Rain pounded on the tin roof causing a near deafening roar. As I sat in my favorite wingback chair in front of the glowing fireplace I cracked open a preferred book. The book was leather bound; hand written and authored by yours truly but I had no memory of ever writing the book. It was a journal of sorts. A friend of mine told me that in my mortal years I had been quite the scholar. This particular volume was about my wedding and first-born child, neither of which I could recollect. My becoming a vampire had stripped me of all of my memories of my human life. As I replayed the scenes of my wedding in my mind's eye as scribed by my hand I heard the monsoon less and less until it was wedding bells tolling and not the dull roar or even the faint crackle of the fire. The fire cast a warming glow about the small library, my favorite and most quiet room in the small chateau I owned. The small oil lamp on the end table next to my chair gave me all the light I needed to read the delicate scrawl on the pages. As a vampire I had excellent night and hunter vision but I was still limited to requiring a little bit of light for reading and the small gold wire framed glasses on my face allowed me to read the handwriting on the pages.

As I mentioned before the library was small with the walls lined with books, a bust of my mortal wife, Chalarty, sat on a pedestal next to the stained glass balcony doors that led to the wrap around porch of the second floor of the house. Lightning flashed illuminating the entire room for a split second chasing shadows away. Twin wingback chairs sat in front of the fireplace below a large portrait of Chalarty above the mantle. Chalarty had been blonde, delicate as a rose and as frail as a porceline doll. She had soft creamy skin and large blue eyes that were nothing more than deep pools one could lose their soul in. She had the tiniest hands and feet, pouty red lips, a thin waist, hips and perfectly rounded breasts. In the portrait her long blonde curls were partially pulled up on her head and under a wide brimmed hat with a large ostrich feather curled around the brim. Her dress was tight waisted, off the shoulder with long sleeves. A small smooth blue stone on a velvet choker hung around her neck. It had been an unlabeled wedding gift and according to my journal once Chalarty put it on she never took it off. All her clothing from that day forward had been made of material to match the stone. In reading my journals I come to know that the stone is around Chalarty's neck even in death.

At first I thought my hearing was playing tricks on me. As a vampire I had heightened senses and not just vision. The tiny rapping came on the balcony door a second time. It had cut through my 'reading deafness' and I lowered my book to gaze at the balcony doors. A tall figure stood slightly slumped in front of the doors. I could see no more through the stained glass. Not sure who was calling at this late and dreary hour I placed the book on the table next to the lamp and my glasses on top of the book. In the many years passing since I was resurrected into my vampire unlife I had slowly, one by one, released my servants from their duties. Only one family remained in my service and that was the stable hand, his wife, and their son. I only needed the stable hand to care for my horses as the Seraphim Friesians were the best horses in the land. Many a knight or king had come to my home to purchase my horses. They were strong enough carry a fully armored knight and as equally fast and agile to serve as a royal mount. Their amazing manes and sleek black fur made even a commoner look like they were of noble birth. The stable hand's wife, often at my refusal came into the mansion everyday to dust and tidy the place. She washed my clothes and their son often cleaned and polished my armor. They did these without my asking or without payment. Perhaps they did these things because they lived on my land without paying taxes to the king, had their own house and garden. The family ran a few sheep and milks cows in one of my pastures. I had no need of all the fields that surrounded the chateau and I let the family do with them as they pleased.

It was this lack of servants such as a regular maid or butler that I had to answer my own door. I rose from the chair and strode across the room grateful I had not undressed myself since dawn would be approaching in an hour or so. Therefore I was still decent enough to greet guests even this poor wretch who had visited me at such a late hour on this rainy eve. I was dressed in a simple loose white shirt tucked into brown pants, and stiff knee high black leather boots. I wore no jewelry of any sort except a pocket watch with Chalarty's picture in it. As I opened the door my nose was nearly assaulted with the scent of the rain. I was unable to tell if the figure was human, vampire or D'Arlo clan. I could make out in the darkness of the hood that it was a tall man, but until the hood fell and lightning streaked across the horizon that the man before me was my friend, cousin and vampire father, none other than Marcus Faust. Faust had striking features of milk pale vampire skin, long stark white hair swept back from his brow to allow all to see the vampire pointed ears. His hair was pulled back into a loose ponytail held with black ribbon. His eyes were a shade purpler than the gray full moon. The eyes hung under bushy gray brows. The jaw was strong and not quite square, the lips were pale, nearly ash gray. Under his lips were two pairs of canine teeth on both upper and lower jaws. These teeth made Faust's face slightly thinner showing the high cheekbones.

