passer-by.

And her sister's argument at the dinner table, is on repeat in her mind.

Just a couple of eyes poking out, behind a shadow, and looking down.

That's all she gives you.

She's barefoot also, and her steps are skippy.

Like she's in her own, happy little world under there.

Zansa is locked in.

Studying this figure un-blinking, waiting to see more.

Right as a little wind gust..

a northern icy draft coming in from behind them,

catches the bottom corner, parting open the outer layer,

it peels back juust enough,

SHE SAW IT!

.

A facade!, underneath is no commoner's garb!

A deep blood red corner, bathing bright colors, she's not used to seeing.

With silver lining the cornered point, in intricate fashion.

She only saw it for a second.

But clear to her, that was the bottom multilayered floor drape,

of a very special dress.

She even knows the song,

"The streaking red dress."

Barely a whisper, she just mouthed it in her head.

But it's enough.

.

Kazandra turns on her from above!, as she goes rigid!

These are her childhood heroes!

Her teeth are clenched!, she's stiff as a board!

'THAT'S #$%^& KAZANDRA!, AND SHE'S STANDING RIGHT THERE!'

Kazandra breaks ranks, and gets right low to her,

eye contact. As she's pulling down the mask of her lips,

"Exactly that dress!.. would you like to seee?"

.

"Yeess!"

Because what else would you say!, she barely got it out!

Gasping in a stutter!

Kazandra now inches from her..

something new, her smell, she's peppermint-y!

Not a mention of it in writing.

Zansa would have never known this tidbit,

she's getting the insider's information. And it's giving her small heart attacks!

Kazandra folds open her patina cloak,

even that's a facade, it's pea coat style buttons are dark bejeweled,

it's merely made to look worn.

Revealing full lengths of her Sapiarch's gown underneath,

reaches down for one of the outer layer's silver points,

and brings it in close, for Zansa's inspection.

.

"It's soo beautiful.."

Her most honest thought coming to words,

as she's feeling the different fabrics, of linework silvers,

and the sheen of silky red, that just doesn't feel man-made.

Kazandra's singing matter-of-fact,

"Every single strand, is the finest ground mithril fiber,

it's totally indestructible!

And it will never change it's shape, or shade,

as it's constantly resizing itself to fit only me!,

forever and ever!"

.

"I want one!"

Zansa spellbound by what she's hearing!,

she's getting light in the head!

Trying to comprehend having a chit-chat!, with this mythical creature,

that she adoores!, that just jumped out of the book!

And she's so sweet in person!

The book series would have you believe,

that she's a raging heartless monster!, that no one can talk about!

Fact and fiction are crashing together.

.

"Well maybe you will get one!

Strange things happen, every single day!

You didn't think you'd be standing next to Kazandra Baudelaire,

when you woke up this morning, and that happened!"

Arrogant sounding as it is, she's right.

And her chirping sweet tones, and gestures,

easily disarming, find their way to Zansa's loud laugh.

.

That Kara hears and turns around.

Time goes to a crawl, as Zansa watches her..

her glide is slow but covers the ground.

She's soo tall in that floor length dress, she is just effortless.

She moves in low, brushing shoulders with Kazandra.

.

"Well what's your name?"

Kara's angel voice, almost motherly.

She's always been fond of Tywin's family, one of her few human allies,

she's just jubilant!, to see his family now has two daughters.

"Zansa!"

Blurting it out!, she couldn't wait for it!

Shooting her hand out for the shake,

she immediately remembers from her books,

that Kara, does not let people touch her skin.

She pulls her hand back quick!,

with Kara bursting it out in a laugh!,

"How do you know?"

.

The little scrapper one Soraya, barging into the conversation,

"She reads your books every single night!, all night long!"

.

The twins are enamored. They love them already,

she is the Princess of Gideon, and the two of them are soo adorable.

The city they once knew so well, now has sisters in it's Royalty court.

Without hiding affection at all,

"Which one is your favorite?"

At exactly the same time, in the same singing tones.

.

"The Southern Seas Volume 1!.. is it true?, is it all truue!?"

Firing it out for confirmation!, because there it is!, in the flesh!,

and standing right in front of her!

.

Kara turns her smile over gorgeous, as she moves in close,

"Actually.. they left parts out!

