The Vampire Prince

PROLOGUE

The streets of Sera were crowded due to Summer Fest. People were laughing, chatting, and dancing in the streets. Watching from above, Rangi could see everything that went on.

He found that his own people and humans were very much alike. But one thing that his people, the vampires, didn't do was dump beer and other alcoholic beverages on themselves. Rangi watched in confusion as one man turned his mug over and let the liquid pour out on top of his companion's head. The two men laughed together and stumbled off into the crowd.

'Stupid drunks,' Rangi thought. 'Why did Kelemen send me out here in the first place? All he told me was I would know what to do when I saw the One Traitor. Who is the One Traitor?'

Sighing, Rangi shifted his weight so he could rest against the tree that he was sitting in. His eyes shifted once more over the crowd and then he looked up at the moon. It was past being full, which Rangi was thankful for. If he'd been doing this during the Moon Phase, he would have gone crazy.

Suddenly, something caught his eye. It was a silver object that flew through the sky faster than any bird Rangi had seen. But it had to be a bird; it had two wings that stuck out on either side of its long body.

The object came in the path of the moon's bright rays and Rangi gasped. It was as big as any wild cat could get maybe six feet in length from the tip of its nose to the tuft at the end of its long tail. Turning its giant head, Rangi gasped as he noticed the golden beak and silver feathers of the head. Silver eyes that shone as bright as any star met Rangi's own dark one's with a look of interest.

'A griffin!' Rangi thought. It had been years since Rangi had seen one and he still marveled at its magnificence. Rangi was one of the few vampires who thought that griffins were animals of pride and beauty.

As the griffin descended down towards him, Rangi bowed low on the branch. The griffin landed on a branch that was higher than the one Rangi sat on. Rangi and the griffin just stared at each other.

Suddenly, Rangi noticed something about the griffin's odd silver eyes. Normally, griffin eyes were like a human's, the pupil full. This griffin's eyes were silted, like a cat's. Like those of the vampire's, Rangi's own people.

But this peace was soon interrupted when a shot rung in the air. The griffin screeched and took off, heading up towards the moon again. Rangi paid no attention. He looked down at his chest. It was covered in blood. Rangi's body pitched forward, but he wasn’t afraid.

As he fell from the tree he only thought about the griffin. Lying on the ground, his life ebbing away, Rangi whispered, "Lucien is alive." But the only one who heard him was the night.

* * *
A large cliff towered over a dark forested gully. Standing on a large outcrop that came out of the cliff, a man watched the land below him. His dark brown hair was hanging in his face, hiding most of his face. He stood as still as a statue, not daring to move. Then his golden eyes picked up some movement on the ground. Sniffing the air, the man realized that whoever was down in that gully wasn’t someone he knew.

Slipping down the side of cliff, the man slowly made his way down towards the gully. He walked quickly, but quietly. You could tell that he knew how to get down the side of the cliff. It was something he had done several times before. Reaching the bottom of the tall cliff, the man stopped and listened. A sound so quiet that the man almost did hear it, came from up ahead.

Following a well worn path, the man silently got closer to his prey. The undergrowth didn’t even touch him as he made his way along the path. Smelling the air again, the man could tell that his prey was definitely one of his kind. ‘From the Hellion Clan,’ he thought. ‘And one that I recognize.’

Putting more speed into his walk, the man jogged along the path. Soon he could see his prey. It was a young boy, probably no older than fifteen. The boy’s black hair was tied back in a loose ponytail so it hung down his back. The man could tell that he knew these paths well, for he followed them with a quick, almost trot-like step.

Suddenly, the boy turned around. The man didn’t even try to hide himself. He recognized the boy.

“What are you doing this far from home Draven?” the man asked.

Draven looked the man in the eye and said, “You gave me a task Kelemen. Or have you forgotten? Why are you here anyway? I am a Hellson. I can take care of myself.”

“I have not forgotten about your task. And you may be a Hellson, but you are one that needs to be watched,” Kelemen said coolly. Then he added, “I was just wondering what brought you this direction.”

He looked at the young boy with an eye of suspicion. Kelemen knew this boy very well, having trained him himself, but now he wasn’t so sure that he knew everything about Draven.

“I was heading towards the city of Sera and see if my target was there. I have his full name and I know what he does for a living. Since Sera was the closest human city, I thought that I would start there,” Draven muttered.

He hated to have to tell this piece of werewolf flesh everything he did. Even though Kelemen has taught him how to track things and how to fight, Draven didn’t fully trust him. Draven had had issues with Kelemen in the past and he wasn’t going to forget those issues anytime soon.

“Good,” Kelemen whispered, looking down at what Draven was wearing; a tight black T-shirt and black pants. He didn’t wear shoes because if he had to scale a building, then they would make him loose his grip. “See me when you return. I want a full report of what happens in Sera.”

