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[Marcus Draven]

---

I walk through the halls of the Castle, and hear only my own footsteps. Thoughts consume my mind of late events, and I do not even notice the absence of the others. Eventually, I find myself before my office. Walking to the desk as if by some sort of automatic motion, I sit down and release a deep breath. What has become of the Coven? Those whom I believed to be loyal to myself have appeared to vanish from sight. No word or note to their Lord, just simply vanishing as if they were running away. As of yet, it only appears some within the Coven have merely disappeared without any trace so I have yet to find out as to what has happened. I do not know if they have been captured or worse, turned their back upon me after everything we endured together.

I finally notice William standing outside the doorway, his eyes lowered as he waits to be acknowledged.

"Come in William.. what is it?"

My Lord, is it true? You have released the pack of Cade to follow our own path? His eyes raise slightly.

A hint of a smile forms. It is William. You have served me many years as have the others in your pack. You have earned your freedom many times over.

William nods slightly. I do not what to say my Lord. I have always kept to the promise August made so many years ago.

No words are needed William. So what have you decided?

I am not sure my Lord. I have felt a calling to journey to those lands I have yet to explore. Perhaps I shall do that.

A smile crosses my face. In some ways perhaps I envy you William. Perhaps some day our paths shall cross again.

William appears to lighten some with a smile. Thank you my Lord, I hope this to shall happen.

There were no more words that needed to be spoken. I simply excused him as he left to gather his things and begin his journey.

I begin to remember events long ago of the vampire Val'is. As he turned his back on the Coven, taking others and even one of the Witches to turn against me. More than this they had the poor judgment to attempt to attack my Coven. It was this judgment which had begun the blood war between Covens. Beyond this they had attempted to kidnap Adara while she attempted to speak to them upon a truce. Luckily, she brought Gabriel along who jumped out of the Gloom at the right time to interfere in their attempt, allowing her to escape. This act of theirs was unforgivable and they had finally gone to far. I remember the order clearly to the Lycans of Cade, hunt down the traitors and rip them limp from limp. It had been this level of loyalty I have grown to cherish above all. And it had been that level of loyalty which has earned my respect, and now the freedom of the Lycans.

My mind returned to the present and what has occurred.

The demands of a Prince are vast, and I cannot look over each of the kindred within my bloodline. Nor may I bend to each of their demands as I must do what is best for the Coven. Perhaps this is my own fault, perhaps it is the fault of the nobles or their Sire. But one thing is clear to me. The weakness of the kindred shall be purged. The vampire race is and shall forever remain superior to all others. Our speed, strength, and abilities allow us to feed upon any human at our will. Even the illusive elves are unable to stand against such a threat.

It is finally time to move upon the next chapter of the Coven. To gather the loyal and train them properly in the ways of the kindred and Ventrue. As Prince of the Ventrue, it falls upon me to establish the nobility among the vampires. To establish ourselves in the world of mortals, to bend them to our will and strike down upon our enemies. However, it is clear the kindred within my Coven must accept their role within the Coven and this new life they have been brought into. Northridge is well on its way finally, and it is time to focus efforts closer to home.

[Marcus Draven]

---

This night I feel a urge I had not felt in some time... to pour blood upon the ground. I had not the need to feed, merely only the urge to kill. The rage within had finally grown to a point that I could not withhold any longer. I left the castle and used my speed to move through the woods like a wisp of air. The night was now in full swing, with the only nosies being of the creatures of the night. Within moments I was within the walled city of Trinsic. Knowing well enough of this rabble calling themselves Atalan pretend to reign over it. The air seemed stagnant as I walked quickly yet quietly though the streets. It was not long until I found a group of the cities guards. They would be my kill...

I stepped out from the shadows of the streets and into their view, they glanced in my direction with little concern until they saw my ice blue eyes staring at them. A grin forms over my face and as my fangs were seen they jumped to their feet. Three guards took arms and charged, I stood still until they drew near then suddenly revealed a weapon in hand. In one quick sweep I slit ones throat and in the same motion plunged my weapon into another guards chest. They both fell to the ground, gasping for breath and as they realized their doom, horror came upon their face. I grabbed the last by the neck, using my other hand to hold on to his arm holding the weapon. He trembled with fear as he looked over at his friends as they died, their blood pouring out unto the street. I drew him close to me, releasing a deep growl. At this time five more guards hurried down the street after hearing the commotion. I glanced to them and looked back at the one in my grip, I merely utter "kill them."

As I drop the man, he took his sword and charged wildly at his fellow guards. The guard tossed himself into the group, swinging his sword with a wild anger. He brought his sword down, slashing another mans chest. This was all the mortal could do before the others thrust their swords into him. As the man lay there bleeding to death, he had realized what he had just done. He began to cry as I bled before the remaining guards until he soon lumped over and died. He only was able to strike down one before the others slain him, but he served his purpose to amuse me for a moment.

