Prologue: New Legacy

The King of Shadow Vampires is about to meet his end. But before his existence ceased for good, he will shift the world of the mortals and immortals one last time.

Prologue: New Legacy

 

18 Years Ago

Mysto, Emera

 

Darkness continued to consume the whole field, and in Lester’s point of view, everything else around him is surrounded by a never ending darkness and the only thing that is visible to his eyes was the flaming pentagram that will soon end the life of the man standing inside it.

 

His father, his beloved father.

 

And for the first time in his immortal life, he wants to shed tears from his eyes. To shed tears and alleviate the heavy burden he carries inside his heart. If only he could. But every time he tried his father’s words stings on him like slashing whips.

 

Be strong Lester. I didn’t raise a weakling for a son.

 

Be strong? How can he possibly do that? While his father is about to face death, here he is, standing right before him, powerless to do anything rather than to wait for the Pyat’ Vampirov Staryeĭshin standing motionlessly at each edge of the fiery pentagram to give their final judgment for his fate.

 

From his position, Cadmus, the head of the Staryeĭshiny entered the pentagram. “Lyon tysyachi glaz Senphena.” The Head Staryeĭshiny voice possessed an ancient accent filled with primal authority. “King of the Shadow Vampires. Do you have any last request before we settle down your penance?”

 

Lyon retained his pride and shook his head, “I have none, Great Elder. I’d rather face death than to ask any.”

 

Lester locked both his hands into fist when he hears his father. Those damn Staryeĭshiny! They’ve been conspiring with the Gods to end the Senphena bloodline. And now they’d succeeded on eliminating his father, leaving him to be the only surviving Senphena.

 

He knows that he’s next. Once he’s gone, the last member of their clan’s royal family, the Staryeĭshiny will gain full control over their entire clan.

 

The Shadow Clan, the most powerful vampire clan in the world of the Mystics. And for eons, the Gods of Kaah had feared their power and desires nothing more than to erase their existence in the face of the Mystic World of Emera.

 

In the past thousands of years they’d tried many tricks to end them. They failed. But little by little, the once vast family of the Senphena diminished through the years and now only he and his father Lyon were the only Senphenas left that can lead the clan.

 

But his father made a mistake and gave the Staryeĭshiny a reason to execute him. He fell in love with a human, a mortal being, an act that is extremely forbidden by the Law of Emera. They are a Dark Clan and they praise to no God. But they still respect the Law of the land that fostered them.

 

The Staryeĭshiny might believe that they’d already won. That in the death of his father, the Senphenas will weaken and cease in existing, they were wrong.

 

Upon his impeding death, Lyon had left something that will continue his legacy.

 

A child.

 

Lester closed his eyes. He could still see that moment when his father summoned him in his chamber a few hours before his execution. A concealed conversation where he passed his last will to him.

 

“Lester, listen to me,” Lyon spoke silently and cautiously as if he is terrified that someone might hear a single word of the things that he’s about to breath. Lester was of course stunned by that kind of manner of his father. He’d known him to be someone who never fear nor get budged to anything no matter how callous the situation is. “My time is almost up so I want you to listen to me very carefully.”

 

He nodded, whatever is it that his father wants him to do, he’s certain that it is something with an utmost importance for him to act this warily.

 

“The Blood Moon will rise in three days.”

 

Lester couldn’t have been more stunned had his father punched him directly in the face. The Blood Moon is a phenomenon that only occur when a Senphena is about to be born. “What!?”

 

“The mortal that I’d been with, she’s carrying my child and in three days she will about to give birth to the Last Senphena.” Lyon held his shoulders and steadied his gaze to him. “Lester, I want you to do everything in order to protect my child. You must ensure that the Senphena’s legacy will continue and whatever happened, my child must live.”

 

“I will,” Lester said with a stern expression that can tell Lyon that he had no plan of failing him.

 

“Thank you my son and forgive me,” Lyon said, meeting again his agonizing eyes. “I can no longer be here to guide you.”

 

“It’s not your fault father. It’s those Staryeĭshiny, they conspired with the Gods to eliminate us.”

 

“They won’t succeed. As long as you and your sibling lived, the bloodline of the Senphena will never perish.”

 

Lester nodded, determination was evident to him. “Yes father, I won’t let them win,” he clenched his teeth. “And I swear to you and in the name of our ancestors, we will avenge you.”

 

The howls of sorrow from the Blade Werewolves from afar brought Lester’s psyche back to the present.