“Yes Kelemen,” Draven said, bowing to Kelemen. Kelemen turned away and walked back down the path. When he was far enough away, Draven turned and headed the other direction. Looking up at the sky through the tree tops, Draven could see that the moon wasn’t out.

‘That is good,’ he thought as he trotted down the path that had been worn down by generations of vampires. ‘I want to have a clear mind tonight if I find this Petar Singer. I don’t want to kill him and then be so crazy from the moon that I don’t clean up the mess.’

Breaking out into a run, Draven felt his energy soar and power rushing through his veins. Smiling to himself, he showed a set of flashing white teeth. But there was something odd about his teeth. His upper canines came down all the way down past his lower set and the lower canines came up to the roof of his mouth. They were fangs, ready to take a life.

ENTRY ONE: HUMANS AND VAMPIRES
FOLLOWS DRAVEN HELLSON AND TARANIS YAMIN.
BY DRAVEN HELLSON

Somewhere, deep in the Hell Forest, two figures moved silently through the trees. They paid little attention to their surroundings. Instead they were more interested in their conversation. Their whispers barely disturbed the sounds of the forest as they padded along.

“Dude, just ask her out," one whispered to the other. His long ponytail hardly made any movement as he quietly padded along and his golden eyes were steady, fixed on his companion.

“No way Draven!” the other hissed. “I am so not going to ask Eseld out! It’s was too… frightening and dangerous. You know what she did to Manu when he asked her out. She beat the crud out of him!”

“She did that only ‘cause it was Manu who asked. Manu is a girl-chaser,” Draven said. “And besides, you are much better looking than Manu is. Heck, I heard that Johanna has a huge crush on you, Taranis.”

Taranis was quiet for a moment before he said, “You are such a terrible liar Draven.”

“I am not lying!” Draven shouted, sounding offended.

“Drama queen,” Taranis yelled.

“Scared bat!” Draven taunted.

“Shut up,” Taranis grumbled.

Draven sighed loudly. “I am not a drama queen. I’m just tellin’ you like it is.”

Rolling his eyes, Taranis said, “Draven, girls like people like you. You are a nice guy, good looking, and you are the son of the Retuna.”

“That has nothing to do with this!” Draven squeaked. “This is totally off topic! And who told you to work on staying on topic?”

Taranis groaned. “Don’t bring up Jakob!” he said. “That guy is on my case every single day!”

“Well, it has to do with the fact that you get hurt a lot,” Draven reminded him. “That’s why you have to see him everyday. You need to take better care of yourself Taranis.”

“Why should I listen to you?” Taranis asked.

Draven turned on him and hissed, “Cause I’m a Tracker, that’s why.”

Turning back to the path, Draven walked on, leaving Taranis to catch up. Draven was around six feet tall, which made him taller than Taranis. His long legs allowed him to take bigger strides, forcing Taranis to have to run to catch up with him.

Suddenly, Draven caught a scent on the breeze. He sniffed again. His eyes narrowed in suspicion. ‘Where are the animals and the birds?’ he wondered.

“What’s wrong?” Taranis panted from behind him.

Draven didn’t answer. His golden eyes scanned the forest around them like a hawk looking for prey. Taking a couple steps forward, Draven heard a sound. It was faint, but his sharp ears could pick up on it.

Motioning to Taranis to follow, Draven crept forward slowly, all the while his eyes and ears alert for the slightest sign of life.

All of a sudden, something leapt out at Draven from behind a tree. Growling in anger, Draven turned to whatever was coming at him and rammed himself into it. Whatever it was grunted and fell backwards. Feeling his claws come out, Draven looked down at what had attacked him. It was a man and a very tall one at that. He was probably about Draven’s height.

“Who are you?” Draven asked.

“Does it matter?” the man asked. He smiled evilly up at Draven.

Draven’s eyes widened when he saw the man’s teeth. ‘No fangs!’ he shouted in his mind.

“Taranis, run!” Draven shrieked, turning to his friend. But before he could do anything, explosions sounded around them. Dirt, grass, and parts of trees flew through the air like frightened birds.

Taranis jumped just as another explosion erupted from behind him. The force of it knocked him forward and onto the ground.

“What is going on?” he asked, looking up at Draven in surprise.

“Humans,” Draven hissed as more explosives went off.

“Humans!” Taranis cried in horror. A human came out of the trees ahead of them. Smiling, the human held a grenade out, pulled out the stopper and threw it towards them.

“Let’s get outta here!” Taranis shouted as he jumped to his feet as started to fun.

“Copy that!” Draven responded, following Taranis into the trees. They were gone before the grenade even hit the ground.

“Do you think that they’ll follow us?” Taranis asked as they ran.

Jumping over the fallen tree, Draven said, “I don’t think so, but let’s head towards the Serwa border just in case they do. It’ll be easier to fight them out in the open. And plus, then we can’t get crushed by falling trees.” Then he added, “If they do follow us, then we can get them farther from the village. They’re too close to it for comfort.