I'll tell you the whoole stoory sometime."

The sweetest thing. She is happy to inform her.

Zansa is now gone off the rails, and incapable of speech.

There's soo many questions she has!, but none seem good enough!

So she's just gonna stand there smiling instead.

.

Kara rights herself tall, in a turn,

seeing Risha waving her over.

The court begins ushering in, noblemen and advisors along with townsfolk,

all funneling to the Council Hall doors.

Towards the back of the filtering crowds, and catching up from behind,

Soraya is beaming looks at her sister.

"You were only half right!"

Zansa giving her due credit.

.

Gathering inside, the auditorium is packed standing room only.

Quiet shuffling, nervous whispers, as everyone is eagerly awaiting what Kara has to say.

Risha scanning back's of the crowds, keeping a perimeter,

towards the rear and blocking the exit.

Kazandra staying right in her shadow, reaching to hook an arm,

fiddling with her hooded cinch, pulling on it tighter.

Even to Risha, these are mostly strangers here.

"Just split, if it goes bad."

Totally straight-faced.

"WHAT!?"

Her whisper went way too loud!, heads turned!

Kazandra almost jumped when she squeaked it.

.

Risha reining her back in,

"I'm kidding!, she's so good at this..

just watch, she's gonna hypnotize all these people,

I've seen her do it a hundred times."

.

"She can have it."

Barely a whisper, underneath a shadowed hood,

"Agreed."

In a scoffing laugh, she still heard it.

.

Kara's entrance is deafeningly silent.

Introduced by King Tywin, at center hall,

she glides the room at jogging pace, without bob in her step.

To a full elegant curtsy.

"Good evening, everyone."

Her most gracious tones.

"I see.. so many new faces, but they're not new..

your grandparents and I, defended this very hall.

We celebrated our victory together..

we were once allied so strong.

When the central armies came for me,

It was your great King that held them at bay."

.

She layers her voice thick, it's bouncing the walls now.

"They would have taken everything from me.

My home, my family..

but now they're coming after your home.

And this new army.. they won't settle for defeat,"

stirring through the crowds..

-"What are they!?"

A yelp from the back!

-"I have nothing left!, they get over the walls!"

Another yelp from the crowd!

-"Ther Wer-wolves ya fool!"

Side talk now scattering through the room.

.

"LET HER SPEAK."

Tywin silences the room like a gavel.

Kara slows her speech patterns softer, she gave them a little too much,

this is not rehearsed, it's all from the hip.

"This is bigger than the north.. this will be worldwide.

And they are most certainly not, werewolves."

She spots at least two in the crowds,

as your average werewolf is a proud citizen, raising a family.

Just suffering a horrible affliction, and undeserving of linked persecution.

"I am not here to bring you fear..

I think we've all had enough of that.

I'm here to give you hope."

The room is hanging on her words now.

.

"Does anyone remember the gold and spice runs?,

we were once all so prosperous..

our trade went all the way down to freeport.

I intend to rebuild everything."

Slow and firm at the ending, shuffling from the crowds,

they've been closed off economically for so long.

.

"There is a new king that sits the throne in Capital City.

He was surprisingly receptive, to our meeting in person.

Perhaps this is a new era I've awakened in."

-"What if it's a trap!?"

A shout from the side!, as Risha eyeballs him.

.

"If it's a trap, then Capital City will be mine."

She silences the crowd again.

"But I assure you it is not,

and when I come back from forming this allegiance,

we will have the full support of the central armies."

She digs a few spurs in the ends of their seats,

"Your children!, won't have to fight this war!,

I will reinforce both our kingdoms from rampart to rampart!

And purge the lands in between!"

A few cheers from the crowd now,

excited claps with beloved tones of her name.

.

She gets emotional on the close and it's real, down a few octaves.

"I love the North.. as you all do..

It is our home.. and it's time to fight for it!

I will stop at nothing but die!, never will Gideon fall!"

'I love you Karas' are bellowing through the room.

.

Walking out of the assembly court, the air is easy.

Light mood, and side by side, Tywin and Kara are the last to filter out.

Catching up on what seems like ages, pointing out towers that fell,

and rebuilt stronger. Where this happened, and remember when that happened.

Taking a walk down memory lane together, on a perfectly clear, moonlit evening.

