“You... I do not know what to say, Adrian.” You laugh nervously, bubbling inside your stomach. “What does this all mean?”

Adrian shuffles closer in until his shoulder bristles against yours, “I suppose I should be downright honest with you at this moment,” his laughter is airy, with a hint of bravery he has plucked. “I am deeply afraid I will lose you one day, Y/N.”

You with ease hold his hand, reassuringly. “I’m not going anywhere, Adrian- it was just a scratch-”

“I’m not talking about the scratch, what does the future imply for me and… if you’ll be there beside me.”

Your breath gets caught in your throat, you feel clammy, and every hair on your body rises until you cannot think straight. You’re certain your heart is in your mouth and you’re struggling to breathe, but Adrian continues, pouring his words out to you.

“It’s amusing how this has consumed me that I cannot articulate my words correctly.” He stumbles. “It is feverous the way you enter my dreams, my waking thoughts and worries. My days are never satiated until you’re by my side. You consume me, body and soul, and still, it is not enough.”

He is still breathtaking, even when he’s flustered, but you listen, only because you don’t know what to say.

“I thought it merely impossible for two people from different backgrounds to fall in love. My mother and father did and still, their love sprouted and flourished. A human and a vampire, it was a myth, but their love showed, despite how fleeting it was.” He chuckles hesitantly. “I never thought I could understand what they shared until I met you.”

“What are you saying, Adrian?”

“Oh, God, how do I say this without making a fool out of myself,” he’s so bashful, a blushing schoolboy who has to overcome this announcement, but he doesn’t stray from it, rather prides himself in the confession. He holds your hand close over his chest, above the stammer of his pulse. “My heart-- it yearns for you.”

You watch in the seconds that pass when you reciprocate his feelings that his entire demeanour changes. The tenseness of his body immediately relaxes, and relief surfaces within his eyes, sweet and pure. There is such softness to him that has surfaced that he seems like a completely different person. Perhaps he had been so nervous that you would reject him, that this had taken off guard.

Adrian doesn’t shy away from you, grabbing your face in his warm hands. You lean further into his touch, excited and giddy. His honey-golden eyes glow against the embers of the fireplace; bright with passion.

You don’t know who leans in first, but you gasp as Adrian’s lips brush against yours experimentally, eyes flickering up to your eyes to make sure you feel comfortable against him. Noses brushing, you relish in his scent, grazing your bottom lip against his. The gasp that leaves him is similar to a whimper, and you delve further against his, never truly having your lips connect with him until the teasing becomes all too much.

Two flames, flickering now as one.

His lips are warm and inviting, intense as your bodies collide with one another, hands seeking to hold as much of each other as possible. It takes some getting used to before you find confidence, teeth clanking awkwardly against his fangs, you adapt to kissing him quickly and find that his kisses are addictive, soft, and tentative.

Adrian lets out a garbled moan, his hands moving to your scalp, his fingers finding your scalp as he softly tugs your head back, disconnecting his lips from yours and finding the base of your neck.

You gasp, feeling like prey. Excitement bubbles up in your exposed throat, thinking he will finally sink his fangs into your flesh, however, hot wet kisses press from your pulse point, up along your jawline.

“Adrian.” You softly gasp, your hands finding his scalp as the Dhampir continues his actions.

Adrian pulls back to marvel at you and you’re both a sight to behold: hair dishevelled, skin flush. Adrian’s golden eyes are blown wide and dilated, his breath ragged.

“You’re addictive,” his breath is laboured, and he pulls you back against him. He cradles the side of your face with his hand, stroking your cheekbone, “my little witch.”

You don’t speak when your actions are used to show how much you adore him. You pour your love into him, and all worries and qualms, fears of the darkness and what lurks outside the castle walls disappear. You’re safe in his arms and you’re finally happy.

You don’t speak when your actions are used to show how much you adore him. You pour your love into him, and all worries and qualms, fears of the darkness and what lurks outside the castle walls disappear. You’re safe in his arms and you’re finally happy.

“Don’t leave me,” he murmurs against the fullness of your lips, holding you to him, afraid you will turn to ash in his hold. “Don’t leave me, please.”

“Are you ready?”

You draw your eyes over to the blond, readying a chestnut mare, the two of you standing in the castle stables. Adrian tells you that the town is not too far, it may take a bit longer to get back with such a large supply he hopes for. The castle’s food supply was dwindling, and Adrian kept a list of what needed to be restocked.

