The Drabardi

In the morning, Maverick boards a train bound for London. He settled into his seat, the gentle rocking of the train providing a soothing backdrop as he pulled out his memo book. 

Writing work reports had been a habit of his for the past decade, and even though his latest escapade was far from a typical assignment, he couldn't help but document everything that had happened over the past few days.

As he recalled the events: meeting Cherie on train, the vampire attack in the town, the confrontation in the grandeur mansion, and their final encounter with the noble vampire.

Each moment was meticulously detailed, and he occasionally paused to consider the implications of his experiences, the mysteries left unsolved, and the future that lay ahead.

In a separate note, he also mentioned things that he did with Julius that left him with a strong impression of a place, an event and people.

As Maverick finished his writing, he closed the memo book and looked out the window. The landscape of France passed by in a blur of green fields and distant towns. 

He couldn't help but wonder where Julius had gone. Julius had vanished without a word, leaving Maverick with more questions than answers.

Suddenly, a voice broke through his thoughts. "Pardon me, sir," a woman said softly. Maverick turned to see a woman in her early-twenties sitting opposite him. She had brown eyes and long, curly black hair, dressed in a simple yet elegant red dress. She smiled warmly at him.

"How was your trip?" she asked, her eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Maverick hesitated for a moment, caught off guard by the sudden conversation. "It was... interesting," he replied politely, a faint smile on his lips. "I had a good time, I suppose."

The woman nodded, her smile widening. "I'm glad to hear that. My name is Balbina, and I am a Drabardi," she introduced herself, her tone gentle and inviting. "I have a gift for predicting people's futures and offering advice. If you'd like, I could do a reading for you."

Maverick considered her offer for a moment. It wasn't something he'd usually entertain, but given everything he'd been through, he thought it might be worth a try. "Sure, I've got some time," he agreed.

Balbina's eyes lit up with excitement as she reached into her bag and pulled out a small crystal ball. She placed it on the table between them, its surface catching the light and reflecting a myriad of colors.

"Now, just relax and focus on your thoughts," Balbina instructed, her voice soothing. She placed her hands on the crystal ball and closed her eyes, a serene expression on her face.

Maverick watched as Balbina seemed to fall into a trance, her hands hovering over the crystal ball. He felt a strange sensation, as if the air around them had shifted, becoming charged with a subtle energy.

After a few moments, Balbina opened her eyes and looked at Maverick, her gaze intense. "I see a long journey ahead of you, one filled with many challenges and choices. You will meet people who will shape your path, and you will face dangers that will test your resolve."

Maverick listened intently, his curiosity piqued by her words.

"There is someone you care about, someone who has gone away," Balbina continued, her voice gentle. "They are on their own journey, but your paths will cross again. You must trust in the bond you share, for it will guide you through the darkness."

Maverick's thoughts immediately went to Julius. He couldn't help but wonder if their paths would indeed cross again. He nodded slowly, taking in her words.

"Also, together, you and them will become a pair of powerful couples, lovingly accompanying each other until…until.." Balbina suddenly stopped. She rolled her eyes inside her closed eyelids, she seemed confused.

Maverick as well, seemed confused just as she did. Why did it suddenly turn to a love reading, Maverick wondered.

After a few moments, Balbina continued,"without an end." then open her eyes, end the reading.

Maverick was looking at her sternly, but didn't say a word.

Balbina smiled frantically, "Well, the future's not set in stone. It is shaped by the choices we make. Trust your instincts and have faith in yourself."

Maverick doesn't seem to buy it, but instead of exposing her, he politely thanks her. "Thank you for your advice."

"You're welcome." Balbina then extended her hand toward Maverick. "It's two gold coins."

Maverick furrowed his brow. "I thought it was a complimentary."

"I never said that," Balbina replied with a big wide smile.

As the train pulled into the station in London, Maverick gathered his belongings and stepped out onto the platform. The city was bustling with activity, a sharp contrast to the quiet introspection he had experienced on the journey.

After a brief pause, Maverick hired a private stagecoach to take him to Birmingham. As he settled into the comfortable seat of the coach, he felt a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. 

Birmingham was the city where he was born and raised until he was ten, but he hadn't returned since the tragedy that took his parents away.

The rhythmic clatter of the stagecoach wheels and the gentle sway of the carriage lulled Maverick into a reflective state. He found himself drifting back to that fateful day in Dover, a day that had changed his life forever.

It had been a warm summer day, and the Beecham family was enjoying their holiday at their summer house near the beach. Ten-year-old Maverick had been sitting by the seaside, his sketchbook open on his lap as he tried to capture the beauty of the scenery with his pencil.

His mother approached him, her smile as bright as the sun reflecting off the water. She was a beautiful and cheerful woman, always full of life and laughter. "What are you drawing, my little artist?" she asked playfully, peering over his shoulder.

Maverick smiled up at her. "The waves, the sky, everything," he replied, his solemn demeanor softening in her presence.

She laughed, a sound that always filled Maverick with joy. "You and your father, always seem so serious. It's a good thing you have my looks," she teased, pointing to the mole on the right side of his chin. "It's our little family mark."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the ocean, Maverick and his mother walked hand in hand along the shoreline. She talked about his father's busy schedule and how she wished they could spend more time together. Despite her complaints, there was love in her voice.

When they returned to the summer house, Maverick's father was waiting for them, and dinner was ready. The meal was lively, thanks to his mother's cheerful nature, and even his father seemed to relax in her presence.

After dinner, Maverick returned to his room to continue his drawing. He was so absorbed in his work that he lost track of time. As bedtime approached, he changed into his sleepwear and prepared to go to bed. Suddenly, he heard a loud thud from the first floor, startling him.

Before he could react, his mother burst into his room, her breath heavy and labored. Even in the darkness, Maverick could smell the metallic scent of blood on her. He looked up at her, fear and confusion in his eyes. "Mother, what's happening? Where's father?"

She knelt down and placed a trembling hand on his shoulder, her voice strained but gentle. "Everything will be alright, Maverick." She guided him towards the cupboard in his room. "I need you to hide in here and don't come out until I come back, no matter what you hear. Understand, my sweetheart?" She kisses Maverick's forehead.

Maverick nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He climbed into the cupboard and closed the door, his mother's final words echoing in his mind. He waited in the darkness, his senses heightened, listening for any sign of his mother's return.

Time seemed to stretch on endlessly, and his mother never came back. He stayed hidden, just as she had instructed, until he heard a familiar voice calling his name.

"Maverick!" someone shouted his name. "Maverick, where are you?"

The weakened young Maverick woke up from his sleep when he heard someone call his name.

"Maverick, please." 

The cupboard door opened, and a face appeared, a mixture of relief and sorrow in his eyes. He reached in and gently pulled Maverick out, holding him close. It was his uncle, Lawrence Beecham.

 "It's alright, Maverick. I'm here now."

Maverick clung to his uncle, the realization of what had happened sinking in. His parents were gone, taken from him by a tragedy he couldn't fully comprehend. He buried his face in his uncle's chest and wept, the pain and loss overwhelming him.

As the stagecoach continued its journey towards Birmingham, Maverick sat in silence, the memory of that night etched deeply in his mind. He knew that returning to his childhood home would be difficult, but he felt it was something he needed to do.