One of Those Nights [Aurelia]

[Alaric von der Marck]

AURELIA
It had been seven years from the last time that she called Harper Rock home. The thought hadn't been lost on her as she parked her Jeep on the driveway behind her dad's ugly blue Mercedes; before she had left, there had been an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach for the longest time. Leaving had helped subside the feeling, but it hadn't stopped those who sought her out. It had been an unnerving occasion when she had awoken in the middle of the night with a cold sensation rolling down her spine, to find herself being stared at by a woman or a man with a broken expression.

There were others with a torn expression, those who had died violently and abruptly, and in ways that she had hoped were not possible. Sometimes they helped her, and other times they wanted to hurt. Most of them wanted unfinished business to be solved, and as she got older, Aurelia had gotten better at it - although, she would argue that it helped strongly that she didn't have to deal with them often. There were the occasional difficult cases, where some of the spirits were almost too human and the further she found herself away from Harper Rock, there were less of them.

The last one had been there two years previously, that is, until earlier that day. And now, with her forearms resting against the steering wheel, the woman stared out the windshield as she thought about it all. Her icy blue eyes looked at the manor, considering the odd old fashioned woman who had appeared after her father had stepped out to find her mother. "The long dead Alaric von der Marck walks among the living." The spirit had lead her down the hallways, then, her soft voice repeating the words over and over again before she found herself staring at a portrait of a handsome blond man. Her ancestor. "He dwells in the darkness."

It took her a few moments to gather her keys, to put her bag underneath her front seat and then she began to walk her way to the front. "Any time now, spirits." She muttered quietly to herself as she could hear quiet whispers the closer the got to the grounds. As a kid, it had never made sense to why she disliked the compound - her parents had written it off as imaginary friends, but as an adult, Aurelia knew that she hadn't had imaginary friends: she was a medium. And there were a lot of unrested spirits there. But where, she wondered, was this Alaric? And how, if he had been dead for so long, how did he walk among the living?


ALARIC VON DER MARCK
It was like a whisper on the wind whenever someone new entered Alaric’s bubble of awareness. It was a bubble that extended from his subconscious and stretched to the edges of the Estate -- or at least the parts of the Estate that were the most commonly inhabited. Although the elder tried not to pry or push past the boundaries of propriety when touching the minds of others, he kept the mental lines open enough to know who was there, and to be aware of their general state of wellbeing. If they were further afield he had to try harder to contact them -- which he did, on occasion, if he hadn’t heard from them in a while.

But, they had survived this long without him, and his return hadn’t put them in any sudden danger. Rather than play some kind of possessive mother hen, Alaric loosened his hold on his concern for his living descendants and allowed them the privacy they were owed.

The night started as it usually did -- Alaric woke, and immediately stoked the fire in the grate near his bed so that it leapt to roaring. He could not abide the dark. He then dressed -- not planning on going anywhere, he dressed himself in the casual attire he had become so accustomed to, and which he now realised he preferred. He had yet to fully realise that his version of ‘casual’ did not align with common perception. But he wasn’t wearing a tie. Or a vest. That, to Alaric, was casual.

The first thing he did, most nights, was take a walk around the Estate; like a watchdog, of sorts, but more for the fresh air that he had been deprived of for so long. He always slipped out the back door, would circled around the front and come back down the driveway toward the front. There was a side door through which he liked to enter. It was a route he’d taken long ago -- one that mostly kept him away from the scurrying of busy feet, away from the eyes of the living. There weren’t many people living here these days, so it was easier to do.

Except when he came down the driveway tonight, it was to be met with a stranger at the front door. He cleared his throat to alert the stranger to his presence, his hands pushed non-threateningly into his pockets.

“Can I help you?” he asked, speaking in heavily accented English assuming that the stranger would not understand his native German.


AURELIA
When she was a child, her grandmother had often enjoyed taking her around the estate. Showing her things, talking about their family and the history of the von der Marck line. She had never minded the stories, either. Now as the woman made her way further up the walk, Aurelia couldn't help but think back on the moments. Sometimes, when her grandfather walked with them, the man would coax his grandchild to wander off with him so he could tell his own tales. They were bittersweet moments that she remembered long after her grandfather had passed. His spirit hadn't lingered, either, despite the young woman having searched for days after his death.