 

“Korolem Tenye, Lester Tuman Senphena!” Lyon shouted to him with a voice filled with pride. Shadow King, Lester the Mist.

 

Lester’s eyes widened and everyone in the execution ground including the Pyat’ Vampirov Staryeĭshin had shifted and lock their attentions to him.

 

Shadow King?

 

His father had legitimately passed his throne to him.

 

“I’ll entrust everything to you. I know you’ll be a great leader. Guide everyone to the path which you consider right and just.”

 

He tried his best no to show any sign of weakness, but it was so hard to bear when his facing the fact that this is going to be the last time that he will saw his father. Yet, he has to be strong in his behalf. He wants to show him the powerful son that he raised.

 

“Farewell, my son!”

 

“Farewell father,” he mumbled.

 

The Pyat’ Vampirov Staryeĭshin starts chanting. The moment he feared has finally come, Lyon’s execution had begun. And at the edge of his father’s life, the last thing that Lester witnessed was his face that carries no apprehension upon his death believing that he is there and will not fail him.

 

On the other hand, the Pyat’ Vampirov Staryeĭshin believed that the coming end of the Senphenas was ensured upon the death of his father not knowing that the legacy the Senphenas had just only begun.

 

 

The silence upon the halls of Mysto Castle was excruciating. His family’s place had always been covered in darkness even before the dawn of his existence. But never in his two hundred years of life had he ever felt it so lifeless. Never, not until now. His father is gone, while he still has an eternity to deal with, an eternity that he needs to deal without him and his guidance. And on his departure, he left him with two clans that depend on him in leading them and a coming child that he must protect with his life.

 

He went through the maze like corridors of the Mysto Castle to the Shadow King’s throne room. Staring at the throne which once seated by his father, he reminisced his last words.

 

Lyon had entrusted everything to him, all the responsibilities to ensure the survival of the Shadows and the Senphenas. At the moment the Pyat’ Vampirov Staryeĭshin are on their move to take over the authority over the clan and if they succeeded, the Gods will have all the powers over them. If that happened, in no time they will destroy all the Shadows including the Staryeĭshiny that they’d use to take them down. And it’s up to him to not let that happen.

 

Setting aside his burning emotion and insignificant grieving over the things that can no longer be changed, “Storm,” he mumbled, summoning the Senphena’s most trusted warrior.

 

Carried by the shades of shadows from the darkness hording in the chamber of Shadow Kings, a tall and well muscled man possessing the ancient demeanor and strength of a true warrior materializes behind him. “What is your will my Lord?”

 

Storm, the chief of the Blade Clan, a Werewolf with an assassination skill of no equal. For centuries he had served the royal family of the Shadows with great loyalty. And the present, the only person he can trust.

 

“Gather your most trusted men,” he ordered. “In three days the Blood Moon will rise, cross the world of the mortals, seek my father’s woman and bring me their child.”

 

“As you wish, my Lord,” he complied, and his presence disappeared once more in the darkness.

 

Three more days before the Blood Moon will rise. He must make his movements stealthy to avoid any notice from the Staryeĭshiny before that day. The traitors must not know that a new Senphena is about to be born. His father had put everything in the line to keep the existence of the child concealed, and it is his responsibility to keep it that way.

 

 

Tulane �" Lakeview Hospital

New Orleans, Louisiana

1990

 

Agnes Malcolm scanned through one of the old magazines piled in the admitting counter to ease her boredom. It’s 12 in the midnight, only an hour from the start of her shift but the dark and silent ambiance of the Admitting Station was making the hour seems like an entire day of torture to her. She truly hates graveyard shifts. It’s the worst working time any nurse could acquire in a hospital schedule.

 

Eight hours from 11pm until seven in the morning. That is the amount of time that she must tolerate at her counter. Convenient for some, less work and just sitting around waiting for either significant others that will make visits to their admitted patients or people seeking doctors for consultation, but it is already midnight and visiting time was long over and no one in a right mind would schedule a consultation in this inconvenient time of the night.

 

She looked outside, small amount of snows are still falling and the red full moon is diminishing. Earlier, it was bloody red. It gave her goosebumps. The view surely is a rare event, beautiful for some, yes it is beautiful. Beautiful but creepy.

 

She sighed. This is what any nurse condemned to work at night shift will obtain. A lot a crazy stuffs and events.

 

After a moment, the automatic door slid open revealing four men with massive builds slowly approaching the counter. Weird. She didn’t saw them approaching the door. It was as if they just appear in front of it before their entrance.

