Ivy-máire

The girl was bored. She had thrown herself into the worn-out armchair and impatiently tapped her shoe tips on the faded carpet. Her gaze wandered once again to the old grandfather clock in the corner. It had only been five minutes since she last looked. Latona let out a long sigh, but there was no one around to take notice. How much longer would this take? The night progressed, but Latona felt no fatigue. Going to bed was not even worth a fleeting thought as long as her uncle was lurking outside. In dark, dangerous Rome!

Latona sprang up and began to pace restlessly back and forth. Again and again, her gaze fell on the mirror hanging above the dresser. She stopped. The somewhat cloudy surface of the mirror reflected the image of a medium-sized figure, slender, almost a little gaunt. The long dark hair was already coming loose from the carelessly pinned-up knot. The cheekbones were prominent, and the doe-brown eyes looked serious. She couldn't really be called beautiful, unfortunately, Latona had to admit once again. Not like the other girls she had once attended the daughters' school with, who would soon be dolled up by their families for the marriage market and presented at garden parties and balls. For that, she seemed older than the fourteen years she had already experienced. Perhaps it was because of her eyes, which had seen things that the other girls might be spared forever. Things that haunted her dreams. Yes, it was written in her brown eyes. Uncle Carmelo had noticed it too.

"That's not good," he had said tonight and once again refused to take her with him. Wasn't it a bit late to exclude her now and leave her in uncertainty about how things would turn out? Latona snorted indignantly and resumed her pacing. She stopped in front of the clothes rack in the corner. There hung the old-fashioned coat with the shoulder cape that her uncle only wore on a certain occasion. Her hand slipped into the pocket and felt the object that belonged to the coat and to the secret he preferred to keep hidden from her. A few weeks ago, however, when he had drunk too much wine, she had managed to coax some sentences out of him that he seemed to regret since. At least he had repeatedly asked her to forget the thoughtless words. Precisely for that reason, Latona held onto them in her mind, letting them circle in her head again and again. She draped the cloak over her shoulders and stood before the mirror. The heavy fabric fell to her ankles and concealed the slender girl's body. She pulled the red velvet mask out of the pocket and tied it over her face. Her eyes looked almost black between the slits, and she felt taller - more powerful.

"The Circle of the Red Masks," the girl murmured, listening to the words as they faded in the shabby room. In the empty room, where her uncle had once again left her alone. Latona clenched her fists and stared at her reflection, so foreign to her. From now on, everything would change! She was tired of being treated like the orphaned little child that Carmelo had burdened himself with against his will. She was almost grown up, and she would now be more than just his annoying niece. His collaborator and confidante! His assistant in hunting down the evils of the night!

The lid was pushed aside. "I wish you a good evening, young sir," said the servant politely. Apparently effortlessly, he lifted the heavy slab and leaned it against the wall. Franz Leopold didn't bother to return the greeting. He leisurely climbed out of the mighty stone sarcophagus. He shed the clothes of the previous night, in which he had also rested, and let them fall to the ground. Matthias hurried to collect the garments and then helped his young master into a fresh suit, which he had just brushed again to ensure that not a speck of dust marred the fine black fabric. With outstretched arms, Franz Leopold stood there as Matthias helped him into his shirt and trousers, buttoned his waistcoat, and tied his white bow tie. Franz Leopold patiently waited until the servant had combed his hair and tied it back with a black ribbon at the nape of his neck. Despite his sturdy build and large hands, Matthias handled him surprisingly gently.

He is all too aware that I know how to punish him if he behaves clumsily, thought Franz Leopold, smiling. He glanced over the five coffins with satisfaction, noting that his was the largest and most magnificent. The resting places of the two Romans, Luciano and Maurizio, were old, the inscriptions and reliefs weathered, and Fernand slept in a completely unadorned stone coffin, but apparently, that didn't bother him. While the Dracas had their servants dress them and the two shadows of the young Roman vampires at least brushed their clothes for them, Fernand sat on the edge of his coffin, letting his short legs dangle. At twelve years old, he was the youngest in this dormitory. Apparently, he had no "Unreinen" to take care of him, and he didn't seem to miss it either. His clothes, in any case, looked as if no one had cared for them for years. The trousers were baggy and dirty, the coat shapeless and torn in two places. Franz Leopold curled his upper lip in disgust.