Taranis nodded and they turned north. The village that Taranis and Draven lived in was just a couple of miles south of the place where they had been attacked. If they could get the humans away from that area, then their friends and families could be spared the horror of having to fight them inside the village.

Draven found that Taranis was having a hard time keeping up with him. After a quarter of a mile, Taranis looked like he was about to collapse, but Draven felt perfectly fine, keeping a steady pace that would match that of an Olympic runner.

Reaching the Serwa border, Draven stopped and covered his mouth and nose with his hand. The forest had thinned out into the muddy, foggy swamp which was the home of Serwa Clan. Smells drifted towards Draven. They were so pungent that they made him want to throw up.

“God, I hate this place,” Taranis panted from behind Draven.

“You do?” Draven asked. “I never knew.”

“You haven’t noticed that I always avoid Serwa Clan members at the Contests? I have for years. Can’t stand their scent,” Taranis said.

“What is it with you and how people smell?” Draven asked.

Taranis sighed. “I have an over-developed sense of smell.”

“Even for a vampire?”

“Even for a vampire.”

Draven had known Taranis all his life, but he had never noticed that Taranis could smell things better than everyone else. Maybe he had once noticed, but forgotten. What ever the case, Draven was still shocked.

Taranis sighed again and his face scrunched up in a disgusted look. “I hate how Serwa Clan smells. They would have to take 20 baths to even get half of that stench off,” Taranis complained. “Let’s go.”

“Yah,” was all Draven said. Looking out at the swamp, he felt as though someone was watching him. The swirling fog made it hard it see anything even with Draven’s excellent eyesight.

Draven turned away from the swamp to follow Taranis back into the trees. They walked in silence for a while before Taranis commented, “I don’t think that the humans followed us.”

“Yah,” Draven said. “We should alert Father soon. If humans are around, that always means trouble.”

Taranis nodded. Picking up the pace, they jogged southwest, going around the place where they had been attacked by the humans. If they could avoid the humans, they would get back to the village sooner to alert Draven’s father of their presence.

They stopped on the top of a large hill. Down below, a village stood; smoke billowing out of the chimneys of the many houses. A high stone wall surrounded the village.

Behind the village, there was a large cliff. A castle was on top, casting a shadow over the village. The dark stone outer-walls and stain glass windows gave it an ancient feel. Draven shivered. He had always hated that castle, even though he lived in it.

“Draven, Taranis!” a voice called from down below.

They looked down and saw a woman making her way towards them. She had pale skin which was made more apparent because of her dark black hair and dark brown eyes. Her legs were short, but well-muscled as were her arms. Dressed in a long white dress, the woman’s slightly swollen belly was hidden.

“Hello Furaha,” Draven said, greeting the woman.

As she came closer, Taranis’s nose twitched. Even though she was the wife of a Hellion Clan vampire, Furaha had been born in Serwa Clan and her parents were Serwa Clan vampire. When she reached them, Furaha’s breath was coming in ragged gasps.

“Are you alright?” Taranis asked. “You do remember that you’re pregnant right?”

“Of course I remember,” Furaha snapped. She sighed and added, “I just feel like I have to exercise since I haven’t done that for a while.”

“Just be careful,” Draven said.

“I will be,” Furaha reassured them. “Oh, and Draven, your Father was looking for you.”

“Thanks Furaha,” Draven said, waving goodbye as he and Taranis made their way down the hill towards the village.

Pushing open a gate that was set into the wall surrounding the village, Taranis and Draven made their way inside. They were greeted by many other vampires as they headed through the village towards the castle.

“How do you think you’re dad is going to take the news of humans in the Vampire Lands?” Taranis asked as they passed a clothing store that sold maternity clothes.

Draven stopped and said, “Well, he’ll probably be furious. Father always is if humans come anywhere near the Vampire Lands. He’ll send Kelemen out to try and find the group that attacked us. If Kelemen does find the humans, then he will have permission to kill them.”

Taranis shuddered and whispered, “To tell you the truth, I’d rather not have that happen. I don’t like humans, but I don’t hate them. In fact, I’ve never met one.”

“What are you talking about?” a voice asked from below.

Taranis and Draven looked down. A little girl stood between them, staring up at them with large brown eyes. Flecks of gold surrounded the irises of her eyes and her thick, dark brown hair was smooth.

“We aren’t talking about anything Sanja,” Taranis said. “Go on home.”

“What are you talking about?” Sanja asked again.

“Nothing,” Taranis hissed. “Go home Sanja.”

“No, I want to know what you two are talking about,” Sanja argued.

“What we are talking about you wouldn’t understand Sanja,” Draven told her.

“Why not?” Sanja asked.

“You’ll find out when you’re older,” Taranis grumbled. He had little patience with Sanja, even though he thought that she was adorable.

