At fifteen years old, Maverick joined his Uncle's team under strict training. Maverick's days were filled with grueling training sessions, learning the art of combat with blades and daggers.
And his nights were spent poring over reports from his senior teammates who had encounters and experiences fighting with numerous vampires, absorbing every detail and tactic.
His uncle drilled into him the importance of understanding the enemy, of knowing their weaknesses and strengths.
And one day, when his uncle decides to tell him the truth of his parent's death.
"Maverick, about your parent's death. It was caused by the vampire." Lawrence said, his voice solemn. "When I got there, I found a few pieces of evidence on their bodies, and both your father and your mother were stabbed in the heart."
Maverick standing there listening to his uncle quietly.
He glanced at Maverick and continued, "It was the information I shared with your father, that they knew they had to stab their heart with silver to prevent them from turning if they ever got attacked by a vampire."
Even after learning the truth, Maverick never feels any harbored thoughts of revenge. He tells his uncle that he approached his new role with a sense of duty, driven not by vengeance, and it put his uncle at ease.
Two years after the intensive preparation led to the day where Maverick finally joined the team officially at seventeen years old. Maverick stood tall and resolute in his black uniform, the dark fabric a stark contrast to his pale skin.
The uniform was a symbol of his new role within his uncle's team—a team dedicated to hunting down vampires. The weight of the responsibility was heavy, but Maverick bore it with quiet determination.
The memory of that night was still vivid in his mind on his first night patrol. Maverick walks alongside his assigned partner, his sense heightened, fully guard, showing no weakness.
"Tonight is especially cold don't you think, Marx." his partner said, pulling his coat closer.
"It's my first time patrolling." Maverick replied bluntly.
His partner was startled. "What?" His eyes widened. "Then why is the chief letting me accompany a newbie who doesn't have any experience fighting the vampire like you with me?"
Maverick gives him a side glance, "Don't you trust your upper up?"
"It's not that I don't trust him but…"
Before his partner could finish his complaint, they heard a loud thud behind a bar. Maverick quickly charged toward the noise while touching the hilt of his silver blade.
Arriving, Maverick finds two vampires wandering around the back door of the bar, probably waiting for their prey. When the vampires are alerted by Maverick's presence, both charge at them.
Maverick didn't flinch. He moved with the precision and confidence instilled in him through countless hours of training. With a fluid motion, he drew his blade and dispatched one of the vampires, his movements smooth and controlled.
But then, his partner faltered. The second vampire, sensing weakness, lunged at Maverick. For a moment, everything seemed to slow down. Maverick knew he could handle the situation, but before he could react, his uncle burst from his hiding place, his blade slicing through the air with lethal efficiency. The vampire fell, at Maverick's feet.
Lawrence walked toward Maverick and thrust the vampire on the heart. "Are you all right, Maverick?"
Maverick's partner who lay on the ground lifted his head when he saw Lawrence. "Chief, you are here. Thank God, we are safe."
Maverick turned to face his uncle, his expression unyielding. "You don't have to worry about me anymore, Chief," he said in a steady voice. "I know what to do. After all, I had an impressive teacher who trained me strictly."
Lawrence, instead of being reassured, drops to his knee. "What have I done! Forgive me brother and sister in law for putting Maverick in such a risky job." He said, and started to cry.
Maverick let out a long sigh, "Here we go again."
Maverick quickly turned his attention to his partner, who was still laying on the ground, Maverick helped him to his feet, urging him to move quickly.
"Let's leave quickly. Before things become even more complicated." Maverick said firmly, guiding his partner away from the scene. They needed to get out of there before his uncle's sorrow overwhelmed them all.
"I didn't know the chief had this kind of side." said his partner, leaning upon Maverick.
As they ran through the darkened streets, Maverick glanced back briefly, seeing his uncle still kneeling on the ground, his shoulders shaking with sobs.
"Is it ok to just leave him like that?" His partner asked.
"He will be fine."
Maverick sat in the carriage, staring blankly out of the window as the coach rattled along the dusty road. Suddenly, a knock on the carriage door jarred him from his thoughts.
"Sir, we're going to rest for a while to change the horses," the coachman called out.
"Understood." he answered.
Maverick stepped out of the carriage, stretching his stiff limbs. As he glanced around, a wave of familiarity washed over him. The landscape before him, the gentle slope of the hill, the cluster of trees shading the path it all felt eerily familiar. Then it hit him.
This was the very place where he used to rest with his mother during their travels, a decade ago.
A sense of nostalgia tugged at Maverick's heart as he walked further into the grove of trees. The air was thick with the scent of pine and earth, just as it had been all those years ago.
He remembered how his mother would spread out a blanket beneath the large oak tree, laughing as they shared pastries and tea, making up stories about the people who might have traveled the same road before them.
"Mother, are we still not there yet?" Young Maverick asks.
"Just enjoy it, Maverick. We'll be there in no time." His mother replied to him with a smile.
This was the very place where he used to rest with his mother during their travels, a decade ago.
"Sir, the horses are ready. We should continue our journey."
Maverick nodded, closing his notebook and tucking it back into his coat pocket. He took one last look around, committing the scene to memory, before following the coachman back to the carriage.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of rolling hills and distant towns as they made their way toward Birmingham.
When night fell, they stopped at an inn to rest, and Maverick found himself unable to sleep, his mind still replaying the memories of the day. By dawn, they were on the road again, the final leg of the journey ahead of them.
It was early afternoon when the coachman finally slowed the horses and turned back to address Maverick. "Sir, we've arrived in Birmingham."
Maverick quickly looked outside, his heart racing with anticipation. The town stretched out before him, both familiar and new. There were many changes new buildings and unfamiliar faces but some things had remained the same.
The old shop where his mother had bought sweets, the bookstore where she'd indulged his love of reading, the pastry shop where they'd shared countless treats, all were still there, standing as silent witnesses to the passage of time.
Maverick felt a sudden urge to visit those places, to walk the streets his mother had once walked, but he knew there was something he needed to do first.
His parents' house—his house—had been empty for a decade, and it would surely need some attention. Renovation and cleaning were likely necessary before it could be truly livable again.
As the carriage drew closer to his childhood home, Maverick prepared himself for the sight of a long-abandoned house. But when they pulled up in front of the gates, he was taken aback.
Standing there, waiting for him, was his old butler, Edgar.
The years had left their mark on Edgar, his hair now completely white, but his presence was as dignified as ever. He stood with his hands clasped in front of him, as if nothing had changed since the last time Maverick had seen him.
Maverick stepped out of the carriage, his surprise evident. "Edgar… I didn't expect…"
"Young lord," Edgar interrupted, his voice welcoming. "Welcome back. We've been expecting you."
Maverick blinked, still processing the fact that his family's home wasn't the empty, forgotten place he had imagined. Edgar's presence was both comforting and bewildering, raising a thousand questions in Maverick's mind.
"How… How long have you been here?" Maverick finally asked.