Tywin personally escorting her to carriage, just like old times.

.

Kara has so few human allies, Tywin is her most cherished,

she had one request. And he obeys it like northern law.

Kazandra was never to be mentioned, she is never to be seen.

Kara would die. If Kazandra had to live the same brutal life as her's and Risha's.

Ducking and dodging the glory hounds for decades,

constantly looking over their shoulder.

Or at worst.. become the very evil described.

Which is why the world only knows her as a hooded cloak,

only a small handful left alive, have ever seen the red dress.

.

Tywin fulfilled his role to the T

Never swaying in his argument, keeping control of the narrative.

The only thing you saw was Kara, and you mistook it.

There is no Kazandra, get that name off your lips.

The red dress became nothing more than a unicorn.

There was no freedom of speech, in discussing that name.

It was met with suppression and ridicule, to bury it among the rafters.

Even when the published, cult popular book, of The Butcher's Blade,

showcased her streaking like a spectacle, through the War of Gideon.

The name Kazandra is never actually mentioned.

Although the author was crafty, and clues were left hidden in the text.

.

"That's gone well hasn't it?"

The two having a stop-an-chat, just at the front row of her horses.

Tywin's usual stoic voice, takes on younger nuances around her.

"Only superb!"

Kara with figurative skips in her glide, feeling her plan come together,

just as she envisioned it.

"Our new, younger council, seems quite fond of you,

how do we feel about capital city though?

A boy will take the throne, you think?"

Tywin referring to her guidance, but only in private.

.

"The king's illness is severe, a fossil of the old ways,

a tyrant.. I've met him, he won't be missed.

But the apple fell far from the tree,

the child is nothing like him.

The prince will take over Bobby, I can feel it..

and I mean everything."

She is the only person in the world that can get away,

with calling him Bobby, because that's what they were to each other.

He was the little prince Bobby Tywin, and she was big-bad Kara.

.

"If you're looking for some reassurance,

he quoted one of my books."

She giggles the ending, as Tywin bursts out laughing!,

"Well I see you have your work cut-out for you as usual,

but I must retire.

My children are in no doubt, standing in their beds waiting for me."

"They are adorable!"

Kara firing it in.

.

"I've prepared your usual suite for you, should you desire."

Tywin's gracious offer, explodes the reaction out of her,

"O Thank you!, uh the memories,

that will do nicely."

She curtsies the ending,

as he returns the bow on cue.

"Truly a pleasure Kara."

Solid eye contact, and he knows not to extend a hand,

"Likewise!"

Chirping it back immediate.

.

An absolutely massive midnight black muzzle,

with a small white diamond in it's fur pattern,

goes in a drag up her shoulder, taking a resting cuddle against her neck.

"I missed you too."

Returning the affection, she goes right for the ear scratch,

then a few more itch relievers under his chin.

Watching Tywin saunter off in his usual manner,

she catches the giggling profiles of her sisters,

from the adjacent street corner, on approach to the horses.

They appear to be the same height at this distance,

even though they're not. One is always dangling off the other.

They are lost in their own world,

playing a game, that no one from here knows.

.

Well at least it's a game to one of them,

"I'm gonna get it one day!"

She barely hears it.

Seeing Kazandra get her hands slapped away,

from the fabled broadsword beneath Risha's cape.

So large it doesn't look made for her,

sitting diagonal across her back.

"Yea yer gonna get it alright."

.

A small thin flask passing between them,

"The sooner you take off that veil..

the easier it's going to be."

Risha trying to ease her out of so many years of hiding.

"Well then.. ther gonna stare at me!,

aren't they?.. maybe i'm just being paranoid."

Passing the flask to Risha, she starts unclasping a few buttons.

.

"Nope.. it's not, they are..

but not half as bad as witch goddess over there,

you'l get used to it."

Now passing mid pack of the horses,

a sudden clopping of hooves, the manes start swishing.

Muzzles all start moving Risha's direction.

"I can hear you.. y'know."

Kara making a lounge out of the cabin stairs,

beckons an ivory point, at what's been passing between them.

Even for her large build, Kara's ears are pronounced,

they are rolled back against her scalp, and sweeping upwards.

Partially concealed by her spiraled bun.

.

"Heloo darlings."