Sanja pouted. “Everyone is always saying that!” she shouted. “’You’ll find out when you’re older.’ ‘I’ll tell you when you’re older.’ How am I supposed to know anything if no one will tell me until I get older?”

Draven sighed. Sanja was always arguing with someone and today he and Taranis were her choices. He hated it when that happened.

“Because that is the way it is,” Taranis yelled. “I’m sure that someone will tell you where that feather that your wear in your hair came from someday!”

Sanja’s hand flew up to the silver feather that she wore behind her right ear. It was as long as Draven’s forearm and as shiny as a new penny. The sun glinted off of it, making it look almost magical. Everyone in the Hellion Clan-except Sanja, of course-knew that it was a griffin feather.

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"It is a griffin feather," Draven explained. "You've heard about the griffins, right?"

"Yes, Mommy told me about them once. She said that they were these big bird-winged cats and that they could kill a vampire in a few seconds if they wanted to," Sanja said, stroking the feather gently.

"That would be accurate," Draven said.

"But how do you know it if a griffin feather?" Sanja quickly asked.

"Because of its size, color, and length," Taranis grumbled. "I am pretty sure that there isn't a bird in existence that it big enough to have a feather that is longer than Draven's forearm!"

"So... what were you guys talking about before?" Sanja asked.

Draven sighed. Although Sanja was very outspoken, she dodged topics and questions if she didn't want to talk about them or answer them. But what was scary about it is that she did it with the efficiency of any Senator from the Human Lands. For vampires, such as Draven, who liked straight forward answers, Sanja's dodging got old quickly.

"Sanja, stop bothering Draven and Taranis!" a female voice shouted from down the street.

Turning, they saw that a small woman heading towards them. Her short black hair made her appear taller than she was and her yellow eyes were narrow.

"Hi Marama," Sanja called. She ran to the young woman and hugged her leg. Then she looked up at the woman's face and said, "I am not bothering them. We were just talking."

"Which is something that you just accused us of doing too much," Taranis hissed behind his clenched teeth.

Sanja ignored Taranis's comment. Instead, she asked, "Is Mommy going to make dinner tonight? Or is Manu going to have to make that bad pea soup."

Marama laughed and said, "Why don't you go and ask her? She is in the garden right now."

Sanja squealed in excitement and went tearing down the street, the silver feather somehow remaining behind her ear.

Marama sighed. "I am sorry about my little sister," she apologized. "I guess that she picked you two as her sparing partners today."

"And I think she won the fight," Draven said. "She switched the topic twice on us."

Marama shook her head. "Sanja is such a handful," she commented.

"By the way, how is your mother doing?" Draven asked. "This morning I saw her and Manu out walking in the streets."

Smiling, Marama said, "Mother is doing much better today. This morning, she told Manu that she felt much stronger and that they should take a walk. She made it all the way through the village before her legs gave out."

"Just out of curiosity," Taranis cut in, "What happened to your mother exactly. I know that it happened just after your father died, but I never really found out what happened,"

A look of sorrow spread across Marama's face. Draven stepped in front of Taranis and whispered, "This might not be the time Taranis."

"No, it is alright," Marama said. "You'd find out soon enough from Jakob or someone anyway."

She took a deep breath and continued, "You both know that Father died four years ago. Well, Mother and Father were very close. As children they had been best friends. After Mother heard about Father's death, grief hit her like a wave upon a beach. It consumed her, took complete control of her life. For a whole week, she wouldn't even get out of bed."

"But one day, she complained to me about feeling sick so I took her to Liisu. Lissu examined her and said that Mother was pregnant. You could guess how surprised both of us were. After all, Father had just died and suddenly Mother was pregnant again."

"Well, Mother set her grief aside for after the baby was born. She was happy for the time that she carried the baby. But, after the baby was born, Mother descended back into her pit of despair and sorrow. That baby just happens to be Sanja. If you haven't noticed yet, whenever Mother is well enough to go out and she is around Sanja, she becomes very protective of her."

"Yah, I noticed that a few moons ago at the Moon Phase Contests. Eana watched Sanja's every move," Draven interrupted.

Marama nodded. "This is because technically, Sanja is Mother's last connection to Father from when he was alive. We found out soon after Sanja was born, that Sanja was probably conceived the day before Father died," she said sadly. "And this is why Mother is so protective of her."

"Does Sanja know any of this?" Taranis asked, a worried look spreading across his face. "'Cause I wouldn't tell her. If she understood what you were saying, which I am sure that she would, it might make her feel... I don't know... watched."

"I agree," Draven said. "It might break Sanja's spirit which we all know that she has a lot of."

Marama laughed and said, "Manu and I decided not to tell her. At least not until she is older."

"Does she ever ask about her father?" Draven asked.

"All the time," Marama said. "She wonders where he is. When she asks all I say is that he with us, but we can't see him. She doesn't understand what I mean and so, she leaves it as is."