"I wonder in what pigsty they live in Paris," said Karl Philipp, following his cousin's gaze.

Fernand just grinned, revealing a missing front tooth. "We live in a labyrinth of passages and chambers under the city. You would be amazed at how immense it is."

With that, the subject seemed closed to him. He leaned over his coffin and whistled softly through the gap in his teeth. There was a rustle, then a well-fed rat ran up his sleeve and settled on his shoulder. He stroked its back.

"Ah, you've already found your breakfast," taunted Franz Leopold. "That's disgusting!"

Fernand shook his head vigorously. "No, she's my companion, whom I take with me everywhere!"

"Where have we ended up?" groaned Franz Leopold as Matthias helped him into his perfectly tailored tailcoat. With his head held high, he left the dormitory.

"No, wait, before you sit down!" called Signora Enrica, raising her arms. She was wearing her simple dark dress again and had her hair tied up in a tight bun.

The students, who had grouped themselves into small clusters around the double benches, paused. The four Londoners of the Vyrad family were already seated at the front, while Luciano and the other two from Rome were trying to squeeze into the back benches. Bored, Franz Leopold stood beside the door. The classroom was located in an almost square hall, its slightly narrower sides adorned with a double row of columns. In the middle, it seemed that a wall had been built and then knocked out again at some point. Through a door, one could see a nymphaeum with a large water basin, around which several statues were gathered.

"Since we want to learn from our respective abilities and strengths in this academy, instead of continuing to fight each other, we would like members of different families to always share a bench. So, choose your seats now."

Franz Leopold observed Luciano as he approached Alisa and bowed to her. "Shall we share a bench?" She smiled and nodded, and the two sat down at a table in the middle.

Gradually, the pairs came together. Chiara slid over to the blond, handsome Raymond from London on one of the front benches. His older brother shared the neighboring bench with Anna Christina. The two, at sixteen years old, were the oldest students. Alisa's brother, Tammo, sat next to the burly Joanne from Paris. He would have liked to hide in the back row, but Signora Enrica waved the two to the front row's last free bench. Tammo sighed theatrically and rolled his eyes but resigned himself to his fate.

Soon, almost all seats were taken. Marie Luise seemed the most unhappy, finding herself unexpectedly next to Fernand again. His rat still perched audaciously on his shoulder. The petite Viennese girl gathered her silk dress and moved as far away from her grubby benchmate as possible. In the end, only two benches were left, and the two Dracas remained. They sat behind Alisa and Luciano, and Franz Leopold leaned forward.

"Ah, our little Luciano is clever, hiding under his rescuer's skirts," Franz Leopold teased, peering under the table of the two. "Quite torn skirts, by the way. Which is not surprising considering your stature. Perhaps she should get a hoop skirt so you can hide underneath it more easily."

A cane whizzed past his nose, striking the tabletop with a resounding crack. Franz Leopold flinched. A few other students, who had been whispering with their new benchmates or simply dozing off, startled awake.

Slowly, his gaze shifted to the stern visage of Signora, who was scrutinizing him with narrowed eyes. She must have been darn fast to make it to his desk without him noticing her approach.

"So, you think you don't need to listen to me?" Her voice was brittle. "You're a Dracas from Vienna, aren't you? I observed your family yesterday. You, of all people, should pay close attention in this class. I imagine your bishops and priests in Vienna have you in their claws and are slowly but surely squeezing the blood out of you. Your task is to learn how to fight against that! Only then can you save your clan from certain doom."

She turned abruptly, causing her skirts to sway, and returned to the lectern. "I had planned to introduce you to the history of Rome and talk about the beginnings of the Christian faith, but I might as well postpone that until tomorrow. Let's start with a practical exercise. A volunteer for a small experiment?" She smiled so broadly that her canine teeth glittered in the lamplight. The students looked at each other uncertainly. Finally, Maurizio and Chiara hesitantly raised their hands.

"Thank you, my dears, but in this case, I'd like another candidate. Now, Franz Leopold, how about you?" He returned her cold gaze, which also didn't radiate warmth. "Come to the front!"

