CLUJ-NAPOCA, ROMANIA.
YEAR 1464.
AZRAEL.
It was just like any other day in our villa. While I was in one of the numerous gardens, picking flowers for my mother, Andrei, my father slowly walked up to me.
"Father," I called happily, showing him the basket of freshly plucked Lilies and wild roses I'd assembled. "Look what I got for Mother. They bloomed yesterday"
"Her favorites" My father smiled, checking the basket's contents and nodding "You have done well, son."
He picked up a wild rose and sniffed. "You seem to know your mother so well. More than I do. Perhaps we should switch places. That wouldn't be so bad, would it?" Father ruffled my hair playfully and chuckled.
I set down the basket on the pavement and took off my gloves "What brings you here, father? It's not like you to frequent gardens in the mornings"
He smiled weakly and lowered himself carefully to sit on the pavement.
I knew walking from the house to the garden and standing for a little while had already drained him of enough strength it would've taken him to gather for two days.
Worriedly, I watched my father. He was getting worse. Being a descendant of our powerful ancestor came with its grim disadvantages. The curse placed on Dragavei to weaken him did not end with Dragavei.
It had been passed down through his generations and would continue for generations to come. My father was one of them. Dragos was one of them. I was one of them. All we could do was hope our fate would be different.
"Father" I called softly "You don't look well"
My father smiled. "You've come of age to learn the ancient shadow arts and I'm sorry I cannot teach it to you." He glanced down sadly. "As you can see, the illness that plagued my father and his father before latches unto me too. My health wanes with each passing day"
He let up a pent-up breath. "It has always been my dream to groom my boys... train them in the ancient shadow arts of vampiric warfare just as my father did to me but this illness saps the strength from me like a leech"
"Father, speak no more. There is no cause for explanations, I understand"
He stared at me for a moment before speaking up. "You will have to turn to your uncles in Ukraine"
My heart broke. "Mother's brothers? But I do not want to leave you. Not like this, father."
My eyes had started to water and Father reached out to wipe my eyes."Do not weep, you know I hate to see my boy weep" he stretched out his arms and I leaned into his embrace.
"But you must." He said quietly. "You must so you can be there for your brother. You must be there to protect him before he can do that himself and you must teach it to him as well"
My father paused to cough brutally for moments before continuing, "This responsibility shouldn't be yours to bear, you're too young for it and once again I am sorry"
I saw him stifle the urge to break down in front of me.
"Dragos is just six. He's far too young to fully comprehend the gravity of what is happening to me"
My cheeks were stained with tears as I looked at my father. "How long will I be gone for?"
"That depends on how fast a learner you are" he replied. "It took me two months when I was your age— A decade and three years because I was a very fast learner. You're a special child, Azrael. I cannot predict your case. Perhaps three months, more or less"
Three months away in a strange land. Three months without seeing my sick father. Three months without my mother and brother.
The illness had first started with tremors in his hand. Then it spread to both hands, until steadily it graduated into high fevers and brief spasms, and then the madness... the symptoms had no end.
"I shall go, Father" I spoke up bravely. "Since this is your last wish of me"My father smiled proudly, clasping my shoulder. "You're becoming a man, and I know it in my heart that you would make a fine patriarch one day, even if I wouldn't be there to witness it"
As he pulled me to himself, I burst into tears again.
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KYIV, UKRAINE
(TWO WEEKS LATER)
I collapsed to the ground, my hand gripping my stomach as excruciating pain wracked my entire body. The blow from my uncle, Lucius had been so violent, it knocked the wind out of me, leaving me gasping for air.
"Easy, Lucius, easy" I heard Dacianus my second uncle say as he watched from a distance, sounding a bit uneasy "We wouldn't want to bring Darcia's wrath upon us now, would we?"
Geta, my third uncle chucked wildly "Oh, spare me the concern, Dacianus. She's miles away. Besides, they wanted him to learn the ancient shadow arts, this is how the ancient shadow arts are taught. There is no easy path to mastery"
Dacianus looked at Lucius who was impatiently waiting for me to get up. "Remember his status. The lad is still mortal... doesn't get turned for another three years. All I plead is that you take care not to break anything"
"Still an anomaly of nature, you mean," Lucius said in disgust. "Rise, boy!" He commanded, ignoring his brother's words.
I shook my head vigorously, staring up at him. My stomach hurt so bad, my body stinging with pain."No, I-I can't"
"Are you hard of hearing?" He bellowed, "I said..." Lucius grabbed my arm and pulled me up forcefully "Get up and fight!"
"Please, Uncle Lucius. I don't want to"
"You beg?" Geta approached us, a fearful glower on his face "Did I just hear you beg for mercy?"
