NOTICE! Before we begin: This is a work of fiction. Names of characters and places are made up completely by the author, and any resemblence to real life people or places, or even other works of fiction, is coincidental. Additionally, nothing in this story represents real life, and should be taken fictitiously. Thank you, and enjoy reading!
The clan Lycanis and the clan Dracul have always been at war. This is nothing new. They abhor each other, opportunistically jumping at the chance to start a fight between one another.
The Lycanis want the Dracul off their land, claiming the forest all the way up to the delta. But the Dracul think otherwise, saying their location is just, and instead claiming that the Lycanis over-hunt, leaving little for the vampires. The bickering never ends, and it seems their only resolution is violence. That is until...
Meet our main characters. Rona, from the Lycanis clan, and Mortas, from the Dracul clan. The two know not of each other, merely the other's name. However, the hatred they share for each other runs deep. They are filled with the stories their grandparents have told to them, stories of never-ending war and animosity. Even still, to this day, the clans battle amongst each other. Each child believes they owe a duty to their clan, to destory the opposing, and bring peace back to their people. However, it didn't go nearly as how either of them planned.
"Mortas!" The mother of the young vampire calls. "Mortas, dear, come down for breakfast. There is an urgent matter with which your father and I must speak with you!"
The vampire stirrs awake, eyes blinking slowly. His room is completely dark, as it is early in the morning. What a shame it would be for him to get a sunburn. Mortas sits up from his coffin-like position on his bed, before walking to his bathroom to wash up. Once finished, he changes his clothes, and heads down through the castle to the dining room, where his parents await.
"Rona! Come down and eat! There is something we must discuss with you, dear!" Rona's mother calls.
The werewolf yawns as he sits up in his bed, stretching. He has not a clue what his mother could want, but it sounds urgent. He quickly washes up, styling his curly hair, and changing his clothes, before heading down into the castle. The two heirs sit at their dining tables, worlds apart. But they will soon become one.
"What is it you wanted?" Mortas asks his parents, as a seat is pulled out for him by a servant. His voice isn't rude, but it masks an annoyed undertone. However, his parents don't seem to mind, in fact, they seem accustomed to it.
"With what would you like to discuss with me?" Rona asks his parents. He bows his head to them, then takes a seat. His parents smile. How happy they are to have raised such a respectful young man.
"Well, dear," Rona's mother states. "Your father and I have decided to make our alliance with the Dracul." Rona blinks.
"I'm sorry?"
"We wish to ally ourselves with the Draculs. We believe that we can finally end this war."
"Make allies of the Lycanis?" Mortas stands as he hears the news, miles away from Rona in his own castle. "Surely, this must be a joke!" Mortas exclaims.
"It is no joke," The parents talk to their children sternly. "Our people are all tired of war, why should they continue to lose their lives? While we fight amongst ourselves over the land we so desperately want, we kill it in the process. We water the fields in our own blood." Rona and Mortas can't believe their ears. Surely their parents wouldn't call a truce after so many centuries? Ally with the very people with which whom they so detest? "So hear this!" Their parents state. "We have a meeting with the opposing clan. There, you will meet their heir. You are to behave, and make friends of this heir. Do you understand?" They declare. But Rona and Mortas simply cannot believe it. Meet with the enemies heir?
"No way!" The two teens shout in outbursts.