Risha on the receiving end of nuzzling headbutts from the monsters,

whispering their names, she greets each one of them personally.

Moving down the line, at the cabin,

about to take a leaning spot next to Kara,

Kazandra catches up from tow, fiddling off her cloaked veil,

"Well aren't you the popular one!,

they loved you in there!, I may never wear this raggedy cloak aga-AAHHK!"

.

Scooted from the rear and dragging toes!,

she goes sprawling face first!, into Risha's back!

Making a domino of the three!, with Kara leaning for the Wilhelm pass.

The bump sending it from Risha's hands, overturning it,

going in a dive down Kara's bust, OPEN.

Risha heard the click from her jaw it was so sudden!

This special breed of horses, must be twenty four hands high!

And one got low.. giving her a sweeping muzzle shove to the backside!

.

"Kazandra!"

Kara immediately going fishing!

A few dark red beads in a run off her dress,

she folds it out of her cleavage backwards.. losing even more in the turn.

A small play growl coming out of her, as there's now a cold stream to her naval.

.

"It's not my fault!, it's always that one!"

Covering her backside with both hands!,

in a skip to the other side of Kara.

.

"He just wanted you to say hi!,

didn't yoou?.. aww Gibby yer such a good boy,

who's a goood booy?"

Risha getting the aftermath nuzzles,

rewarding his behavior!

Kazandra swears the horse's neighing sounds like laughter.

.

Kara and Risha are master equestrians.

There really is no human measure for their skill.

They've had centuries of bonding experiences, raised entire generations of new breeds.

Like a family tree forking, they've had the equivalent of great great grand kids in their stables.

Risha is so good.. she can ride standing on one leg, keeping the balance of a tea cup on her head.

Kara is a mad scientist.

And responsible for the seventeen hand shining white thoroughbred,

one of the most popular breeds in the world!

Kazandra who was raised in a tiny, isolated.. pristine palace of learning,

has never caught on to horseback, she finds them smelly,

and rude.. "He bites my Butt!"

.

Bursting laughter from the girls!, with Kazandra joining in last.

There is an insider's joke, that they are all aware of,

within the inner circles of the college, Kazandra is known as the 'cheekier' twin.

If you were to put Kara's swan ballerina frame in a figurative press,

certain parts would just become more, horizontal.

.

The cabin doors wide open, and lounging on the stairs,

the three of them recapping the evening.

Kara is getting flashes of DeJaVu, it's so surreal, them being all together again,

and having a nightcap at the foot of their family's carriage.

"That went almost too well didn't it?,

I figured Risha would drag at least three out.

Tywin is a doll!, he kept our suite for us y'know?"

Wide smiles from Kara, catching the gabs quickly,

from Kazandra's very strong concoction.

.

"Hah!, there's always next time.."

Risha's cackling coming out,

"I luv that suite!, our little bobby, grew up to be the greatest king in the north!

Speaking of little kings..

did the new beau in Cap city really go suite on you?,

or was that just part of the speech?

I don't know if you remember last time..

but they were pulling off table legs!,

and grinding down wooden stakes out of them!"

Now exceeding the limits of her vast alcohol tolerance.

Off balance, with a lean on Kazandra for the pass,

the manner of please take this away from me.

.

Kazandra's 'keke' laugh through her teeth,

"Wooden stakes.. what is that?,

who thought of that anyway?.. I don't get it!?

What exactly is that going to do, other than pick my teeth?"

Kazandra hooking an arm, but more for steadying this time.

Risha is chained and sword'd, she is not light of weight.

"They'd need a boat mast for yer choppers."

Her jealous nudge, she loves them.

Kazandra has the largest canine fangs of the sisters.

The longest exquisite curve inwards, to a diamond cutting point.

She's been wearing them since birth, growing up along with them.

And she feels no need to hide them away, as Kara does.

Just by the way she speaks..

posture tilts of her head, the way she smiles.

Covering them up in her speech patterns,

instinctively Kara hides them.

.

Where as Kazandra has no qualms whatsoever,

in front of whomever. Rolling ruby's all the way back,

and brandishing full fanged mannerisms!

All the time!

"He quoted us.."

Kara interjecting, trying to get the last few sips,

a hiccup attached following, with a scrunched tick escaping.

.

"He did not!"