Before I could respond, I received a hit to the face. "We do not beg for mercy " He scolded, picking up the two training sticks from the ground. He wielded them deftly and threw one to Lucius who caught it easily.
"You will be head of the family one day. You will be responsible for grooming the Alesul and you beg for mercy? Pick up your stick and fight!"I struggled to my feet.
My left eye had closed and was swollen due to the sudden assault.
"Do you think your father would be proud of you?!" Geta questioned again, not waiting for a response "Of how you cower?"
"No,"
"Then for Dragavei's sake, attain the stance of a fighter!" He barked out.
I managed to retain my stance, thinking of my father, the reason I was there in the first place. I couldn't give up, especially after I'd started.
Lucius made a "come here" gesture with his other hand and I moved on wobbly legs, charging towards him.
My uncle dodged my attacks as easily as dragonflies dodged raindrops and struck my back, causing me to crash to the floor again.
Geta cackled wildly."Pathetic"
"Pathetic?" I retorted, struggling to my feet."I am but a lad. A human lad, sparring with vampires, does that appear fair to you?"
Lucius smiled, answering calmly. "I have not used any of my vampiric abilities since we started, Azrael. You simply are just... weak"
"This is not a fair fight!" I yelled amidst tears. "I am a decade and three years old, you have lived for at least a century or more. I-I lack the strength to best you"
"No, you don't. With time you will learn to evade my attacks and strike back at me"
Geta walked forward. "An abomination is what you are," he said, "The first in your bloodline to stray from normalcy. Every heir before you was born a mixed breed, but you... you were born mortal" He stared down at me like I was a stain in his boot. "Utterly mortal... an aberration,"
I started to weep, yelling in defense, "Father said the blame is not mine! He said there are times when nature itself bends beyond our control. One of our ancestors was born of a human mother... that was who first tainted the bloodline!"
"Centuries after that happened, vampires were still born from the Vlad bloodline!" He snapped in return. "Until your mother turns you, you're nothing more than prey. Now, rise, boy!" Lucius barked out."
I tire of this, uncle. We've been going at it for an hour now. I- I need to rest. Please let me rest"
The frown on Lucius' face deepened. "To surrender is no choice at all" he stated."But, I surrender not, I simply wish to res..."
His eyes glowed with anger. "You shall not rest until you have landed a blow upon me, do you comprehend, boy?!"
"But..." Geta hissed in warning. Of all three of my uncles, he terrified me the most. He was a maniacal vampire.
His hair, long and dark, just like my mother's was styled oddly, his eyes were wild and grey, screaming his crazed persona.
"But what, boy?" He prodded my shoulder, his voice filled with an evil that sent chills down my spine. Leaning down to meet my gaze, he added, "Or would you rather spar with me?"
My heart raced with fear, and I shook my head frantically. "No," I squeaked. A twisted grin spread across his face, and he reached out to ruffle my hair.
"Good choice," he sneered. "Lucius takes much pity on you"
But then, the smile vanished. "Now, pick up your stick and fight!"
My legs wobbled, and I struggled to maintain my grip on the stick. The urge to flee occurred to me—to escape into the daylight where my uncles couldn't follow. But, I knew the consequences would be dire if I attempted that. And I didn't know the way home on my own.
Because they were nightwalkers, we trained in an area hidden away from the sunlight, surrounded by tall, thick trees that provided us with enough shade.
A large, firm shield supported by wooden posts also cast a shadow across the grounds and served as a refuge from the rays of the sun. This protective barrier allowed my vampire uncles to train undisturbed and retreat to safety when needed.
As Lucius closed in, my instincts kicked in, but they were no match for my uncle's viciousness. I winced as another blow landed, my body aching and my vision dimming with my blood.
"This is madness I am but a lad. Why do they still expect me to match up to their centuries of experience?" I pondered to myself.
The assault continued, and I gritted my teeth, desperately trying to focus on the image of my father in my mind.
"Father, I am enduring this for you, and you alone"
"You must learn to embrace the pain!" Lucius yelled, "It must become one with you!"
"Dragos. I have to do this for Dragos too. I have to endure this pain for him, so I can be the one to teach him."
If I failed at mastering the ancient shadow arts, my little brother would be sent to these monsters to learn, and I would rather perish than let him endure the torment I was facing.
Blow after blow rained down upon me, each one driving me further into the ground until I lay battered and bruised, unable to summon the strength to rise. I'd screamed out my father's name repeatedly, and through the fog of pain and fear, I'd heard Geta's cruel laughter again, echoing in my ears, taunting me with my weakness.
As I lay there, nearly unconscious, I felt someone lift me from the ground. Too weak to speak or move, I realized that I had made a terrible mistake coming here.