Tradition was what started peace long ago. But it was also the reason why war began against beings- vampires versus themselves, versus humans, and then witches; and finally, magic against mortals.

What started it was a simple flee from fate. An heiress who was bound to bathe in blood blue of hue — her destiny, and the one thing that may determine that their family would stay at the top of the clans— vanished. At first, it was only a rumour.

"Do you remember Beatrice of Costigan?" Evelina's mother reached for her glass of warm liquid, the drink carrying a dark rosy colour, the smell sweet as she could imagine

Yes, was Evelina's answer but she dared not speak. Not when she only had very few exchange with the lady. Summer evening, was it? She was young, so the exact words they shared had long been forgotten. Perhaps there was a quick talk about the best flavours of blood; maybe there were questions of what she would be doing once she turned two-hundred and fifty.

At least, she could say that it went beyond nods and handshakes.

And what was it for? To prove her mother how much she was socializing, instead of hiding away from the party.

Getting that she would not reply, Evelina's mother continued, "Dearest Theodosia told us that her daughter left earlier than expected. Ten years, was it? But where is she now? The child must have ran away with all that power. Oh, her poor family."

And for the war to happen?

A rumour served as the beginning.

'The heiress of Costigan, the clan leading all, disappeared from existence!'

Everyone was both confused and intrigued. Costigan had been the superior vampires for hundreds of years, and Beatrice was supposed to assume leadership next. But without doing their tradition every century, no one would be worthy to rule.

From there rose chaos. And it began with a joke.

"Well, they have been in that position for far too long. Why can't we lead, too?" said the man from Rassier, chuckling. And while there were those who went along with him, laughing as if it did not matter, the others sniggered as their minds bloomed ideas. Wicked one that prepared not one being.

A week after those phrases were uttered, Costigan's mansion burned down. The clans accepted it as the family being ashamed of themselves, of the daughter who left them forever. But, of course, they all knew that what caused it was the rapid rise of political ideologies.

There were more than two parties involved. One was parading that they should go back to sucking fresh blood from the living. The second party was against it, and was keen to having the continued peace within humans and vampires alike. The other parties weren't given much importance when two were already fighting for rights of devouring food, the one thing most vampires were interested in.

As arguments were thrown and mansions were being burned, attacks outside started. The clanging of church bells rang nonstop for days, giving humans awareness of the dead bodies that were being found. They all have the same descriptions. Their skin pale, mouths open as if they were taking in their last breaths, eyes wide, and bodies dried up of something from the inside. Blood.

Eerie yet delicious.

There was no denying that humans were a forbidden drink that they would dream of having. There was none like it, especially the royal ones. But it was also part of their nature that both beings should co-exist. Drinking was betrayal.

So while vampires were at war with each other, humans joined the havoc for revenge. Spears were tossed at unsuspecting blood-suckers, puncturing their hearts. The number of beheadings were at its peak. And when vampires decided that they've had enough of humans tossing them around as if they're stronger than them, witches allied with the weak beings.

Their numbers were decreasing, clans were disappearing. It was hell set upon them. The enemies were winning until vampires held up their flags, declaring defeat before mortals.

The war against vampires ceased, but it did not mean that the battles had stopped. Human are far too wicked, as they desire blood as much as vampires did. The witches, their allies, became their weapons of destruction. And they realized that somewhere in time, magic might also betray them. Afraid that that day would come, the humans burned the witches if they did not do their bidding.

And Evelina had always wondered. Was it fate that was punishing those fools? After all, they could seek the vampires' reign, yet they chased those mortals only for them to treat them like dirt.

Was it payment for helping them? To conceal away their energy so that none would die?

Witches were known as loons, and they've proven those illustrations true. But who would laugh but humans, for vampires were now part of their jests, too. How could these almost-immortals lose to such powerless creatures?

The wars lasted for more than fifty years. Witches and vampires, alike, hid from beings they once deemed unworthy. And as years of disguised peace moved to the present, most resorted to pretending. Pretending that the war affected nothing but relationships. They continued living with lack that could never be fulfilled while rebuilding a tradition that once was gone.

"Evelina."

She was watching the flames dance a story when they called her name. Evelina looked up and met the gazes of her clan.

"We said that our family was picked to start the tradition once again," her mother announced, more loudly this time. "You as candidate, of course."

Evelina hitched a breath, giving her older cousin a look that seeks for help. Being the dumb bat that he is, her cousin only raised an eyebrow and continued nipping something from his fangs. "And when was this decided, mother?"

"This is why I have told you that you should attend council meetings! You have no idea about what is going on! Do you not have any care at all?"

Evelina scoffed.

Of course, she cared. She only stopped because once she began again, it would drive her mad. 

That was what happened during the war. She fought witches with Lionel, her lover, and what became of him after that? His head was displayed in front of the enemy's lair, acting as a warning to those who would dare attack. The sight was unbearable, yet she could not get it out of her mind. And even when it was all done, how she embraced the body of her fallen beloved would stay.

No. Once she started caring, everything around her may fall apart again.

"I do not need to care when you kept on deciding what I can decide for myself."

Her mother glared at her. "I just want to give what is best for the family! You cannot even appreciate it when we are chosen as candidate for the next leaders of clans."

For the family, of course. Vampires had no right to be selfish when family is the most important thing for them. She cannot speak for herself, the answer should always be what is best for the family. That was why she attended the balls in the past. That was why she fought in the war- and that was why she should not take long to grieve her lover's death.

What she can do was accept her fate, the tradition of bathing in blood blue of hue. After that, they would be recognized as the most powerful among all clans. She would lead the vampires and rebuild their shattered future. So that she would not be considered a disappointment, like Beatrice Costigan was.

The tradition started the war. It started her life, too.