The rush of the Matron's Legacy Fountain fills the air, its water cascading into the small pool below. Mist from the fountain cools my back as I peer up into the black, star-filled night. It's a beautiful summer evening… just not for me.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I lean my chin towards the stars to clear my head of the mind-shattering pain that overtakes every single thought. It shakes my jaw, and I inhale sharply. I pinch my brows together and slam my eyes shut to try to soften my anguish. Gritting my teeth together, I wait for it to pass.
Who knew a vampire could get headaches? A laugh escapes me at the thought, realizing that no other vampire in existence experiences headaches or any kind of sickness, for that matter.
Another wave of pain slams into me, wiping the smile off my face. Colors flash underneath my closed eyelids. Red spreads across the darkness and fills my vision, just as blood would splash across a black wall. Pounding spreads across my forehead and down my jaw again as I clutch onto the fountain's edge for dear life. Another wave slams against me, and I feel the pain stretch down my spine.
They always stop. They always stop.
I repeat the mantra over and over as the pain washes over me, crashing into every vessel. Each wave of agony hits me one by one, and I'm on the brink of whimpering from the torment. I focus on my breathing, pushing through the relentless suffering.
A few years ago, these headaches began, coming and going at their whim. I'm left with nothing to do but breathe deeply, yearning to sink my teeth into another neck.
"Hey!" A voice calls out from a distance. I smell her before I see her as I crack open one eye to find my best friend Arabella approaching. Her long blonde hair sways as she crosses Nexus Crest University's courtyard. Our shared blood wafts around her with each step. It’s a type of knowing, the scent of peace, a familiarity.
As I wait for Arabella to approach, I practice my breathing for two rounds. Inhale for seven seconds, hold for four, and exhale for eight. Luckily, the pain begins to subside, and I can open both eyes revealing the beauty of our home.
From my usual spot by the fountain, I have a prime view of the university's core. The surrounding buildings of the courtyard are almost all within sight. To my left stands the massive, windowed Library of Saint Lazarus. To the right, Sinai's buildings and several archways frame the scene. Directly in front of me, the brilliantly stained glass of Saint Januarius Cathedral, and behind me, is the beautiful fountains cove that's connected to Eden Halls. It's the perfect vantage point to capture the essence of the school.
Veins of stone walkways connect every building, and with the wandering student body of both nocturnal and bloodborne students, the school is a living and breathing organism. The most lovely of them, Arabella, reaches me and plops herself next to me on the fountain's poolside edge. She bats her brown eyes at me, but her brows pinch when she realizes I'm in pain. "Headache again?"
"Yeah, I guess so. Not too bad this time." My smile doesn't reach my eyes.
Arabella stares at me with worry; she always knows when I'm lying. It's rather annoying in cases like this. Avoiding her eyes earns me a glare. So instead, I awkwardly clear my throat to break the silence of her worry.
Looking back up at her, I see the night's lights gleaming off her loosely curled hair. Shimmers from the fountain's pool glow on her, making her absolutely stunning. It's almost sickening to watch as her small chin and plump lips quirk into a quick smile; vampirism looks good on her.
She lets out a long, defeated breath and states, "Beautiful evening to go to Professor Ezekiel's class," then giggles and winks. "Come on, let's get going; we're going to be late."
"Remind me again why we have to take this class?" I say, rubbing my forehead, the headache now completely gone.
"Shouldn't you be reminding me?" Arabella shoulder checks me gently.
"Right. Right. Right. Prerequisite. Vampire 101 or whatever it's called. Love university rules." I take a quick look at my watch. "Shit. Yeah, let's get going."
I grab hold of my bag and set off towards Sinai Auditorium arm-in-arm with Arabella. Glancing back at the fountain and my family's idol, I wink at the stone hooded female figure, silently thanking her for her usual healing touch on my headaches.
We stroll towards the building in silence, listening only to the wind flowing through the architecture and the murmur of flowing students. With stars overhead, we walk silently under the many terracotta arches with creeping vines, entering through a large open wooden doorway. The Italian architecture that decorates the building outside continues into the open hall. In the middle of the grand building is a dome with a large open hole, letting in light during the day and the stars at night. Now, only the moon's light casts over the intricate mosaic stretching across the floor, with dimly lit lanterns illuminating the space. With each loud click-clack from our uniform's shoes, Arabella and I make our way to my last class of the day and her first class of the night.