 

All dressed in black, she gulped a huge lump on her throat, their manifestations are eerie. They are similar to gangsters and goons that she often watched in action movies.

 

The tallest one of them, a long haired guy which looks apparently at his early twenties, who also appeared to be the one with the highest authority among the four, inched closer to her, his dark hair with white streaks were peppered with snowflakes. “We’re looking for someone.”

 

He probably had the deepest voice that she’d ever heard and it sent shivers on her far greater than the coldness of the weather and the night. “Can I have a name sir?”

 

His cold gaze locked on her, sending more chills on her. “Amelia Dwayne, she’s supposed to give birth tonight.”

 

Agnes immediately searched through the records of any admitted patient who has the name. She can sense that these people might be up to no good, but at the moment she’s all alone with the four of them who all has sizes almost twice of her. She doesn’t want to upset them, fearing that she might lose her life in the process.

 

Finally she found the one they’re looking. “Yes, Amelia Dwayne,” she replied in a shaky voice. “She was admitted earlier and was in labor for 10 hours.”

 

“Where is she?”

 

“At the ward at the second floor but the visiting hours is over.”

 

“Did she deliver her child already?”

 

“Yes, she just gave birth 2 hours ago.”

 

“Where is the child?”

 

“At the NICU,” she gestured towards its direction.

 

The man followed it by sight, and when she faced him again he said, “Thank you for your cooperation.”

 

He placed his hand in front of her face and white lights started emitting from his palm, piercing her eyes. What the hell! She exclaimed mentally. But before her body could respond, everything went black.

 

 

            Inside his bedchamber, Lester walked impatiently back and forth with nothing else in his mind but the thought if Storm and his men had succeeded in their mission. And if his feet are blades, with the amount of hours that he’d spent in his current state, he could have sliced the floor long ago. Anxiousness, great amount of it is currently enveloping his entire being as he waits impatiently for their return

 

Three days ago, he’d assigned them with a very important task of retrieving the child of his father from his mortal lover. And hours ago, the Blood Moon had finally risen signifying that the child of Lyon tysyachi glaz Senphena had been brought into existence and an announcement to the world that another one from the royal bloodline of the Shadows had been born.

 

Gazing to the window, the shades of red on the moon had already subsided. It means that the child is either living or dead. Lester made his advances to be unseen as possible but with the Staryeĭshiny as his adversaries, he can never be so certain. They are ancient being with vast knowledge and eyes that seldom overlook things. And with the Gods backing them up, they are nearly inescapable.

 

Of course it was quite obvious on Lyon’s case. He had an affair so they could have considered the possibility that he’d had a child with her and the earlier rising of the Blood Moon had finally confirmed that.

 

Running his hand through the back of his neck, he sighed and tried to calm himself down. Storm is the most powerful Blade and also his family’s strongest warrior. And even if he got stuck in a very sticky situation on his current mission, he can certainly find a way to get away from it.

 

And as he just reflected about it, he felt Storm’s presence occupying his chamber. Weak, beaten and wounded, Storm embodied himself in front him, limping his way towards him. “I had returned, my Lord.”

 

With eyes wild in panic, “Storm!” he hastily approached to offer him aid. “What happened?”

 

Yes. What could possibly have happened for Storm to end up this badly? Did the Staryeĭshiny send Shadow Warriors to restrain them from accomplishing their mission? If that were the case, he shouldn’t have ended up like this. Aside from him and his late father, there’s no one else in both Shadows and Blades that can fight in par with him.

 

Or could there be? Could there be someone under the command of Staryeĭshiny that possess such strength to put a warrior with the caliber of Storm into this kind of mess.

 

It could be possible. The Staryeĭshiny had already conspired to the Gods and betrayed the Senphenas. So it will be of no surprise if they were also hiding some powerful warriors under their domains.

 

His bloodied mouth spoke, “The mission,” he panted. “It was harder than we thought.”

 

Lester looked around, searching for his other three companions that joined him in the mission. “The others? Where are the others?”

 

Storm’s knees strike the floor, “Dead. Killed.”

 

His eyes widened. Mauron, Silvin, and Hai are dead? The three of them were the best of Storm’s disciples that gained great honors from countless of wars even before he was born. It’s very hard to believe that those great men were completely defeated. What kind of monster could have done such a thing?

 

His consciousness shifted to the matter with the most importance. “The child? Where is my father’s child?” he asked in immense fret.

 

Storm waved his cloak open, exposing a small figure wrapped in swaddling clothes that he carried in his arm. Lester tried to take it from him but Storm warned him, “Be careful, it bites.”