"I miss Rangi, your father," Taranis sighed. "He was my Zennya Master."

Marama and Draven both nodded.

"Didn't Father have a very close connect with you and your brother, Draven?" Marama asked.

Draven took a deep breath. He didn't like talking about his brother, but since he couldn't avoid it, he said, "Yes, Rangi did. He was closer to my brother than he was to me, but I saw Rangi every day when he would come to the castle to talk with Father."

"Marama, come on! Mother has made roasted caribou!" Sanja shouted from down the street.

"Coming Sanja," Marama called. She turned away from them and headed towards her sister, who scampered off down a side street.

Draven didn't watch them leave. Instead, he turned his back on them and walked away, leaving Taranis standing in the street. Walking through the streets of the village was Draven's favorite past time. When they were younger, he and his brother had chased each other through the alleys, their dark passages imprinted in their minds for all time.

Turning to look up, Draven wondered, 'Where are you brother?'

He hadn't seen his older brother in 14 years. Even though Draven remembered what he looked like and how he acted, he still missed his older brother.

CHAPTER 2: A NORMAL MORNING (AS TOLD BY ME, IEN)

My alarm clock went off at six-thirty as it did every morning. I hated that alarm clock, but I kept it because it was the only way to wake me up. It was a digital clock, complete with an alarm, a radio, and CD player. Like most of what I owned, it was plain.

Rolling out of bed in a disgruntled fashion, I made my way to my closet in the dark. Thrusting the door open, I yawned loudly. I’ve never been much of a morning person, but because I am a restaurant owner who works in his restaurant, I had to get up early.

I live in a large city called Sera in a small apartment that had a kitchen that was barely big enough to fit four people into. I mean it’s tiny. And I share it with Chloe and Caesar, which makes it even more crowded.

Pulling on a random pair of jeans, I almost fell over in the dark, but I broke my fall by grabbing onto the closet door. Cursing softly, I buttoned my jeans and made my way to the door that led out of my room. Thank God that Chloe got up so early. She turned on the lights so some light came into my room through the crack under the door.

Stumbling out of my room, I yawned again. After closing the door, I took a step forward and tripped over a furry object. Falling face first onto the hardwood floor, I cursed again. Looking back, I found Caesar standing over me, his furry face pressed close to mine.

“Are you okay?” he asked in his low voice. As he spoke, he revealed two rows of sharp teeth and his pointed ears flicked back and forth.

“I’m okay Caesar,” I reassured him. “But do you have to sleep just outside my door?”

“Yep,” Caesar said. “It’s for security reasons.”

“I’m sure that if a burglar came, he would skip out on this apartment when he saw what it looked like,” I said in annoyance. Caesar was such a worry wart. Most people were surprised to find this out since he is so laid back. He is a laid back, worry wart cat.

Yes, Caesar is a cat; who just happens to know how to speak English. About three years ago, some scientists altered the genes in a female cat. This experiment allowed her to be able to speak. But Celeste, the female cat, escaped from the facility that she was held in and she had kittens with a stray tom called Amedeus. The kittens were Caesar and Chloe. But soon after her kittens were born, Celeste was captured by the scientists. They put Caesar and Chloe up for adoption, not knowing that they too could talk. I adopted them at nine months and to my surprise, they started to talk at 10 months.

“God, why do I have to have a brother whose brain is all fluff?” a voice asked. Chloe sat a few yards away, licking her white chest. She looked up at us with her intelligent green eyes and gave us a look of disgust.

“Chloe, do you have to be so mean?” I asked, sitting up.

“Yes,” Chloe remarked. “Then I can keep you two from doing stuff that is even worse that what you’re doing right now.”

“Chloe!” Caesar moaned. “You’re hurting my feelings!”

Chloe sighed heavily. She muttered,” You can see why I have to be so mean. You, my brother, are as dumb as a nail. If you had any sense, you would suck it up, like any normal cat would.”

“That is enough Chloe,” I said, trying to break up the fight that was about to occur. “I don’t need you to fighting and ripping up the carpet like you did last month.”

Chloe sniffed, got up, and walked away. I picked up Caesar and whispered, “She’s in a good mood today.”

“I know,” he said. As I carried him into the kitchen, I stroked his soft brown fur and thought about his relation with his sister. Chloe had always been the dominate sibling, being only an hour older and having the upper hand in verbal battles. Caesar was stuck as the meek sibling, only standing up for himself in fights with me.

Sighing, I set Caesar on one of the kitchen chairs and walked to the refrigerator. It was small, plain, and white; like most of the apartment. On the door, two pictures were hung by magnets. One was of Caesar’s paw prints, the other of Chloe’s. Tacky I know, but those two meant more to me than anything else. They were almost like my children in a way.

Opening the fridge, I reached for a jug of milk. Caesar moaned as he watched me drink right from the jug. He was a sucker for milk, always wanting a bowl of it when ever he saw it.