Should he refuse? He could see in her eyes that she would like to make an example of him. He didn't want to do her that favor. He rose as slowly as possible and sauntered to the front of the room. Signora Enrica picked up a piece of chalk and drew something on the large slate board on the wall. Then she turned to Franz Leopold.

"Can you recognize what this is?"

He considered mocking her pitiful drawing skills but refrained and replied lazily, "That's supposed to be a fish, Signora."

She nodded, ignoring his insolent tone. "Yes, that's correct. Come here and touch it with your fingers."

What was the point of this? Franz Leopold reached out his hand and smudged the tail of the fish. "Yes, and?"

Instead of answering, the professor returned to the board and drew a symbol that also seemed to represent a fish but consisted of only one line and vaguely resembled a distorted eight. "Touch it!"

Franz Leopold raised his hand boredly. But when he touched the chalk line, he recoiled in surprise. It felt as if the chalk dust was vibrating. His fingers tingled.

"I can see from your expression that you feel something. Describe it to us," the professor prompted. He was too surprised to resist.

Without further explanation, Signora Enrica lifted a small stone slab with the same symbol and instructed him to touch the image. Franz Leopold was now warned and expected a reaction. Nevertheless, his hand recoiled as a beam of hot pain shot up his arm, even though he was several steps away!

"Now?" Signora Enrica seemed very pleased. "Can you explain that?"

Franz Leopold shook his head and rubbed his fingertips. She sent him back to his seat and turned to the class. "Does anyone recognize this symbol?"

Slowly, Luciano raised his hand. "It's a symbol of the early Christians and means something related to their faith in Greek."

"Our little chubby one wants to butter up Signora with his little nuggets of knowledge." Franz Leopold attempted to send his thoughts to the bench in front of him and was pleased to note that Luciano stumbled and then fell silent. Instead, Malcolm, with a strong British accent, clarified the answer.

"The Greek word for fish is ichthys, and the early Christians read it as an acrostic: Iesous Christos Theou Yios Soter," Malcolm explained.

Signora Enrica nodded. "Exactly: Jesus Christ, Son of God, Savior. It was a kind of creed and a secret sign. But why could Franz Leopold touch the fish on the board without difficulty, while he clearly felt the power of the church when he approached the stone slab, even before he got near it? - It was painful, wasn't it?" His nod brought a smile to her stern face. The students looked at each other questioningly. Some shrugged.

"Good, then another question. If I were to take you to different places in Rome: an old church and a brand new one that was just consecrated, or to a prayer room in the catacombs of the early Christians. What do you think would be worst for you?"

"The new church?" Ireen suggested.

"Why?" the professor asked back. All eyes turned to the youngest of the London vampires. Ireen lowered her eyes a little embarrassed.

"I think because the blessings and everything done during a consecration are still fresh."

"A good thought," Signora Enrica admitted. "But that's not the decisive factor! I tell you, even now, when we haven't even started your training, you wouldn't suffer too much harm if you entered a new church. Even the new crosses and holy pictures aren't worth much, because the spirit of faith has been lost to people today. Especially in Rome! So much hypocrisy, so much hunger for power under the cloak of the church. They only pray for money and fame. The mysteries have been lost. All they want is for science to explain everything. They can't explain us with that, so many people push aside the sheer possibility of our existence. A tremendous advantage! Those who don't believe in us don't even think to protect themselves from us."

"So the greatest power of the Christian church resides in the old catacombs," Raymond concluded. Chiara next to him nodded vigorously. "Yes, even for us - who wouldn't even flinch at entering a church - it's difficult to enter."

"Are those sprawling labyrinths?" Joanne wanted to know.

"You better believe it!" Chiara confirmed. "Outside the old city walls, there are miles of underground passageways on several levels. I don't even know if all of our Elders are aware of them."

Joanne's eyes lit up. "That sounds exciting and reminds me of our underground Paris. I would love to see that sometime!"

Tammo next to her looked skeptical and cast a worried glance at his sister.

Signora Enrica called for the students to quiet down and summarized the first lesson again: "So, a sacred object draws its power from the faith of the person who creates or uses it."