As the door creaks its way open and shut, everyone turns and looks our way; even Professor Ezekiel pauses his lesson. Indeed, we were in fact late. We ignore the stares, smiles, and whispers as we uncomfortably shift our way to sit down in our usual seats at the very back of the auditorium.
"As I was saying," the professor glares at us and then returns to his lesson, "the nine families dispersed to different countries, recognizing the importance of spreading their strength and the growth of the vampire kind. This is when our Elders created the terms Nocturnal and Bloodborne: nocturnal meaning a vampire made by blood, and bloodborne meaning one born with vampirism through the Elders' lineage. Upon reaching the age of 200, each family established its presence in which residing country? Who can tell me which families went where?"
I look around the room, no one raises their hand. I know the answer; my father has taught me a great deal about our families and our kind's history. Throughout my life, he has shared many historical documents with me, creating my love for learning. Not everyone here is fortunate enough to be born a vampire or raised in a knowledgeable family like mine. Then again, no one needs to know that, and I'm trying to keep a low profile.
Instead, Arabella raises her hand to answer and blows my cover. "The Verrone and Vadala families left their mark in Italy, with the Vadala family in the north where our University is located and the Verrone family in the south. The Solmark family put down roots in Switzerland, while Kurosawa resides in Japan. The Malec family resides in Poland, and the Weber family was in Germany until their Elders perished in the Great Hunt. Naha lies in the Americas, the Khalfi are scattered across Africa, and the Muhjah have remained strong in Egypt. Our ancestral family names are known for starting the vampire lineage and shaping our society.” She smiles that perfect, wide, toothy grin at the professor. Teacher's pet.
"Excellent, Arabella—very well put and knowledgeable. Next time," the professor pauses to glare and smirk at us, "please ensure that you and Gabrielle arrive at class on time." He glances back at the entire class, adding with a clear distinctive tone, "You're all just beginning your freshman year at NCU, and we're only in the first week of each of your journeys. Be on time, be present, and be successful."
"Yes, Professor Ezekiel," Arabella sweetly calls out from amidst the quiet auditorium, wearing a playful smile on her face. She bites her lip, her focus never leaving him. Then, she leans closer to my ear to reiterate, once again, how hot Professor Ezekiel is. I roll my eyes.
"Now, who can tell me the three laws of our society?" He glances around the room for participation.
A vampire at the front of the class raises his hand and answers, "Our first and most crucial law is that consuming another vampire's blood is fatal, poisoning both drinker and source. The second law is that vampirism must remain a secret. Our final law states that the rules and structure of the vampire race are created by the Elders, and thus are law."
Professor Ezekiel clasps his hands tightly together, replying, “Yes, very good. Can someone go into more detail about these laws?”
Another student from the far right calls out, "Our foremost and non-negotiable law, the cornerstone of our survival, dictates that the consumption of another vampire's blood is an act with deadly consequences. This law stands as a deterrent, a reminder that even within our kind, there are limits that must never be crossed." I watch the room holding my breath.
"Spoken like a true politician's daughter. Thank you, Odessa Verrone." The professor dips his head toward her, prompting a few heads to turn as he reveals this new piece of information. Her eyes glint red—a strong tell of her nocturnal creation—as she returns his bow with respectful acknowledgment.
Odessa and her father, Fiorenzo Verrone, are the only nocturnals created by the Verrone Elders. Her father has gained significant influence within the southern Italian government and is currently campaigning for the position of Presidente della Regione Siciliana. As a direct descendant of the family's two founders, he is both highly respected and well-loved. By the looks of it, she'll be taking after her father quit effortlessly.
Interrupting my tinge of jealousy, Professor Ezekiel asks, "Can someone else give a detailed explanation of our laws?" He scans the class for a response.
However, before anyone can answer, a voice from the left interrupts, "We all already know this!” Drawing attention from everyone in the room, we all spot a young male vampire lounging back in his auditorium seat, his arms draped over the adjoining chairs, adding with a chuckle, "Teach us something new!"
His outburst causes some students to giggle, while others shift uncomfortably in their seats. Arabella and I seem to hold our positions, unsure of the repercussions of such a disrespectful act.
However, surprisingly, the professor joins in with the laughter. "Yes, yes, there's always one," the professor chuckles softly. "Well, do tell me then, why are you all here?" He surveys the room, pausing expectantly. "Anyone?"