Risha blurting out!, that is game-changing news!

.

"He did!, he called us Sirens!,

and said he wishes he could sail with us one day!"

An edified introduction, like taking candy from a baby.

.

"Aww!, they love that story don't they!?, it feels different Kara."

Risha can sense it in the air.

The fear of her, has died with the last generation,

they are curious now.

"I luv that story too!"

Kazandra squeaking it, in a lazy scoot up the stairs,

not quite on par with their age of tolerance,

looking for a landing on the pillows.

"Tywin's daughters are angels by the way,

do they remind you of anyone?"

Over her shoulder, with bursting laughter from the girls!

"Zansa IS Kara isn't she!?,

and the scrappy one is you!"

Risha belting it loud, it's so obvious.

.

"I adoore them. And who knows what the future might bring,

speaking of.."

Stumbling up the stairs, to Kazandra who is splayed out face first,

in a drape across the plush cushions.

"The children don't really know, how dangerous it is Kazandra,

please keep an eye on them?"

.

"Was.."

Out after the S.

Turning over in maroon satin throw blankets,

already mumbles coming from her sleep.

Kara gives her privacy, closing the doors, snuffing out lanterns.

Her and Risha take a drunken stroll through 'their' ghost town city.

Care-free, making jokes as they go, while the world around them is shuttered in.

"I'd feel bad for it.. if one snucks it's way in now."

"Yea becuz u play with yer food!"

Their eastern penthouse overlooking the seaboard,

is a pearl atop castle stones.

While Castle Baudelaire was being constructed, this was their home.

And they can't wait to go see it. They're at a wobbling, jogging pace.

.

.

Chapter 4.

.

Zansa's small personal carriage, sits just outside the western gates.

On the outskirts of Gideon, parked along the road.

With her driver and armed guard on wait.

The afternoon sun burning away on the horizon,

three children, just a short walk from the carriage,

in a small gardener's field, up against the forested treeline.

With her house mastiff 'Babe', doing bird chasing laps around the perimeter.

Are all picking berries, and delectable fruits, for the big dinner tonight.

.

"She's not reeally pretty y'know?"

Sneering Geoff, as they're all gathering baskets closer together.

One of her neglected nephews, in-bred, and outright ignored.

Who had nothing better to do, but be a tag-along with the Princess.

And try to woefully win her affection.

.

"She is too!"

Soraya who is hip high!, to him,

dropping her groceries, jabbing a point up at him.

Zansa immediately separates the two.

As seeing on many occasion before where this is going to go,

the two are constantly at each other's throats.

"O shuttup Geoff!"

Dismissing him, it's his normal behavior,

pulls Soraya alongside her, and increases the distance between them.

He closes the gap immediately.

.

"It's true!, I heard.. it's a spell, just a dumb illuusion..

and she really looks like, a scabby old corpse!,

with probably maggots coming out of her eyes!

I bet you nothing is true about her!"

Geoff is going above and beyond the call of duty today,

seeing their excited, adoring tones talking about her,

he can't wait to try an bring them down, to his miserable existence.

Two hazy firing eyes flashed above him, from the treeline.

A soft hiss the kids couldn't hear.

.

Soraya turns on him again!,

but this time Zansa takes charge.

"You PIG! You're just a little barnacle Geoff!

No pretty girl will ever have you!

So the only option you have left, is to be mean!"

Like a series of blows, she just leveled him.

The same effect as a punch, she got him right on the nose.

.

Geoff's father is much higher statured than Tywin.

He is first in line to be a King, even ruling lands outside of the North.

And he's not going to be spoken to like that,

by the two 'weird' girls that hide out in Gideon forever.

Without a hint of warning!,

the backhand flies right from his ego!

With a loud leather SLAP!

Zansa's never been struck before!,

gasping out!, she falls back to her rump, with arms bracing the fall!

.

The furred haze of bounding mastiff shoulders,

barreling through the garden..

her loyal dog Babe, was in-action at the sound of the slap.

Crushing down hard!, like it's snapping carrots!

It gets hold of the same hand that slapped her!

Geoff screaming out!, as he rips his hand away!,

raking teeth gouges through his gloves from the wrench!

.

Seeing blood trails..

trickling through the gouges, covering his hand now.

Furious Geoff.