Adrian was kind in giving you some spare clothes, simply because you didn’t want to get your pretty dresses dirty: simple dark pants with a pair of riding boots, a dark green vest and a white tunic shirt that was too big and you had to cinch in with a belt. You also carried on you a small satchel, a cloak and gloves in case of the cold.

“Yes,” you shuffle closer to him, wary of the large beast in front of you, its beady black eyes staring right into your soul, “it’s a beautiful creature.”

“Indeed,” Adrian answers, soothing the horse by scratching just behind the back of its neck, behind its ears, “she is a gentle soul. She will not be frightened by you.”

You warily stare ‘her’ up and down, inquisitively, “What is her name?”

“Oh,” the Dhampir seems understandably abashed for not giving her one, “I did not think that far.”

“Really?” You stare between him and the beast, surprise blooming in your voice. It only makes sense for you to give her a name now! “How about… Lady? No, no—or maybe—”

“Luna?”

His voice catches you by surprise, but it is a wonderful idea. “Luna?”

“It’s a pretty name,” Adrian strokes her snout affectionately, “I like the other name too.”

“No, I like Luna more.” You follow with a guide of Adrian’s hand in knowing where to stroke Luna; just above her snout, his hands lingering longer than you both expected in this subtle affection before he pulls back. His touch still lingers, and it comforts you the size of his hand compared to yours.

“Shall we get going?”

“Indeed.”

It takes some minutes of humbling yourself to get onto a horse- with Adrian’s help- but you’re far more ashamed of how you embarrassed yourself in front of him. It’s not graceful how you straddle, the discomfort that comes from your legs so far apart and how you’re already dreading when it moves.

 Adrian is quicker than you, almost leaping on with ease as he sits behind you, his hands coming from behind to grab at the reigns.

“Easy,” you think he’s telling the horse to be at ease, but you realise it’s directed to you, his hands reassuring you, “You’re not going anywhere, little witch.”

You’re thankful he can’t see the way your face heats, the way you wish he would do what he said, but you have to stop those thoughts from occurring.

The laugh that comes from you is more of a wheeze, and you correct yourself before you can embarrass yourself further. “Are you talking to the horse or me, Adrian?”

Adrian chuckles lightly at your jab but knows it is all a tease. He guides the horse out from the stable, and almost immediately begins a sprint. The castle seems like a speck in the distance the further you travel, trees whipping past like shadows of figures you thought were human.

Animals could be heard within the trees as if they surrounded you, but instead of fear, you felt the wind whip through your hair, and across your face. You imagined this was what it felt like to be a bird, or the fastest horse free in a field. It was in some way what you imagined what a vampire felt like hidden and part of wildlife.

With the speed and wind on your side, you arrived in the town by the time the sun was highest in the sky. You forgot how lively a town could be: bustling with life. People of all ages, genders and skin tones wandered the market. Mothers with their babes and young children playing around her skirts. Those who came to sell and trade within the markets. Couples of old and young fill the streets with tender displays of affection for one another.

It made you blush when you looked around, realising that some could maybe say the same about you and Adrian looking like a couple. Would Adrian notice this too? Would he feel ashamed to be associated with you?

You didn’t realise you had been distracted by your thoughts when you felt a tender hand shaking you gently out of your thoughts. Blinking owlishly, Adrian stood before you, his golden eyes were wrought with concern. “Are you alright?”

“Overwhelmed, but I’ll survive,” you told him, puffing your chest out to show you weren’t feeling all sorts of worries. “Have you got the list?”

Adrian doesn’t want to shake away his concerns for you, but he unravels the crumpled note from inside his coat pocket to hand to you. You scan over it quickly before you nod. “See you back at the carriage?”

“I must hire one first,” Adrian chortles, “but yes, I shall see you then… be safe.”

Be safe.

It’s enough to make your heart swoon, and you nod, fleeing like a lovesick teenager who just said hi to her crush. You absorb yourself by finding the necessary things, trying your best to not get engrossed by the things around you.

You get mostly through your list before something catches your gaze.

An array of jewels of different sizes and colours greet you: some attached to bracelets, necklaces and brooches, others gaudy and lavish and sitting for all to see. It doesn’t take you long to fully stop and be standing in front of the older woman’s stall, looking over them carefully.