“Calm down brother,” Chloe said from where she sat on the counter. A small pillow was set up there for Chloe. Chloe thought that it was her throne and to her happiness, it was too small for Caesar to sleep on. Chloe was an undersized cat, about half the size of normal sized Caesar. Her light gray coat glimmered in the light and her completely white tail swished back and forth lazily.

“I can’t Chloe,” Caesar whimpered. I think that he was about to pounce on me and wrestle for the milk when I put it away. Caesar relaxed and jumped down off the chair. He joined his sister on the counter as I took a box of cereal out of one of the wood cabinets.

“So, any ideas for today guys?” I asked as I poured the cereal into a chipped, white bowl.

“Well, Chloe had a good idea last night,” Caesar said. He turned to her and prompted her to tell me about it. “Go on Chloe.”

Sighing, Chloe reluctantly told me about her idea. She said that we should have a day where if you bought one entrée, you could get a free desert from a select list. The desert list could include our famous ice cream sundaes, chocolate soufflé, and bread pudding.

I knew that this was a great idea. Even though I was the one who had hired our chef, who had just graduated from a cooking school, Chloe was the one who had instructed him on how to make elegant food. Chloe is a snob in many ways. She likes good food, both cat and human, she can’t stand bad fashion (especially when it's me who is wearing what she calls "Totally Terrible Fashion" or TTF), and she absolutely hates people who have no confidence. Lucky for me, she does like living in a small, simple apartment. Otherwise, I’d be in big trouble.

I basically shoved a whole bowl of cereal into my mouth and put my bowl in the sink as I chewed. Chloe made a gagging sound and I rolled my eyes.

“You two had better be ready in five minutes,” I said through a mouthful of cereal. “I don’t want to be late like we were yesterday.”

“We were late because a certain someone had to use the litter box,” Chloe sighed. She turned to Caesar and added,” You should probably use the litter box now so we don’t have any repeats of yesterday.”

“I know, I know,” Caesar said exasperatedly. Jumping down from the counter, he trotted along to the storage room that was near the back of the apartment. As he slunk into the dark room, I walked into the bathroom which was just down the hall. Turning on the light, I saw that my bottle of Minty-Fresh toothpaste was open, the cap halfway across the room. The toothpaste itself was smeared all over the counter and in the sink.

‘Chloe!’ I thought. Even though Chloe acts all high and mighty, she still acts like a cat. Her favorite toy is… toothpaste.

Sighing, I took a large piece of toilet paper and started to wipe off the counter. It didn’t take that long and when I was done, all I could do to clean my mouth was to use some Listerine mouthwash. God, I hate that stuff! The only reason I have it is for when Chloe gets into my toothpaste! A restaurant owner who works as the receptionist has to have a clean mouth. It’s a requirement for the job!

After spitting out the disgusting liquid that not even a dog would drink, I looked at myself in the mirror that hung above the sink. I had tan skin that was almost a bronzy color and a wide forehead. High cheekbones defined my face in a somewhat elegant style. Light brown hair cascaded down the back of my in straight, but almost spiky pieces. My bright blue eyes stared back at me accusingly. They seemed to say, What in the world are you looking for? Pockmarks? You’ve stared at yourself for long enough!

Exiting the bathroom, I found Chloe and Caesar waiting by the front door. As I walked towards them, both of them stood. The silver bell on Chloe’s collar made a short jingle before becoming silent. I pulled on a pair of white sneakers and upon opening the front door, I found the daily paper on the door mat. I picked it up and closed the front door behind me.

I turned to the front page of the daily news. The headline seemed to scream in happiness. It said: THE HELLSON FAMILY HAS RETURNED! I sighed. God, I must be the only person in all of Devasoara who isn’t obsessed with the Hellson family! I thought.

Suddenly, I felt a sharp pain in my lower leg. I held back a shout when I realized that it was just Chloe. She glared up at me in annoyance and she said, “Hurry up Ien. We don’t have all day.”

I didn’t say anything. As we walked down the narrow stairs that led up to my apartment, Chloe jumped up on my shoulders and lay down. Somehow, she always found that comfortable and what’s better it that she never used her claws to hold on. She just never fell off my shoulders or lost her balance.

Heading out onto a crowded street, I took a deep breath. The smells of the city were so powerful that I almost gagged. That is the one bad thing about living in the city; no clean air. It’s all polluted with the smell of gasoline from cars and smoke from the nearby factories.

As we walked several people waved and shouted words of greeting. This is the Meşter District of Sera, where everyone knew everyone. Most of the people were artists; painters, singers, and photographers. That is why it is called the Meşter District. The word meşter in Romanian means artist.