It was, however, one of these tales that had her returning after the sundown. The myth that her great ancestor Alaric being a vampire had always been preposterous - and that was saying a lot from the fact she could see spirits all her life. She had always laughed at her grandfather’s excitement when the topic of the supernatural and their family ties had been mentioned. He had always told her not to view her ability as a curse, but rather a gift… and as Aurelia remembered his words, she tried to remember what she had heard about one Alaric von der Marck. There wasn't much that clung to her subconscious. Three sons, one of which having been her direct relation to the man. Her lips pressed into a brief line. Would he be able to aid her, even if the rumors were true?

As she folded her arms in front of her chest and gave them a rub in attempt to warm herself in the evening air, she silently cursed that she’d forgotten her jacket that went along with her clothes at her parents home. It was with a mental sigh that Aurelia scolded herself, knowing that she had been going to an area with spirits that she stopped at the sound of a throat being cleared.

Her ice blue eyes looked in the direction and she blinked. It was almost too easy for the woman to believe, finding who she needed now. She focused, and as she walked to be a few paces away from the man, she was almost certain that he wasn’t a spirit. But… “Are you Alaric?” She asked, “Alaric von der Marck?” Her blue eyes moved over his form, almost in disbelief. It had to be him, unless he had a clone. And almost as if it were needing to be confirmed, she didn’t miss the sight of the spirit from earlier. Simply watching. Waiting. The woman’s milky eyes were locked on the figure.

Turning her attention away from the spirit, her gaze locked back on the man in front of him. “My name is Aurelia von der Marck, and I’m looking for him.” No ********, straight to the point. If there was one thing that she had always liked from her career, it was that.


ALARIC VON DER MARCK
When the woman turned around, Alaric was taken aback. The shock was subtle as it briefly washed over his features. It was a face that he remembered, the blonde framing freckles and piercing eyes. It was his own blood that he could see -- right back to the beginning. Johannes had a child, whose grandchild was a girl. A beautiful girl, who took after her mother, whose father was a von der Marck. Her name was Gertrude. He liked Aurelia better.

And then she moved, her face shown in a different light, and he could see the differences; the shape of the face was a little different, perhaps the tone of the skin. There were differences, and it was those differences that Alaric focused on. At least, the qualms he had about lying about his identity were calmed, somewhat. He certainly didn’t have any doubts as to hers. His head cocked to the side, mental fingers reaching out -- it was easier than checking over his shoulders, looking for danger. There was no one there but Aurelia.

“I am Alaric,” he said, taking the few steps up to the front door. When he turned the handle, it opened -- they should have kept it locked. But they didn’t -- not with people coming and going throughout day and night. The door opened to a vast lobby, from which one could see the grand marble staircase.

“You had better come in,” he said, gesturing inside. “I will make you tea. And you will tell me why you are looking for me,” he said, his accent think but his English getting better every night -- better to speak it as much as he could in order to keep it clear and concise in his head. He stood aside, clear eyes curious, a subtle smile on his lips.


AURELIA
How many years had it been since Alaric von der Marck had been alive? It was a question that Aurelia could not find herself able to answer as she stared at the man in front of her. A few centuries, at least. She had seen spirits that were almost human before, but he was something entirely different. There was always a tale, but there wasn’t one now. Almost as if she were pleased with herself, the spirit whom had spoken to her earlier vanished - later, Aurelia would find herself wondering if that had been what she had been waiting on before passing over.

At first, she didn’t know what to think as the man opened the door. She almost expected it to be a prank; spirits were asses at times, too, but when nothing popped out at her, Aurelia lifted her chin lightly before stepping forward. There was no fear, no need to be concerned, right? After all, he did admit his name and as she gave a nod of her head, she tugged at the hem of her shirt.

“That sounds nice, Alaric.” As she stepped up the steps, she cursed herself mentally about her jacket. Although she couldn’t see the presences around, there was that feeling again. The one she’d had for years before she had left Harper Rock. It would fade in time, she knew, but it was always such a pain. And in a place where family had passed, it just simply felt worse.

She gave the man a small smile and stepped inside, looking around the lobby. Her grandmother had always liked the staircase, insisted on taking pictures of her grandchildren there. Then again, she supposed the woman just liked to take pictures of her grandchildren regardless. “It hasn’t changed since I was last here. Hardly anything does, I guess.” The words were said thoughtfully, “I see they still leave the door unlocked. It used to drive me crazy when my grandfather was here.”


