The Ninth Chapter
I’m sorry, Rozelyn. Your mother was already sick even before you’re born. Even though I’ve been your father’s mistress, I’ve been a good and caring mom to you, aren’t I?
Romaine’s apology resonates into the ears of Rozelyn as they were on their way to their secluded destination.
They were currently walking into the Fortress of the Rose; surrounded with myriad of trees and foliage along the path way. It made the place a bit darker if not for the ocherous lights of the well-arranged candles that illuminates their path.
The October Hunter’s Moon was brightly shimmering on the sky above. Rozelyn first thought that it was about to rain. Though she quickly remembers that they are god-damn supernaturally gifted vampires and werewolves. It is obviously impossible that none of the people—an Elemental—inside the fortress controlling the current weather.
Yet, Rozelyn once remembered that according to oriental superstitions, the first rain of the month is utterly blissful and full of luck. Because of that, she somehow debated if she’ll let the rain pour down with her Thaumaturge powers. The reason for her apparent hesitation is the fact that the place is ornamented with numerous decorations and hanging Halloween-like ephemeras.
These people are perhaps too excited for Halloween, Rozelyn unwittingly thought.
The land in which their lair was located was immensely spacious and expanse. She heard Romaine muttered earlier when they were driving that no vehicles are allowed within their covenstead’s area. All vehicles are located in a specific place outside the spiky iron gates, guarded by a valet.
The distance between the gate and the actual establishment were almost half a kilometre. The place is wrapped in shades of orange and black, courtesy of the dozen of ornamentals surrounding the area.
Perhaps for exercise and power training I guess, that’s why this is so arena-like.
The lass thought while briskly walking with her companions. Her long black dress was swaying gracefully as she walked; along with her untied raven-black hair and her hour-glass shaped body.
“Here we are!” Romaine remarked as they reached the apparent lair of their kind.
Rozelyn jerked her head and feasted her eyes on the heart-stopping scenery.
The Fortress of the Rose was no doubt gives justice to the name it was given.
The old English style manor was shrouded with red roses all over its entirety. Its thorny vine-like stems engulfed the roof and the body of the fortress.
She was in utter awe. Amidst of its century-old ambiance, the moderness and the contemporary aura still lingers in this remote covenstead.
The wide door that acts as the gateway between the outside world and the creatures of the night was made from sturdy oak materials. The entrance door was huge and gigantic; its front was covered in etched roses and rose-like swirling designs. A web of lustrous brown colour enlaces the shape of a moonflower by the right side and the figure of the blood rose on the left side.
A moment later, a burgundy-haired and sapphire-blue-eyed voluptuous woman—who was also wearing the same dress as hers—twisted the purple-colored doorknob and the huge oak door was now widely open.
“Welcome to the Fortress of the Rose.”
The voice was not loud, but not soft either. Her voice was ethereal. It sounded like the very voice of Mother Nature if only she can speak. Her kind eyes and vibrant red lips tell Rozelyn that this person can be both good and bad at the same time.
“Hemera Bellamy. The current Grand Vampire of the coven.”
Hemera then proceeded to a curtsy bow and looked straightly at her emerald green eyes.
“This is my stepdaughter, Rozelyn Nadeshiko Zadzisai,” Romaine introduced.
“Ah, yes. The only Thaumaturge of the twenty-first century is now standing in the very threshold of our sacred space,” Hemera remarked.
“Well, why don’t the three of you come inside? I suppose you were informed that the Housewarming Ceremony is held at the grand ballroom and not on the outside lawn, didn’t you?”
“Housewarming Ceremony? I thought this place is ancient,” Rozelyn queried as she raised her right brow and trailed behind the three.
“That is not our context of the Housewarming Ceremony, darling. For vampires and werewolves, the Housewarming Ceremony is an essential tradition to mark the beginning of the month of the Hunter Moon,” Hemera replied.
“The Housewarming Ceremony is a formal gathering celebrated by our kind—the vampires and werewolves—that exactly happens on the first month of October. This is a time for our gathering and camaraderie that marks the beginning of the darkness season—the winter season. Although it is still autumn, we are already preparing prior to our mourning for the apparent hibernation of our sacred flowers—the Blood Rose and the Moonflower respectively,” Romaine added as they turn by the corner of the manor.