"And what does that do for us now?" Fernand interjected, running a dirty hand through his hair, which looked equally dusty. "If something is holy, then it's dangerous, so we'd rather stay away from anything that even remotely smells like a church? That's what we've always done!"

The professor pressed her lips together. She looked at the grubby boy angrily. "No, that's not what it means at all. When we approach a holy place or object, we must open our senses to perceive how great its power is. If we can assess that, then we can decide whether we are capable of handling its effect on us or not." She suddenly fell silent. A large black cat had squeezed through the door crack and run to Maurizio, a fat, still wriggling rat in its mouth. He took the rat, bit into its throat, and sucked it dry. Then he dropped the carcass under his desk.

Signora Enrica reprimanded him. "What does this mean?"

Maurizio shrugged. "You know that I've trained my cat Ottavio to bring me all the rats he can catch." There was pride in his voice.

Signora stared at him. Her long finger pointed to the rat carcass. "I don't care what you do out in the ruins, but not here in the academy's rooms! I won't say this a second time."

"Yes, Aunt Enrica," Maurizio said languidly.

"Yes, Signora Enrica!" she snapped at him and then turned abruptly to show the class the old stone tablet with the fish symbol once again. "So, first of all, we must always strive to know the strengths of our enemies. Only then can we decide whether to confront them. We Nosferas have it a little easier in this regard, as over the generations, we've developed a kind of resistance to the church's powers. It's stronger in some, weaker in others."

"That's pretty unfair," Tammo whispered to his benchmate.

"But the rest of you will also learn how to harness and use your powers effectively," the Signora continued. She held up the image and looked around. "Alisa, come forward."

Schadenfreude echoed in her mind, and the image of charred fingertips appeared before her inner eye. She spun around and shot Franz Leopold an angry glance before walking forward with tripping steps, careful not to let her skirts open too wide.

The professor instructed her to stretch out her hand and approach the image until she could feel a tingling sensation. Alisa was still more than five steps away when her fingertips began to ache. She stopped and looked at Signora Enrica questioningly. The professor explained how she should seek the energy within herself and shape it in her mind like a shield. Twice Alisa tried to follow the instructions and get closer to the image.

"She'll never manage that," Franz Leopold said disdainfully.

"Shut up!" Tammo hissed. "You have no idea. What she already knows, you won't learn in a hundred years."

"Quiet!" Signora Enrica called out. "And you, concentrate!"

Maybe it was anger at Franz Leopold or her own weakness, which was so unfamiliar, but suddenly it seemed to Alisa that she could feel the power within herself. She concentrated it on her outstretched hand and quickly took two steps forward. At the third step, the renewed pain froze her.

"Yes, that wasn't bad," Signora Enrica praised. "Try to come a little closer."

After two more attempts, the professor ended the exercise. She sent Alisa back to her seat and called Ireen, but suddenly she stopped mid-motion. "Silence!" she commanded in such a sharp voice that everyone fell silent and stared forward. Her head jerked to the right toward the closed door nearest to the desk. She audibly sucked in air. "A wolf?"

The students also turned to the door, where now muffled sounds were coming in. The handle was pushed down, a draft extinguished the front oil lamps. An older man with a wiry build and graying hair, still tinged with a bit of red, entered, followed by a young woman. Her face was pure and beautiful, her hair falling in thick red braids down her back. She held back a bit behind him but kept her gaze attentive as she scanned the classroom.

"Yes?" the professor asked a bit harshly.

"Ah, Signora Enrica, if I'm not mistaken? We haven't had the pleasure yet. I'm Donnchadh," he introduced himself, nodding his head. "And this is my shadow, Mistress Catriona. Our ship encountered stormy waters, forgive the delay."

"You're the clan leader of the Lycana, I've heard of you. Welcome," said the professor, who seemed to have regained her composure. Nevertheless, her nostrils flared, and Franz Leopold could also scent the wild animal.

"Now, I may finally introduce you to our two young Lycanas from Ireland," Donnchadh stepped aside. First, a boy of about fifteen entered. He was tall, lean but muscular, with short reddish hair. He looked around the classroom seriously.