ALARIC VON DER MARCK
Alaric stepped through the front door behind Aurelia, closing it behind him. He then took the lead as he meandered through to where the kitchen was located, down a small hallway past the staircase. It was a grand kitchen, once meant only for the staff to use but now renovated and modernised for the use of anyone who found themselves in the house. Although staff were hired to do the cleaning, they only came once a week. There were no cooks. There were gardeners who helped Louvel, though Louvel did most of the work around the Estate -- Alaric had to admit that he preferred it this way. He did not like too many strangers in the house. Even if the tunnels underneath were secure from prying eyes -- they’d got through them once before, to slaughter him in his sleep. Now, he would not make their existence common knowledge.

“It has changed much since I was last here,” he said, a smile lingering on his lips. His mood was light tonight, and he assumed given that Aurelia was here and was looking for him -- knowing that he was alive -- she must know that he hadn’t exactly lived a mortal lifetime.

Once they’d reached the kitchen he gestured to one of the stools at the kitchen bench; he knew how to make tea only because he’d insisted that Leonie show him how, so that he could do so for his human relatives from time to time. Though, he still did bumble his way through the process. “What brings you here, Aurelia…?” he asked. Easier to converse with her, to keep the conversation going to distract her, so that she might not see that Alaric wasn’t as accustomed to the modern appliances as he could have been. He’d have preferred a metal pot boiled over the fire, but then that would truly be showing his age.

[Aurelia]

AURELIA
She could imagine that it had. What was he, her grandfather to the power of fifteen? It was something like that. The idea of doing the math made her head hurt, it was almost four hundred years, if not more. Aurelia had been good in math, but it wasn't her strong suit or her forte. The woman considered it all. The undead, the spirits. How exactly did these things happen in this town? As they walked, she could feel different presences and chose to step closer to Alaric. “How long had it been?” She asked, not realizing what she had done as she looked around the lobby. Her blue eyes moved back to the man, taking in his smile ano offering one of her own.

She followed him without difficulty. The heels of her boots gave soft clicks with each step forward she took. If she had gone back to the ranch, she would have been barefoot the moment she stepped over the threshold. Even as a kid, she would have done it there, but now? It wasn't thinkable. Aurelia looked towards the stool he gestured at and moved to sit, tucking the toe of her boot behind one of the bottom rails as she did.

“Well, firstly a spirit sought me out and lead me to your portrait in my parent’s home.” The words would have sounded strange, foreign to others. She'd long since abandoned trying to explain her curse to some, but it was always the same when she did, “Spirits come to me for help. I'm a medium. I can see them. This particular one, I suspect, wanted the truth about you to be known by someone.” She frowned. “As she disappeared shortly after I ran into you. But, I do not know why truly. Why do you think she may have led me to you?”


ALARIC VON DER MARCK
The tea, now seeping, was abandoned for a minute or three. The elder considered the other with unbridled curiosity, unable to resist the urge to reach out to her mind, to touch it with his own, to see into her soul -- as much as he was able. There, he caught the memories of her childhood -- some in this very estate. And numerous encounters with spirits. There was truth in her words, as strange as they should have sounded. But she was not the only one of her kind that Alaric had met. In his years before death, there’d always been one around. He’d have to speak with Judah -- or even ask Aurelia herself -- as to whose bloodline she belonged to. But it had passed down from somewhere, in the line. The von der Marck were special, and not only because they had an immortal elder watching over them.

He wondered how many spirits this girl could see on this estate; whether there were old ancestors still around. Whether the one who had betrayed him, lingered. What about the one who’d killed him? Had someone captured him before he’d had time to escape? And what about Gregor…? Was he at peace, or was he still wandering these halls, waiting for Alaric to fulfil an unspoken promise?

Alaric eventually cleared his throat and carried the tray with the steeped tea and the jug of milk, the cup and saucer, over to where Aurelia sat. A single mug and saucer. Alaric, of course, would not partake. He was mesmerised momentarily by the steam rising from the spout of the small pot he’d used. Why would a spirit lead her to him? Could spirits read minds? Could they see his dreams? Could they know the things that he wanted, or were their reasons for hanging around entirely selfish? He shook his head and offered a vague shrug.