His FENCING HAND!, you stupid beast how dare you!

As young as he may be, he takes his sword fighting very seriously.

He trains every day, and this is months of setback.

Draws his sabre in off-hand!,

while the girls frantically grab on the dog!, pulling it backpedal!,

"Stop it Geoff!, get away from us!"

Crying out loud!

.

But Geoff isn't listening anymore, a debt must be paid.

In raise of the sabre over his head,

"An assault on the king's family, is the same as an assault on the king himself."

Taking aim at center mass of the large dog, arm raised now behind his head,

he brings it down hard!, with shutting eyes, for a quick bitter end.

But it goes nowhere.

Like a bad dream, his muscles couldn't compel it one inch.

.

In the speed that which only Kazandra Baudelaire can move,

she caught the blade bare handed!, still raised behind his head!

Then absolutely flattens him!

By taking the sabre, and sinking it in the ground behind him.

So fast he couldn't let go!, the force of her backwards pull-down!,

splashes him flailing on his back!, she did it all in one motion!

She then stomps a barefoot on the hilt,

burying the sabre in earth.

.

"Why you LITTLE!.. Snot-nosed!, Tenderfooted!, Lemon-eating BRAT!"

Eyes on fire!, as she's growling him down on approach!

He tries to get legs underneath him, but far too scared to hold him!

Now scrambling in crab walk, backing up from her,

"Kar.. Ka-ra?"

The only words he can muster.

.

"I am not Kara.. but if I was.. I would riip your tongue out!"

Hissing her matter-of-fact!,

she scrunches his entire shirt front, twisting in her strong grip,

and picks him off the ground one handed!, off his feet!

Now eye to eye with her six foot tall frame!

As she's pointing a smokey tipped talon at his EYE,

"If I EVER!.. catch you anywhere!, near these girls again!"

He's peeing.

.

"Blaeech!, eewww."

She drops him like a soiled rag in the heap.

Glancing over her shoulder, the girls are in total shock.

Backing up from her, trying to process just how fast that all happened.

It was ferociously precise, applying exactly enough to not hurt him,

but still get her point across.

The house mastiff Babe, is nowhere to be seen.

.

Clearing away her murderous face, this is not what she wants.

She skips her way in.

Bubbly bounce, moving right into a teapot.

Crooking posture with a hipped hand,

her other arm outstretched, and twiddling fingers Geoff's direction.

"Was that guy bothering you?"

Really trying to break the scared ice off of them,

"Yer SOo fasst!"

It's working, the scrapper Soraya exploded it,

for the first time in her young life, she can feel a sisterly bond forming.

It's so relatable now, seeing live what Zansa's always raving about.

"I try."

Kazandra's smooth wink.

.

Zansa who is still grasping for words,

"Were you, watching us?"

Hesitant, not wanting to offend,

and still not coming on approach to her.

.

"Maaybe.. and what are you dooing out here?

It's almost dark..

you hear of the ongoing, nighttime werewolf, forest problem going on?"

Twiddling her fingers some more, and laying on the sarcasm,

the little ones can't help but start giggling.

.

The children, cannot see this. Or hear it.

The driver with armed guard, standing in wait at their carriage,

have no idea either.

They are NOT alone.

Kazandra is merely playing it, very coy. Giving no hints whatsoever.

She can hear them. She is part of the forest.. she can see them.

Spending soo many years as a haunt, nothing escapes her infallible senses.

Perfecting them over the years, with long spans of practice,

as curiosity and boredom during her banishment,

led her on several skulking runs, where she would infiltrate Gideon.

Using the forest as her sanctuary.

.

With her senses feeling through the forest,

her bare feet on the ground,

she's picking up the bustling of supernatural bodies.

Green eyes through the thickets, pinging from different directions,

and they are circling closed like a noose.

.

Inky blues coming over the horizon now,

Kazandra quickens her control of the situation.

Still no change in her tones or behavior,

there is no need for alarm yet.

She knows her masterful steps,

in the supernatural game of chess, they are playing at distance,

are far ahead of their shambles.

"Come along."

Winging the girls in, as a quiet for once Geoff,

goes in a pull for his sabre, to unseat it from the ground.

.

With subtle motivation in hurrying their pace along,

her escort to the carriage stops short, the other one.