If only I had enough money.

“The peridot would suit you nicely, young lady,” you look up to catch the warm gaze of the woman, her crow’s eyes wrinkled. “Or alexandrite. Very pretty, will catch anyone’s eye.”

“They are very pretty,” you muse, though you already know you won’t be buying anything from her, it is always nice to look around. “I wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Light colours would suit your skin tone,” she begins as she points to different items, holding them as if for you to compare until the next thing to come from her mouth leaves you practically gasping, “I’m sure your husband would agree.”

“Husband?”

“There you are.”

The first thing you notice is the arm that snakes its way around your waist, a body leaning in closely to you as you feel your body freeze on the spot. Adrian is looking over the jewels with you with interest, softly musing to himself, “I knew I’d find you here.”

You’re gawking now, no words are coming to you and it’s only when the old woman brings up impatiently that you’re buying anything that Adrian pulls a bag from his pocket, casually handing the woman the change as if it's nothing. “The peridot I think would look lovely on you.”

He’s moving away, back to the wagon with you following behind like a lost puppy.

“What was that?” You whisper when it’s just the two of you, watching the world go by.

“What do you mean?” He asks as he pulls out the necklace to inspect himself. “I thought this colour would look nice on you.”

“Yes,” you replied, fiddling with the hem of your gloves. “It’s just—”

Adrian seems to read you easily, and he knows when you’re showing some discomfort. “Have I made you uncomfortable?”

“Far from it,” you laugh it off, though your heart hammers to great lengths, “She had been the one to say I had a husband.”

Your laugh leaves Adrian silent, quieter than he normally is, and it leaves you spiralling. What was he thinking? Was he too uncomfortable with the choice of words?

“Turn round for me?”

You blink thoughtlessly at the question, slowly following as you turn your back on him. You have to stop yourself from gasping aloud when his gloved fingers graze over the back of your neck, pulling back your curls to give him a proper view.

You’re shivering, and you realise what state you’re in, crumbling just from a singular touch, but you try your best to keep your cool. Adrian steps close behind you, his scent is strong in your nostrils as he collects the links of the necklace, putting it around your neck before securing it.

 “It suits you.” He quips, knowing that his words are having an impact on you, before he turns away to the cart, you follow hot on his heels to nag him for making you feel so unsteady.

-

It's sometime later on the cart on your way back when Adrian suddenly touches your hand.

Even when he wears his leather gloves, you can feel the warmth that resonates within him, the raw strength and power that comes from him. He’s a killer, a killer who could’ve overpowered you a long time ago, but who you put your undying trust in.

Your shock freezes you as you look over at him, his gaze on the road ahead, but you know for a fact, that he’s aware you’re staring. “Is something the matter?” He draws softly, looking at you through his peripheral.

“You’re…” You can’t find the right words, but you direct your gaze to his free hand occupied in holding yours, and he follows. “My hand,” he states coolly, though you feel as if there is a hidden motive to this. “You were cold.”

Right, you tell yourself that, and a harsh chill bristles through you before you have time to think it through. He’s smart, too smart.

“Oh." You don’t consider he’s telling the whole truth, but you don’t shake away the way he’s holding your hand. It brings a great comfort to you. You’re still side-eyeing him as he continues on the road, the silence that envelops you is calming and quaint.

You’re very aware that your heart is hammering, the necklace wrapped around your neck is being twirled as you think heavily with your thoughts. Shall you tell him now how you feel? Would that break everything you built with him? It’s only a matter of time before your feelings are split accidentally and your friendship is cursed.

You squeeze his fingers to get his attention, “Adrian, there is something I wish to tell you-”

You’re lurched forward from your seat at the front of the cart, the suddenness of it is all to not still your nerves. The horses snorted in anxiousness, and all around you stood still as if holding their breath. Adrian’s eyes were deadest on something within the trees, and you couldn’t help but feel even more nervous at what could be out there.

“Night creatures?” You whisper to Adrian, but he only gives a glance your way, a way to tell you it was way, way worse.

It was still far too early for creatures of the night to be out, but with the fading sun passing over the horizon of the trees, that was when you spotted them.

They blended with the trees at first, but you could see their silhouettes, standing as rigid as statues, ready as soldiers for war, staring down at you like vultures. They can’t be just human bandits on the road, their presence alone gave off a bad omen. You don’t know how many you count, their clothes blend as one with the growing darkness as the sun settles.