The remaining four turned to me, spreading out in a feeble attempt to surround me. I picked up the swords of the dead guards and with a smile I continued the bloodshed. Killing two in a flash of speed. I first strike low as I severed a leg from each of them, and before they could fall to the ground, I twist and rest the hilt upon the ground. The two fell upon the swords, slumping to the ground dying almost instantly. I turn my head turns slightly to see two charging while the last fled in terror. Another moment passes as I dropped my weapons and killed the two with my own hands. They each swung their swords at me within a moment of the other. It was easy enough to catch them by the arm with weapon in hand. In a single motion I snap their arms, and as they screamed in pain I went from one to the next ripping their heads from their bodies. A small laugh escaped me as I could smell the last man as he fled down the street. I jump upon the rooftops to give chase. He ran several blocks before stopping to turn back. Seeing none but his dead friends, he stopped to catch his breath. Little he knew I stood over him, on the rooftop. I drop down, and just as he begins to scream I move in, ripping his throat apart as I feed upon him. As I finish, I rip apart his lifeless body, flinging his body parts about the street. His blood covered my jaw, neck, and chest. Taking a few breaths to splendor in this night, I vanish just as quickly...

[Aurelia Bretane]

---

Nightsong and Carden.

What invisible, and golden gilded tether had drawn here here? Had she not departed mere days ago for home?

Ashencrosse needed her now, as she needed those whom she had always known as family. But a new family, forged of
blood, lay scattered upon the wind, and she flew from one corner of the world to another in a desperate attempt to
gather to her those souls to her who still held sway upon her heart.

Tonight, she had returned to claim that which remained. He, who had not flown. He, who was still hers. He would
be hers, as she was his. Beyond all shadow of doubt, and beyond the frail human emotions which still played themselves upon her heart. She would return for him.

The castle lay in quiet disarray. And within it crept neither life, nor unlife. Aurelia walked the halls silently, touching the pretty baubles that he had chosen to keep for himself. Decorations, ornaments, pristine and revered, each of which evoked fond memories for him, and brought him happiness.

Catching the scent of blood on the night air from the south, Aurelia made her way to the entrance of the castle to watch the shadows for signs of his return. Leaning upon the heavy iron door, she stood as a sentry, as one immovable. No sign of her Lord, but for his scent, which lay gently upon each thing in the castle that he called dear. Each thing but one. And that would change, soon enough.

[Marcus Draven]

---

I appeared from the Gloom a short distance from the castle. Blood soaked my shirt and arms. I managed to wipe away most from my jaw and neck. Dropping my head back I gazed out into the night sky, my eyes still in their ice blue form. The night was now in full swing and the cold winds claimed the night sky.

Memory continued to loom on days past. The gifts of immortality that have been given to the few. In many ways I held each one dear, as if they were my own children born into darkness. I would kill any who threatened them, murder any who would do harm upon them. It has become clear they do not hold me in such regard however. I suppose not all children wish the love of their father, as I have not always held the love for all my children. However, I always held my loyalty to each one until the time comes where they betray me. On such a day, I do what I must as Prince and seek to destroy them.

Time shall reveal what will become of them. For now the sense of betrayal looms within me. It is clear I have given the gift of blood to those unworthy of it. And so from this day on those who are of my bloodline shall be deeply vetted before given the gift. The Coven shall forever remain, this time those with the gift shall truly become the image of Ventrue. Leading not only kindred but bending the humans to our will. Those remaining shall completely embrace the masquerade, blending into this world of mortals.

My head slowly lowers from looking up into the night sky and I step forward, nearing the castle.

[Aurelia Bretane]

---

Blood-soaked and gazing upon a heaven that would never embrace him, he stood in silence. No creature’s hushed step crept beyond him in the forest. No bird cried for dawn in the barren cathedral of treetops.

Even Aurelia’s breath paused in uncertain expectancy as she watched him through the narrow slant of moonlight from behind the iron castle door. Her Lord stood gazing skyward, his tumultuous thoughts evident in the ice blue of his eyes. His expression did not otherwise betray his turmoil.

Silently, she allowed the door to shut, as she retreated farther into the castle.

[Marcus Draven]

---

As I entered my castle, a place where our kind need not hide, a sort of clam came over me. My blood soaked shirt matted to my chest, the anger which brought this upon the mortals has eased yet not vanished. I walked inside, looking about the objects in the main hall. Silence consumed the castle this night. I could sense only one other within the castle walls, my Chancellor. Taking in a short breath I quickly could sense where she was and began to walk toward that direction.

Walking through the castle, I thought of the Coven and the dangers that loomed on the horizon. The mortals had forced my hand. I had only wished to remain in peace and seclusion. Keeping my bloodline safe from those who would seek to destroy us. Those days are over. Fear of our kindred seems to of escaped the minds of mortals now. The human Judas had spoken to me as if he were some sort of equal, trying to bargain with me. He is not the first threat nor the first to fail to render proper respects. The Atalan even went so far as to attack one of my young childers when we only took the chance to extend an olive branch, not of an alliance but merely one of simple understanding.

The days of my Coven wishing only to merely live have passed, action shall be taken. I have grown curious to what has become of this Judas since I compelled him to forget all of our kind. And if I shall find need to fulfill my promise to killing those of Yew should he break his part in his pact, now forgotten to him. Amusing as it was I shall live up to my word, now and always. More pressing however, are these Atalan. Word reached us of a woman gathering forces to face them. Even though my own reports tell that the Atalan have all but vanished entirely. This shall only be the first strike upon them, as soon I shall strike with the wraith of a vampire Lord.