Kazandra peers back over a shoulder,

to see Geoff getting nowhere on that sabre.

She doesn't really want to help him, but they need to go.

A bloody massacre of flying werewolf parts,

with screeching howls of terror, echoing through the night!

Is NOT!, the traumatizing image, she wants the children to have of her!

.

Walking over she squeezes a toe under the hilt,

and in one motion, rips it to her waiting hand.

With a fast ambidextrous flip from hand to hand,

she runs an impressive fan behind her back,

in a figure eight with the point.

Rising tall in a stretch, the sabre goes dancing across the back of her shoulders,

while head ducking it forward, it passes whirling behind her neck.

Spinning flat down her arm, to a resting neutral position on her fingertip!

"Perfectly balanced."

Flings it right in his sheathe without looking.

.

Geoff feeling like he just became man, discovering woman,

is silent, and in total awe of her.

Having the utmost respect for swordplay,

what she just did was other-world beautiful to him.

He's too enthralled to realize how fast she's scooting his pace,

almost in a run, trying to keep up with her ushering fast stride.

The pinging eyes in her senses,

are becoming erratic, confused like they would have already.

A step forward, then two steps back, stuttering progress.

Picking up on Kazandra's presence.

.

"Ride with us, pleease!"

Zansa begging, while Soraya hops up and down on her arm.

"After you."

Graciously sweet, Kazandra finally drops her guard.

The encroaching threat, looming around in her senses,

has what felt like to her, been called off.

"Baabe!, come girl!, coome on."

The mastiff keeping it's distance, as they're all waiting for it,

filing in at the carriage steps.

Low slung head to the floor, in submission,

passing by up the steps, it just does what dogs do to new people.

"oOH!"

Kazandra peeking inside the carriage, caught the muzzle boop.

With hands going behind, in a quick turn,

the children's bursting giggle!,

"Babe stop that!, scoot scoot!"

.

Bumping along the small road, the carriage ride is painful quiet.

The girls don't know what to say!, Zansa has a million things racing through her mind,

but none seem good enough to actually utter.

"I Luv yer braids!"

Soraya bursting through the silence.

Kara's hair is always tightly wrapped.

In a smooth rake across her face, and pinned set.

Only one eye is fully exposed, with arches an all.

Kazandra's hair is pulled back, she is full face.

Nothing hovers her eyes in battle.

Flowing a braided top weave like a crowned web, held in place by polished opal beads,

and then braided again in the back, over the sweeping fall of platinum's beneath.

.

"It's called a War Braid!"

She loves it too!, and she bursts it out, in Soraya's same fashion.

"it's a strong braid for battle!, everything stays in place..

and it's still pretty!"

Infectious giggles spreading throughout the cabin,

Kazandra can see what Zansa is asking.

"Come here Zansa."

Motioning for her to have a seat,

turned backwards, right in front of her.

.

She pulls the pin, fanning out Zansa's long fall of auburn reds,

halfway down her back.

And starts fashioning a war braid, of her ironing board straight hair.

Seeing that Soraya's hair is much shorter,

and won't pull back to fit the war braid,

"Next time i'm here Soraya,

make sure to grow your hair out, so I can braid yours too."

Winking with a smile her direction.

"Promise!?"

Off the edge of her seat, firing back!

"I do."

.

Her hands are meticulously precise,

gentle but firm fingertips, easily working the braid in fast fashion,

like she's done it many times before.

Zansa's hair is so pliable, and fine, and there's so much of it!

She's enjoying just seeing how beautiful it's turning out.

A few twists of strands together by pinky,

separating out long bangs down the sides of her chin.

"So why is the Southern Seas your favorite book?,

you don't like the Butcher's Blade?"

Her adoring smile, there is no wrong answer.

.

"She has to keep wash rags by her bed!"

The scrapper bursting in!

But that was a little too personal,

"SORAYA!"

Zansa scolds a look. Then her eyes hit the floor.

"It's true..

I always cry when I read it."

Kazandra stops. A long breath.

She knows exactly what Zansa is talking about.

For eighteen years growing up in the college,

The Southern Seas Volume 1.

Had a permanent home by her pillow.

.

Fade to Kara's origin story.

.

.

CHAPTER 5 - The Southern Seas (Flashback)

.

Coming soon.