Adrian’s voice is already speaking to you, cutting the silence with a knife.

“Y/N, get to the back of the cart, do not come out until I tell you so,” it’s not a warning, but an order, and you don’t want to waste his time by stalling. His voice is serious, eyes stone cold as he glares down at the figures not far and lurking around the trees.

Adrian easily hops down from his spot as he flicks the scabbard off his longsword. You watch in a mix of wonder and dread at the scene that unfolds.

The figures draw in closer, watching and snarling as Adrian holds a solid line, almost unfazed as he holds the sword close to his face.

His sword glows suddenly as if imbued with holy light, a shocking flow of blue flames engulfs it, glowing and hissing with life. The flames flicker close to Adrian’s face as he readies his action, changing his stance before he is on the closest one.

He’s quicker than your eyes can register, a shadow of crimson shifts as he moves at lightning pace, soon in front of the hooded creature as his sword moves as one with him. He is no longer holding it, rather, the two of them move as if it is a dance, fluid and graceful.

A hiss of a cry lurches into the darkening skies, one is down on the ground, its skin hissing and bubbling as it disintegrates.

Two more are on him with a flash, but Adrian fights with valour and dances around him, swords crashing against the sound of their taloned nails. You’ve not stuck around to know what was happening, having crawled through to the back of the cart for safety.

Once huddled in a spot surrounded by crates, you can only rely on sound: clashes of silver clang loudly around you, bodies fall and you have no clue if Adrian is winning or not. You can only assume he is, from the way you can still hear the glow of his magic sword, twirling around as silent as he is.

Another noise resonates from just outside, creeping behind you and you freeze, before the sound of splattering blood and a gargled choke dies down. You look just to your left to see that the material of the cart is splattered in the thick, viscous liquid, and you shudder that Adrian is here to protect you.

You don’t know how many of them are left, and you can only think that the best thing for you to do is protect yourself if one finds you inside. You scramble to your feet, clumsily looking for any blade that could be of use. You find only a flimsy dagger, and you clutch it close to your chest as you settle in the back of the cart, trying to calm your racing heart.

Something draws in close and you stutter a gasp before you realise it’s too late. The figure pauses almost dramatically, inching closer to the back of the cart, their movement deliberately slow, trying to edge as much fear out from you.

You pray it’s Adrian coming to your rescue, to tell you the area has been cleared, but as the face emerges through the curtains of the entrance to the cart, it’s not those golden eyes you’ve grown to love staring back at you.

They’re red, crimson as the blood that will soon spill from you.

Your screams fall silent as the face erupts into a smile, wide and fanged as the rest of its vampiric kind. The dagger in your grasp feels more like a twig as you stare down, wide-eyed the vampire in front of you.

“What a pretty little thing you are,” his voice is soft yet hoarse, and his red eyes seemed unblinking as he seemed to taunt you from the entrance, blocking one of the ways you could escape. “What a delicacy you’ll be.”

Your fight or flight had kicked in and instead of either of them, you had become frozen in your spot, dreading that this would be the way you died, dying in a smelling cart as a vampire ripped at your throat.

“Don’t worry,” he coos, inching closer, a clawed hand bracing the inside of the cart as he further draws inside, “I’ll make sure I’m quick with you.”

-

Adrian's POV

Blood soaks through the leather of his clothing, but he is thankful it is there’s and not his.

The last of the creatures die within an inch of him, sizzling into nothingness as he stares down what remains. Ash of their bones and the burnt clothes remain, the reminder to anyone who crossed him he would do it a hundred times over.

All in the name of love.

He had once didn’t understand the meaning of love, the way it would pull at his heart and lurch within him. He needed it as if it was necessary like water or food, a hunger that he yearned for in the waking hours of the day to the late hours of twilight.

He is his father's son after all.

Dracula did it in the name of love, and he found he was killing his kind all to keep you safe.

“Y/N, it’s safe.” He calls you to, and he listens for any sound except for the sounds of nature surrounding him. It’s startling how quiet the outside world could be, and how quickly his heart could plummet in knowing something was deeply, deeply wrong.

His heightened senses could not smell blood, not the blood that came from you but what had fizzled and dried. It seemed almost deathly quiet, but Adrian’s mind was racing, the pulling of his heart meant you were not here, or worse, he had failed to keep you safe.