It's silent, yet somehow the professor is disappointed by this. He furrows his brows and starts to walk up and down the aisles. "Why are you all here? Weren't you all sent here by your families to learn this information, to learn who we are as a people? To discover the ins and outs of what make up our vampiric society; to learn the ancestral symbols, the family stature and governmental laws, and the biology of what makes us unique in this humanly dull world?"
He lets his words sink in before continuing. "Or that every year our kind makes the same mistakes, causing heartache, chaos, and the terrifying reminder that the Elders are infinitely powerful judicators?" He raises his voice, "Have you all not yet learned?! Our ever frozen forms unmarred by the test of time and yet our thoughts stay the same, never changing, never growing to what we truly could be within our predatorial status?!"
The professor pauses, catching everyone's eyes, searing his words into each and everyone of his students.
Dragging his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair, calming himself, he changes his tone, the true teacher in him stating, "We didn't just wake up one day with this social order. Some of your family members sacrificed their lives to create the world we live in now. Your… our ancestors, established this university so that every vampire could learn from past mistakes, and thrive. To become something greater. To understand our history and move towards a better future."
The professor takes a deep breath in and walks closer to the vampire who called out, a calm rage within his eyes. "Clearly from your attitude and littered jewelry strapped across your wrists and fingers, I'll take a guess that you're a bloodborne from the Verrone family?"
Professor Ezekiel looms over him, both his hands clutching the seat in front of the vampire. "Tell me, what have you done to learn about our world? What have you done for the life that you have been living or will live for the rest of your eternity?"
All attention is on them, every head and pair of eyes fixated. The professor waits but the vampire boy stays silent, a sneer written on his dumbfounded face.
"Holy shit." Arabella whispers.
Still gazing into the obnoxious vampire's eyes, he states, "Make no mistake, every year here at this college, some young vampire makes one of these grave errors and they pay a very high price for it. Students and status do not escape Sovereign law."
Professor Ezekiel clears his throat and straightens to fix his tie. He moves toward the front of the auditorium to take his place. "Now, can someone tell me a more descriptive explanation for another rule?"
Silence spreads across the auditorium.
I don't think anyone knows what to do. Hell, I don't even know what to do. So instead, I raise my hand and answer his question like a fucking idiot. "The second law, equally crucial in preserving our existence, mandates that the secret of vampirism must be guarded with utmost care. This secrecy is not merely a tradition but is imperative to ensure that our presence remains hidden from humanity. However, This law is flexible when considering the feeder families and also transitioning humans.
"The final law of authority dictates that the Elders craft the laws and structure governing the vampire race, making their decrees law. Their centuries of wisdom guide our society, and their decisions, reflecting a deep understanding of our existence, are beyond question.
"Upholding these laws ensures our survival and protects the sanctity of our immortal existence. Violating them carries severe repercussions, meant not only to punish but to maintain the delicate balance that sustains our kind through the ages. Adherence to these laws is more than survival; it is a commitment to our vampiric legacy."
My fathers voice rings through my ears, no doubt his teachings support the speech I just gave to the class. Everyone is looking at me. I should've just kept my mouth shut.
"Thank you, Gabrielle. Way to make a comeback. I'll be sure to tell the Dean—your father—of your in-depth knowledge and tardiness next time I see him." He accentuates, and now everyone in the room knows that I'm the Dean's daughter.
Great. I flash the professor a forced, closed-lip smile.
Professor Ezekiel spins on his one foot and heads to turn on the presentation, turns off the lights, and begins teaching the class the difference between born vampires, bloodbornes, and made vampires, nocturnals.
Arabella leans into me. "I think he has to be the hottest man I have ever seen in my life," she quietly states to me.
"Do you need a towel to wipe up the drool pooled on your desk?" I quietly retort.
Professor Ezekiel's class, Introduction to Traditions and Practices 101, is the only prerequisite required by all students. It serves as the foundation for understanding our society and is clearly the only class that most hate because it either feels like a wet sock to the face, filled with new and terrifying information, or something that has been drilled into them by their parents and families for years. Nonetheless, I start to type notes on my laptop.
As I write, a girl in front of us whispers to her friend, "I heard his daughter died because she sucked herself dry. Poor thing died alone and dried up. Daddy found her in her dorm the next day because she never showed up for tea time. It's probably why he chose to teach this class."
The girl sitting next to her adds, "Well, I heard that her boyfriend was human and she tried to turn him, only to find out that he ran away terrified, trying to tell other people. They say he went screaming out of her dorm room. The Sovereign found out and executed her and the boy."
