He Who Not Be Named

Draven took a step backwards, away from 'The Mother'

"Seriously, Older Sister." Mother Annabelle said. "Is such a display necessary? You're putting Mister Draven here on edge."

She was right. Draven was on edge.

Not only was this woman somehow the younger sister of the first-ranked vampire, but what was strangest about her was the fact that she had not an ounce of power coming from her body.

That can't be possible. The leader of the humans must be stronger.

"How..." Vespera whispered. "You're supposed to be dead."

Annabelle let out a cute chuckle.

"And Mister Draven was supposed to be in an eternal sleep." She responded. "Not everything goes as expected."

Vespera remained on her knees, staring at her younger sister.

Can they truly be sisters? One of their eyes are purple, and the others is gold. Though they do have the same colour of hair...

But more importantly, one is a Thornsoul vampire, whilst the other is a human.

"Well then, I'd hate for the tea to get cold. Shall we head inside?"

Annabelle turned and made her way inside the room.

Draven tapped Vespera on her shoulder, ushering her to stand and follow.

"I'm sorry, Lord Draven, but I can't. My suspicions have been confirmed and I cannot face my sister. Not yet."

Draven looked at her; she had some sort of sorrow in her eyes, which only made him curious.

She rose to her feet.

"I must go home. Please, we can speak when you return."

Then, without another word, the butler led her back to the palace entrance.

A very interesting situation...

"Well then," Draven said to himself, before heading inside after Annabelle and closing the door behind him.

The chambers were what you'd expect, though they seemed to be more of a guest room.

At its centre was a dining table with a bunch of teapots and cups on its surface.

Annabelle took a seat on one of the wooden chairs and gestured to the chair opposite.

"Please sit, Mister Draven. There is much for us to talk about."

Draven did as she said, and took a look inside of the cup.

It seemed to be a simple blueleaf tea, a common beverage for humans.

They both took a sip. The drink was sweet.

"So, you decided to wake from your slumber and deal with the Whiteyes," Annabelle said bluntly, breaking the silence.

Draven wasn't surprised that the news had spread. It was inevitable.

"Odalys left me no choice. Anybody that strikes against my people will suffer the same consequences." He responded brashly.

Annabelle looked at him with a raised eyebrow, yet her face remained joyful.

"I'm sure you have a lot of enemies then. You've been attacked by almost everybody during your sleep."

Draven did not reply, since no question was asked.

The Mother continued, tone slightly more serious.

Why do they call her The Mother? She is no older than 20?

"Including the werewolves... They have been attacking you the most."

Draven took another sip of the blueleaf tea.

"They have." He said, with no plans on telling her that they were next on his list to kill.

In truth, every race was on his list, with his new goal of world domination. But of course, he need not tell her that.

She would find out soon.

"I hope you don't take this as an offence." The mother said. "But I believe that you underestimate the werewolves... No, I believe you underestimate all of the races. You have been asleep for so long, things are not as they used to be."

Draven was slightly taken aback but did not show it.

Of course, he knew that the other clans were more powerful than he would have guessed.

But it simply did not matter.

He was more powerful.

"You're probably right. I might be underestimating you all more than you even know it. But it simply does not matter. You've read the history books, you know what I have done. Of the battles I have fought. I am the strongest living being in Velhalla."

Draven spoke with utmost confidence, believing every word that he said with his entire heart.

Annabelle seemed to recoil from his small speech.

Is that fear I smell?

His lips twisted into a smirk.

"Of course Mister Draven. There isn't a soul in Valhalla that doesn't know of your strength. But what I mean to say is that many have been chasing power in unconventional ways. Ways that would have been shunned during the times that you were last on this world... Things are truly different." Annabelle's voice had lost all of its playfulness.

Draven's face twisted with slight anger.

"Like you humans and your science?" He spat.

She dares to speak of unconventional power when she mingles with the unknown.

The Mother hung her head in sorrow and continued to speak. Voice merely a whisper.

"No, Draven." She said. "Science is merely the pursuit of knowledge... The Werewolves, however, mingle with a power far darker."

The Vampire Lord looked at the woman, waiting for her to finish her sentence.

And as she did, Draven was filled with chills, something extremely uncommon for him.

"Lunaris Ashwolf, daughter of Fenrir. She is not a mere werewolf... She has touched the other side."

She looked deeply into Draven's eye's. Afraid even herself to speak the next words.

As she uttered the name out of her mouth.

"She has spoken to Galvacaniva, The Broken God."

Draven's heart dropped into his chest as he repeated the name inside of his head.

Galvacaniva... He Who Not be Named.