"This is Mervyn," the clan leader introduced him. Franz Leopold found him uninteresting after a brief assessment. He seemed so dull that he was neither suitable as an ally nor as a victim. Well, what could one expect from a family living in a remote fortress with nothing but grass and sheep on one side and the sea and countless seabirds on the other!

"And here we have Ivy-Máire!"

First, Franz Leopold noticed the white wolf that appeared behind Mervyn. He paused for a moment, allowing his yellow eyes to scan the young vampires attentively, as if searching for potential danger. Then, he whimpered briefly, moved aside, and sat back on his hind legs. A shiver ran down Franz Leopold's spine as he met the wolf's gaze for a fraction of a second. He was briefly distracted and only raised his head again when he heard the murmurs that swept through the hall.

"Ivy-Máire." The name surged through the room like a wave as the vampire stepped forward. She was at least a head shorter than Mervyn and very delicately built, almost fragile. But that wasn't what made Franz Leopold swallow hard. It wasn't her long silvery-white hair or the simple garment that shimmered in the same color. She wore no jewelry. Only around her wrist was a simple bangle made of green speckled stone. Franz Leopold couldn't even say exactly what it was that made her outshine all the others like the honey-yellow full moon does to the tiny stars in the night sky. Her face was narrow and finely chiseled, her eyes the color of turquoise. She looked around attentively, then bowed her head and greeted the professor and her classmates with a melodic voice. Franz Leopold swallowed again. Fragments of thoughts raced through his mind, and he felt dizzy, as if he didn't cling to his stool with both hands. He barely noticed Signora Enrica welcoming the newcomers from Ireland.

"Mervyn, Ivy-Máire, welcome to Domus Aurea. Sit down so we can continue with the lesson," she said, her forehead furrowing as she looked around the classroom. "Karl Philipp, move to the next bench so they can sit next to you. And you, sir, surely want to rejoin the clan leaders? I believe Conte Claudio will be pleased."

Donnchadh nodded. "Of course. Do not let us disturb your teachings any further." The Lycanas left and closed the door behind them. Without a sign of uncertainty, Ivy-Máire headed straight for the seat Karl Philipp had just vacated. Perhaps she wasn't even aware that everyone was staring at her. Without giving a command, the wolf rose and followed her. She stopped in front of Franz Leopold.

"Would you mind if I sit next to you?" she asked, and to his ears, it sounded like the song of sirens.

"Uh, yes," Franz Leopold managed to say, lowering his gaze. He was annoyed with himself. What was wrong with him? If he were human, he would probably have turned red as well! To avoid staring at the tabletop, he looked over at Luciano and caught his disappointed thoughts.

Of all people, this wonderful being has to sit next to the haughty Dracas!

Franz Leopold grinned maliciously. Everyone gets what they deserve, he sent to Luciano in his thoughts. The chubby Roman looked away and turned back to Signora Enrica, who continued her explanations where she had left off. She called Anna Christina, but she didn't even manage to approach the stone within four steps. Fernand, on the other hand, did quite well, and thanks to her heritage, Chiara even managed to touch the image.

Franz Leopold paid no attention to the lesson. He cast furtive glances at his new benchmate. Her wolf sat motionless beside her like a statue, seeming just as interested in Signora Enrica's explanations as his mistress. Franz Leopold couldn't resist. He had to know what moved Ivy-Máire. For a moment, he worried about what she thought of him, but quickly dismissed the question. Since when did he care what others thought of him? And then, a member of an inferior family as well!

He reached out his mind and directed his thoughts toward the white brow. Nothing. That was strange. He intensified his efforts. Nothing. Absolutely nothing!

Ivy-Máire turned her head and looked calmly into his eyes. "That's not very polite. Besides, you won't succeed with that."

"What? What are you talking about?"

She gave him another glance, which felt like a scorching bolt through his body, then turned her attention back to the professor.

Franz Leopold clenched his fists angrily. Who did the brat think she was, speaking to him like that? He would teach her to show him respect! Conceited creature! Had she read his thoughts or just guessed what he had done? Against his will, there was something like admiration mingled with his anger. He felt her swift side-glance, and her smile made him feel hot and cold. He would have to be on guard!