Soon we came to a restaurant; my restaurant. Above the stain glass door, there was a sign that read Azel’s. I took a key out of my pocket and inserted it into the keyhole in the doorknob. Turning the key, I heard the lock click and I opened the door. Before closing it, I made sure that Caesar had managed to get inside. Once, I’d accidentally locked him out and he’d waited there for three hours until one of my customers had told me that there was a stray cat sitting at the door.

Chloe jumped off of my shoulders and onto the front desk that was set up at the front of the restaurant. She sat down next to a closed book that was used to take reservations. Caesar skirted around the desk. He crouched low and with a big leap, made it up five feet to a ledge of a high window. Turning around, he lay down and watched me take down the chairs that were put up on the tables.

My restaurant, which is called Azel’s after my late adopted father, is a two-storey building that used to be a hotel. After the hotel went out of business some fifty years ago, my adopted father bought it, fixed it up, and turned it into a restaurant.

Here is why I refer to Azel as my adopted father. I am adopted. Wow, that was hard to figure out! I call Azel my adoptive father because I remember my birth father. And I remember my birth mother, too. And my brother. Anyway, back to my normal morning.

Eventually, I made my way to the staff room, which is a small room that is just off the kitchen. When they aren’t working, the staff come into this room and talk to each other, play cards, that sort of thing. One wall is just lockers; large lockers that my staff keep their street clothes in. When they get to my restaurant, they change out of their street clothes and into their uniform. I do as well.

Opening up the last locker on the left, I pulled out black pants, a white collared shirt, a black suit, and black dress shoes. (Chloe picked them out for me. She also made me buy one of those sticky rolly things that get cat hair off of your clothes.)

I quickly dressed in my uniform and put my jeans, T-shirt, and sneakers in the locker. Pulling on the collar, I sighed loudly. Suddenly, the door opened and in came one of my staff members. It was Eleni Brown. She is a short, almost stocky woman whose passion in life is to sing. But no one in the music industry seems to like her very unique voice. It has a clear ring to it. I personally love listening to Eleni sing and sometimes I let her perform for our customers in the evenings. The people love her and many come back because they want to have our great food while listening to Eleni sing.

“Hi Eleni,” I said.

“Hello boss,” Eleni said smiling. All of the waiters called me boss for some odd reason. I think it has to do with a joke that is being played on me behind my back, but I don’t know.

“How’s your morning been so far?” I asked as I turned to leave the staff room.

“Pretty good Boss,” Eleni replied. The she turned to me and said, “There’s a man waiting outside who wants to see you. He says his name is Cahal something.”

I groaned loudly as I left the staff room. Heading to one of the large windows that are at the front of the restaurant, I looked out. Sure enough, a tall man was standing on the sidewalk. He had short black hair that was chopped off just above his ears and long legs. His powerful hands were clenched into fists

CHAPTER THREE: A SILVERY NIGHT
FOLLOWS SANJA IDIRIAN
BY DRAVEN HELLSON

Sanja was sitting on her small bed in her tiny room, bored. It apparently used to be a storage room, but after Sanja was born it was converted into a bedroom.

Flipping over on her back, Sanja sighed and looked up at the white ceiling. Smiling to herself, she thought about her conversation with Draven and Taranis. Taranis's face had been bright red with anger when she had changed the subject on them.

Laughing, Sanja jumped off of her bed and opened the small window that was next to her bed. Older windows were easy to open and Sanja, a master of opening things, found that they were a piece of cake.

Quickly, she ran to the door to her room and opened it, making sure that no one else was awake. Smiling, she closed it quietly and made her way back to the window. She swung her legs outside and stared down at the ground. It was a nine foot drop from her window to the ground.

Sanja pushed herself off of the window sill. As she fell, the wind rushed past her stinging her eyes. But it didn't matter; she landed on her feet, unharmed nine feet below. Having done many of these late-night excursions before, Sanja was great at landing on her feet.

Running though the village, she made her way from shadow to shadow; making sure that any late-night guards wouldn't find her and send her back home. Reaching the front gate that led out of the village, Sanja saw someone standing on the other side, looking into the quiet, peaceful village.

Hiding behind a house, Sanja peeked around the corner to look at whoever was on the other side of the gate. She couldn't make out the persons' face, but from the shape of his or her's body, she guessed that it was a tall, lean man.

The man turned away from the gate and headed up the hill, walking at a quick, but steady pace. Sanja, curious, decided that she had to figure out who he was. If he was a rouge, then the whole Clan might be in danger. And if that was true, then Sanja wanted to be the one to discover him.

Slipping between the iron bars of the gate, she hid behind a tree and waited for the man to reach the top of the hill. The three-quarter moon broke through the clouds at that exact same moment, washing the hill in a bright, silvery glow.

Being able to see the man better, Sanja gasped. The man was taller than she had first thought, being close to six foot two. The sleeves of his loose, black shirt were torn at the shoulders, revealing the lean, but tones muscles of his arms.

'Who is he?' Sanja wondered.