“I do not know why she would have led you to me. Except that you are von der Marck,” he said, the family name heavy as it passed his lips, weighted with importance. “And this is where you belong. My portrait, my presence, only a pawn, to bring you to the doorstep,” he said, sliding the tray closer to Aurelia, his eyes still upon her face.


AURELIA
Her relationships with her cousins had always been well enough. She'd always been one who had held familial relationships above and beyond. Her parents and sibling were dear to her heart, too. If they went a day or two without contacting each other, Aurelia's mother would worry heavily. She always wanted the young woman to call or text her, even send an email if she were too busy. It wasn't too bad, really. It just meant that they were close. As she watched Alaric, she could see subtle resemblances to her father, to the photos of her grandfather, of looks that hadn't died out over the generations given. It was a refreshing thing to see, really.

A comforting one.

To her left, there was a glimmer of movement. Aurelia turned her head to check and saw the glimpse of blonde hair. A little girl whom she'd recognized over the years from her own childhood. Looking away, she proceeded to ignore the spirit as she simply waited. As she listened to Alaric speak, Aurelia gave the man a soft smile of thanks. When he was finished speaking, she began to make her tea. One bit of sugar, a small amount of milk. Her grandmother had always teased her when she was younger about adding too much of both so that she couldn't taste the tea leaves.

Now, she did the exact opposite.

"Harper Rock has always been my home." She admitted as she stirred the cup of tea idly, "And my family has been here for ages, through your son, Johannes. I suppose I would have come here regardless of the spirit or not." Aurelia lifted her chin to look at the man. "I am glad that we have an elder around, especially the Patriarch of the line. Even if I don't quite understand how." She heard the soft giggle again and there was a chill down her spine. "You died. A long time ago, but the time when you disappeared, you weren't human."


ALARIC VON DER MARCK
The conversation had veered away from mere small talk. They did not know each other at all but, through her resemblance to Gertrude it was like he’d known her for years -- even though they were two completely different people.

Aurelia mentioned Johannes which brought back many memories, both good and bad. Johannes had been the most prolific of his sons and it was no surprise, then, that there were so many descended from his loins. Alaric could see many faces when he thought of his son -- that of the baby, fresh from the womb, of the grown man, of the elderly man, just before death took him into its gentle arms. He shuddered now, to think that they all might be in that place where Alaric had suffered for centuries. But he had not seen them, had not found them -- unless they were the faceless, voiceless shadows, unrecognisable, eroded over time. Was that what happened to everyone when they died? Or did their spirits often linger, the ones that Aurelia could see?

Was she seeing one now, the way she turned her head to look at something that was not there? Alaric turned, too, but could only see an empty doorway.

Although Aurelia had asked no questions, Alaric nodded. He was silent for ten seconds before he decided that he would explain. Aurelia, then, must not have spoken to Judah, or to Louvel, Leonie … or they had not explained to their cousin what had happened, or how, or who Alaric was, exactly.

“I was not human. I was alive for two centuries before my death. I am alive again. It was a ritual that brought me back. Magic, wrought with family blood,” he said. He glanced down at his finger where the ring with the family crest upon it glinted in the kitchen’s light. The ring had played a part in the ritual; he’d come back from death wearing it, and hadn’t taken it off since.

“It is not fate that had brought me back, but the whim of family. It is my goal to start again what I was forced to stop, though I must adjust, first…” he said. And the family must adjust to him, he knew. He could not come in and start ordering them around, and nor did he wish to. This modern age, however, with their modern, independent mindset -- it was harder than he thought to be who he had once been.


AURELIA
Aurelia’s eyes did not miss the shudder. A frown played across her lips as she said gently, “I haven’t seen him, here, on the grounds.” It was meant to reassure him that his son had not been walking the earth since his death, but she wondered if it was something he had been wondering. The woman moved the cup between her palms, taking in its warmth and mentally visualizing the way that the steam enveloped her, the smell of the tea bag much more relaxing than simply being there.