The interiors of the fortress were flooded with shades of red, black, blue, and silver. Glimpses of golden colours were also visible in the furnitures and other stuff.
The size of the wooden aspen door tells Rozelyn’s that the room was utterly huge and spacious.
A pair of candelabra situated at the either side of the red door greeted Rozelyn as they halt by the room. The candles’ faint lights quickly reminded her of her last romantic date with Eoghan.
It was Cyrill who courteously offered to open the door for them. Rozelyn somehow forgot that Cyrill was actually with them if not for his pine snow and blue rose scent.
Thirty people were present in the Victorian-style ballroom. Rozelyn actually loves to count people and visitors in any occasion ‘cause she’s always making sure that she knows how many people have attended—if there is someone who didn’t attend or if there is someone who unexpectedly disappeared.
They are grouped into eight. Some are wearing attires like hers and some are wearing outfits identical to Cyrill’s.
The crisp air began to smell fragrant and redolent—courtesy of the newly lighted incense.
The room smells of Rosewood and Palo Santo incenses, Rozelyn thought upon recognizing the scent.
Cyrill, Romaine, and Hemera approached some of the groups before stopping. Their bodies are all facing her.
She was the only one in the center while the eight clustered vampires and werewolves quietly glared at her for a few seconds—as if a nest of snakes were gawking a delicate dove.
It was Hemera who silently approach her with a firm posture and relentless eyes.
“Welcome, vampling to the Fortress of the Rose and to the Sanctum of the Moon,” Hemera emotionlessly spoke to Rozelyn.
“A vampling is a newly activated vampire. A wolfling is what you call a newly activated werewolf. There are cases that a two vampire or werewolf mated and bore a pure blood, or to what we call as a cradle vampire or cradle werewolf,” the Grand vampire lectured.
She was now on her right side facing the thirty audiences.
“I am a cradle vampire and a Solarian.” Hemera then looked at Rozelyn in the eyes. The latter seems to detect that the woman is fully aware of her abilities.
I know you’re the only one who can read all our thoughts, Nadeshiko.
Rozelyn was surprised for two things: one was the fact that Hemera seems to be aware of her mind-reading abilities; the second reason is that the sapphire-eyed Hemera is the only one who calls her by her second name.
They were the only two conversing in the entire manor—both mentally and vocally. The attention of the whole place, even the ancient walls of this fortress, seems to be wholly focused into her and to her only.
“Vampires and Werewolves…” The spectators then synchronously blinked their eyes as if they’ve rehearsed this a multiple times as soon as Hemera’s voice reverberates in the ballroom.
“Before we formally commence our Housewarming Ceremony, let us first witness the mighty gifts of our one and only Thaumaturge.”
Rozelyn was utterly and absolutely surprised by that announcement. She was not oriented about showcasing her powers to a small crowd. She was definitely not prepared—both in mind and in her body.
She’s on a panic mode; a turbulence of emotions began to swarm inside her. The room was frigid but big drops of sweats flow down from her.
She hasn’t master all of her powers yet. She didn’t even know the extent and the types of powers she possessed for the past three weeks. Cyrill was busy with his job and Romaine was even more occupied to her artist career due to the fact that a prestigious art exhibit was set to happen on the second week of October.
She was indeed cascading into a sea of anxiety.
“Shall we begin?”
The grand vampire muttered with a challenging gaze.
A Thaumaturge is the most gifted and most powerful vampire or werewolf. Show us that you are definitely giving the title an ample amount of justice…and respect.
Hemera’s voice echoed in the corners of her floating brain.
Without any choice, she deeply inhaled and hoisted her open palms into the air.
Their eyes also followed every intricate detail of her movement.
One..two..three…four…
As Rozelyn count to five, she moved and waved and folded her hand in a powerful gesture in order to summon the embers of her flames and call forth the tendrils of her water-conjuring abilities.
But, none of those came out.