"Faust!" I exclaimed. I opened my mouth to invite him in. This was quite an unexpected visit and extremely unlike the arrogant Faust I knew who used a traveling spell to go everywhere. He was not the type of person who knocked on doors but just popped out of thin air interrupting whatever you were doing. Faust's eyes didn't seem to see me as he just slumped forward into my arms. I noticed for the first time a crossbow bolt protruding from his back. I pulled Faust into the room and swept the pitch black darkness outside for the owner of the crossbow that shot the bolt. Even with my excellent night vision I required at least a little light to see and it wasn't until lightning flashed again I clearly saw fifty armored knights, some on Seraphim Friesians. They waited on the hill overlooking the chateau. All of them had ankhs emblazened on their armored chests. It was the sign of the vampire hunters of House Faust. They were the mortal decendants of Marcus Faust who turned against their father and all vampires. A string curses left my mouth as I saw torches light up and then about thirty archers light their arrows on the torches. Luck was against me as I saw that the rain was not putting out the flamed arrows or torches. I ducked as I saw the flaming arrows released from the bows and sailed across the stormed sky to pelt my house. It wasn't hard figure out which room to target, even on the hill they could see the light from my fireplace and lamp. Arrows crashed through the windows and the glass doors to strike my interior walls and beloved books. It was at that moment I was only happy that I had read every book in the library at least once. The happiness mixed with anger that House Faust would attack this way, it was cowardly of them.

"Forgive me, Faust," I said before placing me knee into his back and yanking the bolt from it. "I've no time for finesse." I had to get him revived and out of the chateau before the next volley of arrows arrived. I examined the bolt to see it was not silver tipped, but had a common iron tip. The strong smell of tainted vampire blood rose from the arrow to my nose but even the smell of blood was faint compared to the strong scent of rain and my burning library. The unfamiliar scent of something else was also mixed in. I flung the oddly unconscious Faust over my shoulder and dashed from the library down the east hall to my wine cellar. Removing a particular bottle of wine from a rack caused the rock wall slide away and reveal a passage into darkness. As I stepped into the tunnel the wall closed behind me. I continued onward under the chateau to pull a chain that allowed the wall to open in front of me. I pulled hard enough on the chain to break it, not allowing anyone who followed me to exit the passage.

I stepped from the passage into a dark damp crypt. A few carved sarcophaguses were laid flat while others lined the room on their ends. The doorway I exited the passage through was disguised as one of the sarcophaguses. The stone cover slid back into place looking like any of the other tombs on the walls. It was the Seraphim Family crypt and one of the coffins was mine when I had died my mortal death, one belonged to Chalarty, my son Leon was entombed here as well as his daughter, Marjory, my parents and a few others of the Seraphim family. Each stone lid was carved with a likeness of the one entombed inside. An altar was on the opposite wall of the secret passage with two statues of angels on either side. At my will all the candles and torches lining the tomb burst into light, casting a yellow glow over the underground crypt. To the right of the altar were a set of stairs that up to the above ground crypt and the door that could only be opened by vampire strength. I laid Faust on the altar, it was just a tad longer than his six foot six. He was still unconscious and I couldn't figure out why. Faust was the strongest vampire I knew, even stronger than some of the ancients. A little crossbow bolt should not have incapacitated him so. The moment I pulled it from his back he should have regained consciousness.

I stood looking down at my maker who looked peaceful and less menacing, almost beautiful. Don't get me wrong, Faust was a handsome specimen for a man or vampire, but his lying unconscious and helpless added a certain degree of awe as I looked at him. This was not the Faust I knew over the centuries; this weakness was not him. Faust was invincible, and just as impermeable. He was oddly commonly dressed in black leather boots; black pants and a loose wool shirt tucked into the pants with a blue sash tied about the waist. He lacked any armor and there I suddenly realized without his sword, the Phoenix. I turned from the altar to sit down and lean against its stone base. The only thing I could do was wait for him to heal himself and awake. It was perhaps only moments from my sitting down before a purple glow began in front of me. The light formed the shape of a man and then solidified until the Faust I was familiar with stood before me.

The second Faust was dressed in heavy silver plated boots worn over tight black leather breeches that showed the awesome muscles in his thighs and silver shin guards with plates protecting his knees. Faust was the only vampire I knew who overcame the debilitating allergy to silver. He often flaunted this immunity by wearing costly silver armor and this time was no different. A white silk shirt was tucked into the breeches and silver plated belt with a Phoenix buckle was worn low across his hips. He wore black gloves and silver bracers; silver feather epaulets sat on his shoulders as a crimson cape hung from the epaulets. His hair was pulled back with a black silk ribbon and on his back hung the legendary Phoenix. The sword was rumored to be forged from the bones of a phoenix that failed to resurrect from its ashes. The sword itself was as black as the night sky, the handle was a phoenix likeness, and the outstretched wings were the hand guard. A red jewel was the open eye and its beak was open in a silent screech. I knew the sword to be very sharp and was deadly to humans, vampires and even the D'Arlo clan. The sword was enhanced with fire often bursting into flames when Faust was angered.