Though, Alaric was not a presence she felt threatened by. Nor were most of the spirits she could feel in the kitchen, either. “I must admit that I don’t really pay much mind to things that have happened in this place. At least, when it comes to magic.” It was ironic, really, coming from a girl who could see the death. “But I don’t understand how you were not human.” Her blue eyes studied the man carefully, until she said, “The rumors about Harper Rock. Vampires. Is that true?” It was a better way, she thought, than outright gasping and feeling like she was Bella from Twilight. Her gaze followed his to the ring as she considered it all. A magical ritual bringing a man whom had been dead for so long back to life.

All in all, it really didn’t sound all that crazy.

But then again, she’d been known to be the girl who talked to herself for a long while, when in truth Aurelia had spoken to spirits her entire life. There were far and few who knew, but at least she knew Judah hadn’t reacted negatively to it. She made a mental note to get back in touch with her cousin. Was he still traveling, or was he back in the compound? Her parents hadn’t mentioned anything, but her mother had been too ecstatic that she was back home, while her father had been apologizing about the way that the ranch had fallen into disrepair in some places.

She hadn’t gotten the chance to ask about him, nor Louvel. “If you have any questions, I can try to help?” She offered. “I’ve got some adjustment myself to do, but I imagine it was a culture shock to see how things have… gotten.” Aurelia said, hesitantly reaching forward to put her hand over the man’s. “Our family can be complicated, stubborn even. But we have a strong will to live. My grandfather used to tell me we got it from you, is that true?”


ALARIC VON DER MARCK
When her hand closed over his, she would feel how cold his skin was. His eyes were sharp as he watched her, more surprised than anything else. He assumed that she would know. Why? Because so many others did, despite Alaric’s wish that his species be kept secret. He assumed the rumour would have spread in hushed tones throughout the family tree, scattered as it may be. Believed by some and dismissed by many others. But here was an Aurelia von der Marck, and she was asking Alaric if vampires were real.

“Ja,” he said. “It is true,” he added. She’d said she did not understand how he was not human, and though he stumbled over the statement, he wondered if it was an unasked question. Was he a vampire? Was he something supernatural that could live for centuries? A small smile played at the corners of the elder von der Marck’s lips. She had not asked the question outright. He decided he would not give her the answer until she did. Not just because it amused him, but because he was still unsure whether it was something he should so easily give away. He had been betrayed by family before. He would be ignorant to think it could not happen again.

“There is no point in life if there is no will to live,” Alaric answered. Whether or not the bloodline had gained such stubbornness from him, he could not know. It was a grand claim, and though he had centuries upon his shoulders, Alaric was a modest man. “Death is a natural enemy. It is foolish to walk into his waiting arms,” he said. And, now that Alaric knew what death was, had experienced it for himself, he could only utter those words with genuine weight. Again, he smiled.

“Help? No. My feet are firm on the ground. There is no shock, only pleasant surprise,” he said. He was no longer an invalid, no longer a frail old man in need of constant attention. Most things, now, he could figure out on his own, his fear of the world outside of the Estate ebbing with each night he pushed against it.

[Aurelia]

She had never been one for rumors. As a teenager, the slightest amount of gossip turned her off to a topic and now, unless it was one that could be proven, Aurelia preferred to tell someone where to shove it. It had been a rumor that turned out to be true that had ruined her engagement, combined with her uncanny ability to walk in on the wrong thing at the right time. The idea that vampires were real toyed with her skeptism, even if she could see ghosts. There were some things that didn't quite make sense, but as she sat there with Alaric, felt his cold hand, she supposed the question to ask if he were one would be moot.

After she'd given his hand a squeeze, Aurelia moved it back to the cup she'd been holding. The warmth outweighing the cold sensation that seemed to linger for a few moments before it began to melt away. She studied his features and decided that it did not matter what he was. He was family, even if he had been gone for centuries. Taking a sip from her tea, Aurelia considered it, however. Why had he died - the fact he had been gone was verified, that he had been brought back? Which of her cousins had brought him back, and how? He said a ritual was involved. She'd never thought any of them to dabble in something they didn't understand, but then again, how long had it been since she'd actually sat down with any of them?

She'd have to contact Judah. She wondered if her mother still had his number, although she knew his email was somewhere. It was in her address book, probably still in a box in her car, actually. She had still yet to get to the proper contents of her office from back home. The one she would be taking over in the ranch needed to be painted a few times and decorated. And then, once it was settled, she needed to start looking into a new proper office that she could start a new legal counsel center in. It would be a while before she worked as a prosecutor again. She needed to get her feet on the ground, first.