 

He frowned, confused on Storm’s words. Despite the peculiar warning, he pursued of taking the child from his hold.

 

Storm went stiff and wary, like something obnoxious might occur. When the child was finally in his arms and nothing unwanted seems to have happened, he finally relaxed.

 

Lester leaned down on his arms, the child was stunningly beautiful, has an angelic feature that resides no sign of the viciousness of their kind, the vampires, the most dangerous of all predators even in the world of immortals. Cursed to never witness the rising of the sun and are bond to live in darkness through their endless lives.

 

And as he held the infant in his arms, he feels like a herd of raging bulls are rampaging inside his chest. And even though he doesn’t want to admit it even to his self, he knows that he is nervous. Happy but also nervous. He has a sibling, he still has a family.

 

“It appears that the child likes you,” Storm said. “You don’t know what I and my men had been through just to deliver that little b*****d to you.”

 

“What exactly happened?” he asked once more, gazing again on Storm’s beat up body. “What kind of monster could have done this to you?”

 

Storm laughed bitterly, “You’re holding at it.”

 

He looked at the child with eyes sheer of disbelief. He can’t be serious! The child is harmless, serenely protected by slumber in his arms. How can a being that looks this gentle could bring Storm into that state?

 

“When we tried to take that child from the hospital, it attacked us. Mauron and the others were killed. I manage to withstand its savage assaults but it barely kept me standing,” Storm face grimaced in pain, his body had received more beatings that it exhibits. “My Lord, King Lyon’s death didn’t go in vain. He’d left this little fiend behind.” He shook his head, “You had no idea what this child is capable of.”

 

Lester listened to him in shock. Glancing back and forth from the child to him, he can’t bear to believe everything that Storm had narrated. An infant, who’s not even a day old, killed 3 battle-ridden Blade Werewolves and then badly injured the one that Lester believed to be the strongest of his kind.

 

What power does this child possess in order to perform all of those deeds disregarding the fact that the child just barely existed in the world.

 

“Storm,” he whispered.

 

Storm leaned up and met his gaze. “Yes my Lord.”

 

“As your new King, I want you to swear to me that from this day on you will never breathe a single word about the existence of this child.”

 

He inclined his head in compliance.

 

“The child must be kept hidden from the Staryeĭshiny and most of all from the Gods.”

 

“As you wish, my Lord.”

 

Without doubt, Lyon had already known that there is something special on his second child. That is reason that he’d done everything in his might just to conceal its conceiving and ensure the safety of the child once the right moment of its birth had come.

 

Lyon tysyachi glaz Senphena, or Lyon the Thousand Eyes, a warlord that constructed countless of faultless battle plans that brought him to victory upon all his battles. And even until now, even in his death, he still continues to perform perfect battle plans and still continuously winning.

 

 

18 years later

 

Seattle, Washington

2008

 

Dark clouds are gathering up in the heaven, fueling Storm with more unease as he leaped from rooftop to rooftop towards Dallas’ location. Earlier, using the Heat Sensor that he installed in the middle of the city, a device that can detect if any immortal had crossed from Emera to the mortal world. He’d made a huge mistake of informing Dallas about the detection in advance.

 

As process, they will try to negotiate things first with the newcomers if they will either voluntarily return to Emera or resist and fight them.

 

The problem is that Dallas doesn’t usually follow this kind of sequence and prefer to kill them immediately, saying that killing them will hurried things up than trying to make reasons with them.

 

Storm sighed in frustration. Landing and leaping to more constructions, he recollected the day that he ended up living in the mortal world with a task to look after Dallas.

 

Three years ago, the Savage Clan, one of the fiercest vampire clan in Emera ignited a fire for domination upon the other races. They gathered the other clans that share the same belief as them. The belief that vampire race should rule over the world of Mystics. Many answered on their call and formed an allegiance with them. Wars immediately followed. On every part of the Mystic Realm, countless clans of many races had fallen on the hands of the Savages.

 

But from the several vampire clans that they summon, one didn’t complied. And unfortunately, the one that matters the most.

 

The Shadows.

 

King Lester, Dallas’ older brother didn’t agree on their vision for utter domination, on their campaign for wars, and subjugation. He told them that their world looks fine as it used to be, and he loves the sight of it better left untouched. Mereos, the Savage King cursed him as a fool.

 

The Savage leader said that from all the immortals, the Shadow King must be the one that should have possess the greater urge for this battle.