A scream brings his attention, and he wastes no time in hurtling towards the back of the cart, his heart racing.

No, no, no, if he's failed in doing the one thing, he's failed you and himself.

He hasn't even got his face an inch through the gap before he senses something telling him to move out of the way, an object being flung just where his face would be. His head snaps to see a dagger clatter to the dirt just behind him before it turns to what stands before him, a snarl leaving his curled lips.

You were safe, for now, though the vampire he failed to miss had his disgusting fangs inches from the base of his neck, his clawed hands wrapped around you, keeping your body locked to his chest.

 “Son of Dracula, the Messiah,” the vampire greets him, observing him with a lazy smile. You continue to squirm in his grasp, eyes locked onto Adrian for any semblance of safety. “Care to take a bite of your pet first or shall I do the honour?”

His venom is bitter and his anger is boiling at the words he uses for you. How dare he call you a pet!

“Unhand her now,” his voice resonates inside him and he channels his father, the voice he would use and boom across the castle grounds, “I will not ask you again.”

“Ah, ah, one step and I spill her neck open.” The hooded vampire fusses, his movements almost consoling to Y/N as he runs a hand down her cheek, tears drying on her skin. “This one is a waste if you keep it.”

He laughs easily as he stares Adrian down, his next words bringing Adrian close to lopping his head clean off. “Though it is no surprise, you are Dracula’s son, keeping human women around as your pets. It was Dracula’s weakness,” he leant close into Y/N, drinking up her tears as he licked his tongue up the side of her face, “and it will be your undoing.”

Adrian is hunched as if ready to pounce to get him off you, but his golden eyes are never leaving you. A cry leaves your lips when his tongue licks up the side of your face, and you’re shivering, hands clutched around the tightened grip of his forearm.

There is a silent connection that only he can feel when you are close, and it comes from your eyes that stare back at him. They don’t seem as frightened as they did before, and he believes he knows you want him to be calm and not quick to action. Your eyes calm him like a storm approaching, ready to destroy all in its wake.

The vampire holding you runs a hand through the links of your necklace, the hands glimmer in the low light inside and it’s the only thing Adrian sees, trying to not imagine it coated in blood. “Such sweet, sweet blood.” The vampire says, his face drawing into your neck, but you stop him from doing anything further.

With your hands clutching his forearms tightly, Adrian watches how you shut your eyes tight, before shouting the words that resonate through you:

“Ardeo!”

It amazes him every time when you speak that spell, the way flames spill from your hands as easily as water flowing. The endless cycle of nature flows through you, and the power within your hands cries with a mighty scream that neither Adrian nor you know who it’s coming from.

The flames roar as they lick up the clothes of the vampire, and his screams join in fright as they clutch around his arm, a grip in itself that never lets him go. They take and they take, scorching the fabric as they bury deep into the skin.

The vampire is held in place as if something within an endless cycle of life and death ties him to his spot, scorched by your touch as he squirms and screams. He sounds like a pig, Adrian notes, but the sound is as annoying as the actual animal dying.

The vampire is quick though, and though his arm is distorted, blackened and charred, he shoves you away from him, his nails catching you by the skin of your arm, nicking it as you collide with the side of the cart.

Adrian is there in a flash to end it all, to end its misery, to end its hellish torment. He does it for you when his sword is a flash of lightning, quick to the bite and cold as a kiss to the vampire’s neck, coming out the other end before anyone could realise.

Your breath is caught in your throat as you’re unaware you’ve been cut, though the adrenaline dies down as quickly as the body slumps in front of you, turning to ash before your very eyes.

Adrian is beside you, a hand tending to your arm before the sting catches up with you. You hiss in pain, realising what had happened and how deep the wound is. Three long scratches reach down to your elbow, bleeding freely.

“Careful.” He’s quiet with his words, delicate as if treating you like the fine China you are. He rips part of your shirt, wrapping the open wound to stop the flow of blood. He reminds himself he needs to clean it when you return to the castle.

You’re staring at him as he does so, your eyes glazed over as if in a daze, and before he has time to register if you’re okay, he feels something press against his cheek, and he realises it’s your warm lips, chaste and sweet.

“Thank you,” you murmur, leaning into him as the silence fills the cart. Adrian is silent for what feels like forever, but his mind is screaming. You kissed him, and he’s gaping like a dead fish. You kissed him and he feels like a boy all over again.