"Faust!" I stood and glanced behind me at the Faust that had been lying on the altar. It was the same clothing but not Faust. Odessa lay on the altar but still dormant. Odessa could have been Chalarty's sister with the same long blonde curls and blue eyes. It wasn't impossible that they were distant cousins since nearly every citizen of Moorhagen was ws somehow a blood relation to the DeMoors who settled the town. Only Odessa wasn't as fragile as Chalarty, she was very capable of holding her own. "Odessa?" I didn't understand why she had visited me so close to dawn or as disguised as Faust. The cloak, a wedding gift from an old mage named Dirlas, was called the Cloak of Illusions allowing her to take on the appearance of anyone she wanted. She often used it as a practical joke, but there were times she needed its magic.

"Odessa came to warn you," Faust commented.

"Why the disguise? She didn't have to come dressed as you to get through my door." Odessa was a good friend, I had known her since she was a human child and now she was a vampire approaching the age of elder. She had married my cousin, Tyrael DeMoor.

"Most humans tremble in my presence. A wise decision to come to your door as myself. Clever Odessa�"

"Apparently someone wasn't tembling, Faust," I commented as I held up the crossbow bolt. He took it from my hand, his cool skin brushing mine. He exmanined it then sniffed the tip.

"Wokamine."

"Pardon?" I asked. I was waiting for Faust to enter into one of his long winded but obscured speeches. He was never one to get straight to the point.

"Someone tried to assassinate me. Pity Odessa took the hit, she was clever to disguise herself as me but unaware even I have enemies who can overcome their fears to try to bring me down like a desperate stag." He spoke with little concern in his voice.

"Wokamine? I've never heard of it," I stated. I wasn't really surprised. Faust was a vast sea of knowledge that often made him sound as if he was omnipotent. When I was younger I often wondered if Faust was a god because he had seemed to know everything. I now know that he's a vampire and not quite godly even if he does act like it.

"There happens to be an Enchanter who lives in the Hermant Marsh. His loyalties lie to neither humans, vampires or D'Arlos. He lives for one thing." A gold coin stamped with a fleur-de-lis behind and ornate G flicked into Faust's fingertips like magic. "His curse of greed causes him to make potions, poisons and cure-alls for sale to anyone who is brave or stupid enough to travel to his keep. I've visited a few times in my youth, and our enemies it seems have also paid him a visit. Wokamine is a poison that is harmless to humans and yet fatal to vampires if administered correctly. However it seems the hunters haven't learned this yet. They dip their weapons in it." Faust's voice was aristocratic, as if it belonged to a vampire or royalty. Faust was actually both but the gift of vampirism changed his voice so that every word was clipped and arrogant. It wasn't hard to see that Faust was self centered and conceited but it didn't bother me.

"Will Odessa live?" I asked. She hadn't moved from where I had placed her. Odessa with her soft pale skin and other physical similarities to my Chalarty. Around her troat was a small gray stone with a lightning bold carved in it. I suddenly noticed how similar it looked to the stone that my own wife had worn. Odessa was an angel in more eyes than just her husband's. I came to think that I loved Odesa more than just platonic relationship that we shared. Only one night the relationship went past friendship in that evening I succumbed to lust or loneliness, Odessa and I shared a bed. I felt so ashamed of the act the next morning of having deflowered Tyrael's bride to be, the night before they were wed. Nine months later she gave birth to a child, my daughter, Harmony. It is something in Odessa's genes that allowed her to carry and give birth to a vampire child. Oddly Odessa hasn't had any more children. She came to visit often and has tried more than once for me to bed her but I refused. I betrayed Tyrael once, I was never going to do it again.

"She isn't me in sheer strength, but her will is nearly equal to my own. She will survive and awake with� a hangover." Faust said with a faint smile. He wasn't quite the sadohedonist that legend made him out to be, but he still had a warped sense of humor.

"I have to get her to Tyrael," I replied.

"I will take you there but I won't stay. I am not the most welcomed guest at Castle DeMoor." Faust wasn't kidding, if it weren't for the absolute respect Faust had for the ancient vampire, he'd probably have killed him and taken his powers. It was also vice versa for Tyrael. He respected but did not approve of one so young to be so strong to rival the ancients. In years, Faust was on the verge of becoming an ancient vampire, but those labeled 'ancients' were the originaly race of vampires called the Shakara. They were born vampires, not embraced. The Shakara were a dying race and only a few remained. Their numbers are not known but in all my centuries the only shakara I had ever seen was Tyrael. Faust was human before he became a vampire, my journals gave enough proof for that.

"Pick her up, cousin," he ordered softly. Faust never called me by my name. I was always cousin or when he was mad I was childe. I lifted Odessa from the altar and turned back to my sire. My vision was quickly filled with purple light before darkness over powered it. Faust's voice came to my ears. "Beware of an offered taste of life's essence, cousin." It was Faust's voice but it came from nowhere and everywhere at the same time.