 

“The gods had forsaken you and your entire family eons ago. The other Mystic races desired nothing than to exterminate your clan’s existence. Why would you not want to avenge this injustice that they had inflicted upon you?”

 

Those were the words that the Savage King throw on his King three years ago, on the day that he tried to convince him to their bidding. And even though that he just used those facts in order to convince the King, his words were the truth.

 

As a Dark Clan, the Shadows were abandoned and forsaken by the Gods of Mount Kaah.

 

Aside from his clan, the Blade Clan, the other races want nothing more than to have them gone.

 

Yet, Lord Lester’s decision remains unchanged.

 

“Like I said, I love the sight of our world untouched. As long as they don’t give a damn on me, I don’t give a damn on them either. And as long as they won’t swing the first blow on us, they can live their lives while we live ours.”

 

His answer angered Mereos. And the next day, a war was declared on them.

 

After that declaration of the Savages against the Shadows, Lord Lester ordered him to take Dallas away from Mysto, and took a hiding in Seattle. Knowing Dallas’ tendencies in battles, the Shadow King wants to evade any possibility that his younger sibling will acquire a lot of notice from the Gods through these wars. As a will of the late King Lyon summed up with his overprotectiveness as an older brother, Lord Lester wants the existence of his younger sibling to be remained hidden from everyone especially from the eyes of the Kaahn Gods.

 

Even though the Blood Moon is the annunciation to the world 18 years ago that a new Senphena has been born, everything else about the child was concealed up to the present. Not a single fact about Dallas was ever leaked from the walls of Mysto Castle, not even the child’s real name. Dallas remains as a faceless existence in the eyes of the immortals as well as to the Gods. They know that the Last Senphena is out there, but that is all they know.

 

Storm increased his speed. He needs to make it to the location in time before Dallas slaughters all the newcomers. Heading west, he looked at the GPS map on his PDA that is connected to the main computer of the Heat Sensor. Five werewolves had entered the mortal realm and fortunately they are still active.

 

A good sign, Dallas hasn’t made it to them yet. He needs to hurry.

 

The signals start disappearing. Oh-oh! Not a good sign. Not a good sign.

 

Several feral growls of agony emitted from his desired destination. Wolves’ growls, werewolves’ growls. He’s already late, Dallas is already there and the carnage has started.

 

The merciless slaughtering of the Last Senphena had just subsided at his arrival. On a light scarce top of a tall establishment near Elliot Bay, five werewolves’ corpses are scattered all over the place, ripped limb by limb, unidentified whether they shredded through blade or by hands.

 

A pair of cold and eerie eyes glowed in the darkness. Bloods dripped from its sharp claws.

 

By hands, definitely by hands.

 

The eyes moved to him, “You’re late. I was just done playing.”

 

Profile:

Name: Unknown

Alias: Dallas

Epithet: The Butcher

Birthday: 1990

Age: 18 more or less

Sex: Unknown

Race: Human/Vampire

Affiliation: Senphena Family

Clan: Shadow

Height: Unknown

Weight: Unknown

Weapon: Sword

Kills: 478, 921 and still counting

 

Storm shuddered. Deep and demonic, that is the type of voice that exudes from Dallas. “You talk to them first right?”

 

“Can I answer a lie?”

 

“No.”

 

“I didn’t.”

 

He groaned. It was expected but he still hoped. “Jeez! Dallas, the process is we talk first before we rip. Not the other way around.”

 

“Why should I?” A reason delivered in an icy demeanor. “That will spoil the fun.”

 

Bloodlust. If there is a literal embodiment on the word, it’s this demon in front of him. While other people including him tried to avoid any battle as often as possible. Dallas does the opposite and seeks it. Even said once that a Senphena’s true home is the battlefield and its true family is either thy self alone or the weapon at hand. A belief that the kid shares with the Primo Senphena, the 1^st Shadow King and the cruelest warrior that walked above the soil of Emera.

 

“Kid, killing is not fun.” He tried to reason it out again, hoping that someone is listening.

 

“Well, it’s fun for me.” Glancing around the bloody scene that surrounds them. “So what now?” Dallas added.

 

The second part of his job as the kid’s Guardian starts, disposing all the mess. “I’ll clean the place up and you, you head home.”

 

“Okay, just don’t forget to take the corpses to my garden. I’m sure that my Ghouls are hungry.”

 

He nodded. “Now go and take your rest.”

 

“I will. Goodbye.” The glowing eyes dispersed in the darkness, and the uncanny presence that he’d been tolerating since his arrival disappeared.