He shakes out of his thoughts to collect himself, to calm the rush of blood that goes straight to his head, and he feels lightheaded, but he gladly accepts your embrace, cradling you to his chest.

“No... thank you.”

-

Latin Translation:

-

1463

Six years Later.

“You’re late.”

“I’m sorry, mama,” the little girl came bounding into the hut, mud and twigs matted in her curly hair, her skin was scratched and bruised from falls, but her toothy smile was enough to bring her mother’s attention to softly scold her. “You’re muddy again, Y/N. Did you cross over the river?”

The little girl darted her eyes away, trying to keep up with her innocent smile. “No.”

“Your ears burn when you lie, did you know that?” She pinched at her round cheek, but her smile was soft compared to how the years had treated her. “I shall clean you up before supper. Instead, we shall continue our lessons.”

“Will I learn to fly again?” The girl beamed, spreading her arms as she flapped them, mimicking the birds she saw in the trees.

“Levitation comes with many years of practise, sweet girl. It will not come to you for many more years. And besides, I shan’t let you fly around these woods, who knows who would see you.”

The girl knew of what lurked in the woods beyond their small camp, of what stalked and hunted in the night. Vampires. The blood leeches that preyed on anyone they saw. Men, women and children were never safe, and the little girl was warmed by her mother and the many sisters of the coven to be wary of their powers, and their manipulations. Targoviste - although safe to protect her from the humans - was not safe in keeping the creatures away. Nowhere was safe for little girls, but Y/N was no ordinary girl.

“Now,” her mother continued, “we shall continue with divine power.”

A favourite of the girl, she rushed to the table, leaning to get a better look. Divine power held two pillars in its wake, a never-ending cycle of balancing life and death. To make life was to call death.

The girl watched on, seeing two potted flowers, one had petals as yellow and bright as a canary’s, but one had shrivelled and died after many days of neglect.

“You remember the words?” Her mother asked as the little girl nodded her head enthusiastically. “Very good, speak them loud and clear, focusing all on the flower that is alive.”

The girl stared at the petals carefully, making sure not to take her eyes off them. She could feel the way they drew life, and how life spread through from the dirt all throughout. With the simple words, the girl commanded, “Capio.”

As if witnessing time move in lightspeed beyond what any human could comprehend, the petals began to shrivel and darken, and the yellow bulbs of the flowers shrunk as they caved in one at a time, curling in as the soil darkened. The girl looked up at her mother, pride flourishing on her face, “Can I say the other one, mama?”

“You may.”

She looked at the decayed pot with the other flower already dead for some time, speaking clearly, “Do.”

The same happened, and the girl remembered her mother describing it as if the lungs of a human were breathing. She could feel how the flower rushed back with life into its soil, brightening and blossoming once again. Its petals developed as they rose high and mighty, taking in the appearance of being freshly plucked not long ago.

“Very good, Y/N. You have gotten very confident with that spell.” She spoke, taking the pots aside, stroking her daughter’s cheek warmly. “You will become a great witch.”

“Just like you?”

“I’m no great witch, my sweet.” Her mother laughed sincerely. “It is I who had to be trained further than I was capable of knowing.”

“How did you find out you were a witch?” The girl pondered.

“When I was a little girl, maybe the same age as you, I was teased by the other children my age,” her mother began, “It got very bad, to the point one day, I was pushed into the river, and they all laughed at me.” There was a sadness in her eyes, but her daughter could read that it was more than just sadness, but anger. “I don’t know what came over me, this feeling. It felt how the wind changes, when storms approach and you can sense it’ll rain. That’s how it felt, a sense of power.” She raised her hand, clenching it open and shut.

“I remember I was staring at a rock in front of me, staring at it so hard, that I hoped for it to move, to hurt them back… I knew it was wrong, but they hurt me.”

“Did you hurt them?”

“No, I gave them a warning. I scared them off by raising the rock for all of them to see. They screamed, running back to their families and accusing me of being a demon.” She laughed sadly before she knelt low to her daughter’s level.

“You must promise me something, Y/N.”

“Yes, mama?”

“No matter how much people hate you for what you are, no matter the pain they inflict. It is better to not hurt them back. We hold—extraordinary power, that no one but us would understand.” She squeezed Y/N’s shoulder in emphasis. “Do you understand?”

“Yes, mama.”