The professor pauses for a brief moment, clearly hearing the defamation with his vampire ears, but he continues with his presentation about the nine families.
The girl banters, "Oh my God, I didn't know there was a boyfriend involved. No way, there would have been some kind of remark made to the students. It makes way more sense that she tried to off herself. People told me that she even wrote a letter about hating herself and wanting to end it all. She told her dad that she missed her old life as a human. She couldn't take the pressure."
"The pressure of what?" the girl giggles back. "Who would—"
"Could you two slutfucks shut the fuck up?" Arabella doesn't move from her notebook as she casually states this to the girls in front of us, she just continues to write notes off the presentation.
I wait for a rebuttal but one never comes. The two girls scoff but surprisingly they actually 'shut the fuck up'.
With my focus broken, I pause from my notes and start to look around the auditorium.
Down in the front are a few nocturnals; they try a bit harder than the rest. I notice this when they seem to turn their attention toward the many interruptions in class, their eyes glinting a bright red. As a nocturnal, enrolling in this university signifies either a familial connection or being a found orphaned vampire. The goal is to ensure they receive a proper education in vampire history, attain an education, and navigate their newly embraced world. This process also protects our society. Depending on who you are, who you know, and who created you, your position within the class system is determined.
I turn towards Arabella, noting the same red glint in her eyes as she looks back and forth between the presentation and her notebook.
We grew up together—she, a human, and I, a bloodborne vampire. When we met, she had no family, orphaned at age four when her parents died in a car accident. There was never any discussion of her knowing about vampires or being turned. However, in her later human years, she became very ill. By 17, the illness had ravaged her body. I remember her frail, gangly form at the end; the once-healthy, vibrant girl had become a sHell, barely able to stand.
Arabella was turned shortly after her 18th birthday, as required by vampire law. My father was the one who turned her. She's like a sister to me and is treated as such. In fact, she is respected almost as much as a bloodborne daughter, thanks to my father's influence and status in our society. Though, unfortunately, nocturnal respect often depends on the company.
I pull my gaze from her and the memory of her old life to scan the scattered and clearly distinguishable groupings of the nine families. Currently, Arabella and I are the only ones from our immediate family attending NCU. The professor pointed out the other Italian family, the Verrones. There are five vampires within that group, and the only one I know to be bloodborne is Akio—the asshole who called out and clearly loves to hear his own voice.
I check back in with the presentation and notice the professor is discussing how the laws came about; quickly, I note that the Kurosawa family created the second law due to a human group that hunted and killed a few of their family members during the Renaissance.
Just when I look back up, I spot one of my childhood friends sitting in the middle of the room. His light hair and tall stature make him instantly recognizable as a descendant of the Solmark family, Axel Solmark. He sits alone, which is understandable due to his family being so small.
The Solmarks and Vadalas have always been close with one another. Due to the alliance between our families, we attended the same events and became very close, quickly forming a close friendship and sticking together within the same social circles. For years, it had been just him, Arabella, and me, while vampire and human friendships and relationships came and went. Hanging out as young vampires often led to trouble, and we certainly got into our share of it.
As if sensing my gaze and the memories of our past, Axel turns in his seat, faces me, and we both awkwardly smile. Axel's smile fades quickly as he turns back to the front, shifting in his seat. He clears his throat and adjusts his notebook. I fidget with my keypad and open up a new tab, clicking unnecessarily.
He's attractive—tall and lanky, with short platinum blonde hair that falls over his forehead, blue eyes, and pale skin. He also seems to have added a bit of ink to his arm since the last time I saw him.
We had an intense falling out after graduating high school, and truthfully, I've missed him. How did I not notice him before in this class? Have I really been that clueless not to see him? He probably thinks I'm even more of a bitch now. Should I talk to him afterward? How should I approach him, or should I even try? He did smile, so I should at least make an attempt to talk to him; it would be rude not to. But after what happened—what we did—would it be inappropriate to even try?
Internally rolling my eyes, I turn my attention once more to the last bit of notes from the presentation.
Unluckily the professor turns the projector off and the lights back on as he announces, "On Monday, I expect a three-page research paper on one of the nine families and how their idol is connected to them. One that is not your own. You will need three academic resources from the library. I will accept nothing less. You are all dismissed and hopefully you all come back to class on time, educated and with a far more respectful outlook.” Asshole.
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