This world shall soon watch as the skies crack open and blood pours from the heavens. I shall unleash demons under my hold to create chaos and bloodshed in this realm. The witches shall soon be set upon the mortals to torment and murder those in their path. The time shall come when I decide to awaken my family, and with them destroy any who think they need not fear us.

With that, a smile appeared on my face as I turned a corner. There standing in the room was Aurelia. She could sense my arrival and was already in a full curtsy, with her head bowed. I looked over her a few quick moments before telling her to stand.

"Come Aurelia... we have much to discuss..."

[Aurelia Bretane]

---

"My Lord."

The mix was volatile, there was no question. She'd never had such conflicted emotions about anything in her life. Emotions bigger than she was. Instincts that pulled her in directions she'd never known, and loathed to consider. But the instinct she felt at the moment was the one in which she was most practiced: Silence. Failure to hold one's tongue meant death to those of her kind.

Her Lord looked upon her a moment, her body bent gracefully to him, head bowed, gaze upon the floor, before he spoke. “Rise, Aurelia.”

She stood immovable and silent as he sat. Answered his questions one by one as he asked. What news? What had become of the others? Had they betrayed him? Each question was met with fearless honesty. She wondered what she would answer if he asked her directly of Judas. Was it even possible to lie to him?

Knowing now what he had done, she nearly hesitated as he motioned to the seat beside him, but she knew too well that she had no choice. She took the seat beside her Lord, answered his questions, and offered counsel where it was needed. And she found herself wondering as she watched him how cruel he had appeared as he stole Judas' memories away. How dark and sinister, how controlling and hatefully had he sneered? Would that be how she would become, if she found the power to restore him? Would she bid him forget again? Or give him the truth and bid him hold his tongue forever? And what were the chances she could bid him do anything at all, when much more powerful commands held sway upon his mind?

“What other news, Aurelia?” He watched her searchingly as her heart sank. Images of the vast scars that marred Nicolae's face and body flashed in her mind. Of his screams as he clawed desperately at the inside of the silver coffin that burned his flesh, tortured and twisted him. And all for far less than what she had done already.

No, she told herself. I won't become that vile and insidious beast. And no, I will not give in t' fear. Instinct has brought ye this far, Aurelia. An' instinct is all that will keep ye both alive an' free. For the first time, she realized that her instinct was no longer relegated to self-preservation and survival. It covered them both now, and drew him closer to her. But whether because of the bond, or the foolish notions of a young woman in over her head, she had to trust it. It was all she had in moments like this.

Her Lord waited and watched her expectantly for her answer to his question.

Aurelia lifted her gaze to his and spoke into his eyes. “There is no other news, My Lord.

[Aurelia Bretane]

---

When I consider how my light is spent
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one Talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
"Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?"
I fondly ask. But Patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, "God doth not need
Either man's work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o'er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.
~John Milton

***

The coven had gone so very quiet. And yet there were signs of life among these barren branches. What nature destroys can bring new life. And the tree scorched by fire one year, may recover tenfold, and bring forth a bounty the next.

Aurelia often wandered the halls, watched and waited for her Lord. Waited for word. Waited for the return of those who had gone to some other beyond, by choice or by force.

She felt familiar stirrings within her, raking her fingertips along the stone walls as she walked. Some had returned. Others would return still. The ethereal hands of the universe held their threads together and wove them into the same fated tapestry. All she could do was wait, and watch the Master's work.

And she watched with halted breath the night she was brought to a table with her two loves. Her Lord, whose bond she could never deny. And Judas, the bond she would never deny. Never had she felt so torn. Never so alone, as the two spoke to one another in a careful dance – a double-blinded game of chess, which she wasn't sure anyone could win.

The betrayal that flickered in Judas' gaze gave her pause, as she sat quiet and calm, head lowered, and listened to the conversation. He could not know the ties that bound her to her Lord. And he could not know how closely she watched Lord Draven for signs of suspicion – signs that he might move against Judas. Signs that anything was amiss.

And so she served her purpose on both fronts. She bent to the hands of the Master and waited to be woven to the greater good of the design.

[Aurelia Bretane]

---

The castle sat a quiet sanctuary. Often did she wander the cold, institutional floors. Often did she call out, and shatter the silence of her despair. The stone walls had not tongue to answer. Her voice found no ear to hear, no feet to carry swift reply. Nevermind that, if there had been one to answer her, he’d have known her presence before she broke the quiet with her cry.

But would anyone have come?

Throughout such long and empty nights, she wondered if it were not better that her Lord should have killed her out of pity, rather than offer his gift. And she wondered if he did not regret such hasty decision as to draw her unto him. It did indeed seem an easily regrettable decision to make.

But until such time as she was cast out, still she would wander, and still cry to the empty halls that held no answer but her own plaintive echo.

Until such time as she should meet with untimely end. Or, dare she even hope the impossible, find redemption…