“Good,” she kissed her hairline. “Now, you have the choice to clean up or help me tidy in here before supper.”

“How about I go back outside again?” Y/N beamed, “I’m already dirty, but I can get clean when I return.”

Her mother thought of this for a moment, sighing heavily in defeat. “Very well, but you mustn’t cross the river. It is getting too dark.”

“I promise!” Y/N laughed as she chased the greying clouds, running as far as her little leg could carry her. It was by the time she caught up to the river when her lungs were burning and she stared at the pebbles.

“I could do what Mama did.” She said aloud, only the trees, and the birds in their nests could hear her, and sense her presence. “I can be strong like her.”

She concentrated on the smallest rock beside her, staring and staring at the smoothness of its surface. Holding her palm out, she clenched and unclenched, trying for a moment as she got the pebble to shift once, then again, moving the other rocks it was embedded in, wiggling it free bit by bit.

Her patience was wearing thin, it was taking forever! It wasn’t until she loosened it enough that in a fit of frustration, she yelled into the air, tossing her arm outward as she flung the pebble in its direction, startling her by the suddenness.

“It worked!” She toothily smiled, staring out as she watched the smooth pebble scatter across the water’s edge, catching itself in the mud on the other side.

She was about to happily go back to celebrate her victory, to tell her mother in hopes she’d be proud, but her eyes caught something in the low treeline. The trees blended, and she thought she had seen one move, until a silhouette emerged, tall and willowy, blending in naturally with its surroundings.

Y/N’s smile dropped as she took in the stranger on the other side of the river, staring her down despite her not being able to see their face. It was shrouded in a dark hood, and only their nose and mouth were visible, skin bone-white.

She felt frozen in the very spot she stood in, all sense of fight or flight dispelled from her body, and moving down her spine was the icy-cold sensation of true fear.

Run.

Run.

RUN!

Her heart felt as if it had stopped beating, replacing it with the ticking clock, seconds passing with the chances of escaping running thin.

It was only when the stranger’s face split open into a wide smile, that Y/N could feel the sensation come back to her legs.

Sharp fangs protruded from their mouth, gleaming like silver daggers.

She didn’t know what kept her going, the hope she would make it back alive, or the fact that she wanted to stay alive for her mother’s sake.

She could hear the creature move to keep up with her with ease, chasing the trees as it ran atop, keeping pace with her.

She had hoped the moment she got back to her mother’s hut that it was all a cruel nightmare. That she would wake up in her bed and nothing had happened.

Her small village grew closer in the distance, with the sounds of the winds and creatures close and surrounding her. She could almost feel their breath on the back of her neck, their laughter, mocking her to move faster—as if she was their prey and they enjoyed the chase. It felt like there were thousands of them, an army of them chasing after her.

Y/N’s lungs burned for air until she reached the front door, and everything was deadly quiet, except for the sound of her wheezing. No candles burned in the hut, nor in any other that she knew a sister occupied. Where is everyone? She thought, scanning the village, where no light was seen.

“Mama? You must let me in! There’s—” she pushed the door open to witness the horrors in front of her. “Vampires.”

The blood was the first thing she noticed, startling and fresh, with her mother’s body lying alongside it, eyes vacant and clouded.

Y/N didn’t know the scream that came from her lips came from her, crashing to the floor and coming into contact with her mother’s body. “No, no, mama, please! Wake up!” She shook her violently, staring only back into cold, lifeless eyes. “Wake up, please! Wake up, wake up, wake up!”

She scanned the room, everything had been scattered in places in the small room, as if someone had come in and pulled it apart, root and stem. Think, Y/N, think! She thought, and only did she spot the items that she crawled the smashed plotted plants.

She cradled it in her hands, pooling soil as she cupped them to keep the flower stable, chanting the words over and over again. “Capio.”

She watched, waiting, hoping and praying to whoever was out there to hear her prayers, but she continued and continued. “Capio. Capio. Do. Do.”

The flower in her grasp did not budge with death, instead, its petals remained its dull, yellowish-hue, staring back at her hopelessly as she had felt. It was only the realisation hitting her that she knew the others in her coven were not there anymore either, and she was the only one left.

Tears flooded down her cheeks, and Y/N cradled her mother’s body, already growing colder with the seconds passing. “Please come back… I need you.”

-

Latin Translations:

Capio – (I) take/seize