Then the man disappeared into Hell Forest. 'I have to follow him!' Sanja thought. 'He must be a rouge!'

Quietly, Sanja ran up the hill, keeping her distance. It was easy to follow him through the trees. Sanja wasn't an expert tracker, but this man didn't even try to hide himself. He just kept on walking, ignoring his surroundings.

After a while, Sanja noticed that the forest had started to thin out. There were fewer trees and the ground had changed from soft grass to hard stone. Sanja realized that they were approaching the Cliffs of Sand.

The Cliffs of Sand were a series of cliffs that stretched from the Urear Clan Border in the south to the Lear Clan Border a couple miles north. Below the cliffs was the Sea of Talicon. The Sea of Talicon was famous for its waves that could get up to ten feet high and its rough undercurrent.

Sanja watched the man walk up to the edge of a cliff. Now that he was out in the open, Sanja could see his light brown hair. It wasn’t long, having been cut off just below his ears, but it was longer than Sanja had first thought.

Suddenly, the man whirled around and asked, “Why did you follow me?”

Sanja took a step back in fright. She was afraid that the man was angry with her. Then she saw his face and saw only clam curiosity.

“Well… um…” she stammered.

“It’s alright,” the man said. “I won’t tell anyone that you’re out of the village this late.”

Sanja looked closer and recoiled in fright. The man’s eyes were silver, like the moon on a clear night. The pupils were silted, just like a vampire’s.

“Who… are you?” Sanja asked, curiosity welling up insider her once more.

“Who are you?” the man asked, his silver eyes never once looking away from Sanja.

“My name is Sanja Idirian,” Sanja said, hoping that her voice sounded more courageous than she felt.

“Ah, you’re Rangi’s child then,” the man murmured.

“You knew my father?” Sanja asked.

The man nodded. “I did, but it was a long time ago,” he whispered. “I am sorry, about his death I mean.”

“It’s okay,” Sanja said reassuringly. “I never knew him so why should I feel sad?”

“You make a point there,” the man murmured.

“What is your name? I don’t think you ever told me what it was,” Sanja said.

The man hesitated and then whispered, “My name is Ien.”

Then something strange happened. The man’s body seemed to dissolve into a cloud of feathers. As the feathers floated down towards the ground, a shadow took shape at the center of the cloud. The shadow grew four legs and a long tail. Its body was just like a giant cat's, complete with the triangular shaped head and big paws.

Sanja gasped. Before her stood a griffin; one with silver feathers. Nodding to Sanja, it leapt up into the sky and beat its silver wings. The moonlight bounced off the feathers, creating a halo around the creature as it flew away towards the Human Lands.

CHAPTER 4: AN ENCOUNTER THAT I HOPED WOULD NEVER HAPPEN (AS TOLD BY ME, IEN)

Stepping outside, I came face to face with Cahal McCarthy. He was the son of a rich business man named Brian McCarthy. Cahal had been a bully when we were in school and he hated me more than anyone else in the world. Even more than Kyle, my best friend, who’d made a fool out of him in Fifth Year.

“Hello Cahal,” I said slowly. “What do you want? I have a restaurant to open.”

Cahal’s fists clenched even more at my coolness and he shouted, “Why are you spending so much time with Petar?”

“Petar?” I asked. “What does he have to do with this?”

“I’ve heard him talking with my father. All they talk about anymore is you. And I can’t understand it,” Cahal said in a softer voice.

His brown eyes narrowed as he stared at me. And to tell you the truth, I don’t blame him. He’s hated me for so long and now all his father does is talk about me. Cahal is an only child; he isn’t used to his father talking about someone else’s kid more than he did his own son.

“I don’t know,” I lied. Even though I had a pretty good idea of why they were talking about me, I wasn’t about to admit that to the man who was number one of my list of people who hate me.

“Fine, I’ll take you’re word for it,” Cahal hissed. He turned on his heel and headed down the street, his back as straight as a post.

When I was back inside the restaurant, I took a deep breath. I tried to steady myself, but it didn’t word. Trying to force yourself to stop shaking is pretty hard and I hate doing it.

Chloe came over and asked, “What is wrong?”

“I just talked to Cahal,” I muttered. Keeping my voice steady I added, “And he wanted to know why I am spending so much time with Petar.”

Chloe stiffened. “How does he know?” she asked in surprise. “Did you follow you?”

I shook my head. “No, he didn’t follow us Chloe. He’s just noticed that his father and Petar have been talking about me a lot.”

“Phew,” Chloe said. “You had me worried there for a minute.”

“Sorry Chloe,” I apologized. Sighing, I said, “God, I hate keeping these secrets.”

“So do I, but we have to,” Chloe reminded me. “Even Caesar knows what will happen if we tell someone.”

I looked out the front window of the restaurant and sighed again. Caesar looked down at me in confusion. Chloe lowered her head and crept away from me to go talk to Eleni about the new special for the week.