"One's body would give out shortly after a soul did." She agreed; she had seen it a few times with the dead. Her lips twitched softly at his words and Aurelia gave a shrug of her shoulders. "I think it depends if one is ready for death, then it's acceptable. Otherwise, I agree. My grandfather had been in pain for a long time before he passed. He's in a better place, not stuck here." She gave a shake of her head, "But, I cannot imagine it either way. Peaceful and accepting, violent and unwilling. Fear registers in both, I believe."

A chuckle escaped past her lips. At least he seemed to adapt well? "The offer will remain open, either way, Alaric."

[Alaric von der Marck]

There were fears that Alaric could reveal to Aurelia, but it would be cruel to do so—not if the elder was not certain. He did not know if there was a difference between human souls and vampire souls, but there were as many human souls in the Shadow Realm as there were vampire. To say that her grandfather was in a better place? Alaric had his doubts. Humans, in the realm, were as much food for vampires as they were in reality.

Death was such a strange thing to the elder. He’d seen it come and go so often before he’d been entrenched in it for two centuries. He might have thought death was an enemy that could not touch him. But now he knew it was something he could fear. No—not fear. It was something he wished to respect.

”It must be hard…your gift,” he said. Two words that didn’t belong in a sentence, but which he meant regardless. Gifts could be as hard as curses. Any one thing could be considered both. It depended only on one’s mindset, one’s willingness to accept.

”For how long have you had it?” he asked. If she’d had it since childhood, how does one grow normally? How does one exist in a world filled with spirits who had unfinished business? Were they sad, or were they angry? What things had Aurelia been witness to, and how had they shaped her?

He wondered for how long she would be staying. Whether she would become a familiar face around the Estate. Questions that they had plenty of time to address.

[Aurelia]

Aurelia considered the word gift in regards to her ability. It had always been so strange, seeing things that others couldn't. The damned, the innocent. Victims to themselves, as much as she saw others. "The most difficult part had always been whether or not knowing someone was actually there, or not." She admitted after a few moments. At a younger age, Aurelia hadn't been able to tell.

Nowadays, she was able to study the clothing of some, or to look at the way that they dressed, hear the way they spoke. Some spirits would flicker, others would seem as solid as they were, sitting at the table. But, there was occasionally a giveaway.

She couldn't touch a spirit, but she could sense them. Hear them. Someone who had died recently often had their worst injuries still there, such as the woman she'd seen in the stands at her high school; she'd died in a car accident down the road and was still trying to get home.

"I've had it for as long as I can remember. It started off as something slow." As she took a sip of her tea, Aurelia thought of her parents. They hadn't been accepting or forthcoming about the fact she'd inherited it. That she'd had a family member or two before her with the ability driven mad. "My parents always knew, but they acted as if they were imaginary friends, to see if I would properly develop it, go insane, or if I would grow out of it."

Her fingertips drummed against the table briefly. That bit of information wasn't something she hardly liked to share. She didn't like to admit it, the idea that she could have lost her mind - it was a terribly thing to waste. She even woke up early to play an extra puzzle or two that would challenge her. Before her engagement had ended, there had been a chess board where she and her fiancé had always done one move a day; it hadn't ever finished.

Instead, Aurelia had kicked the board over by accident the day she'd ran out and never turned back.

"The older I got, the more difficult. But, I've adapted. I'm still learning. It can be a bit overwhelming at times, and that's initially why I left, it was difficult and there was a constant state of dread I can still feel... Harper Rock is home, though. And sometimes it's best to start over in a familiar place." Her ex wouldn't come there looking for her, nor would her friends. It was a good way to escape the past, she felt.

[Alaric von der Marck]

Given Leonie’s history with her parents, her family in general, and Louvel’s with his father, Alaric was beginning to wonder whether the whole von der Marck family above the youngest generation were corrupt. Not in a criminal way, but morally. They all seemed to lack the ability to properly care for their children. In Aurelia’s case, they appeared to know it was a possibility, something that could be passed on, and yet they had done nothing about it. Had none of them, through the generations, thought to harness the gift, to properly prepare any child who showed signs of having received it?

Alaric did not voice his distaste; he could understand the other side of the fence, too. Aurelia’s parents did what they thought best, or they chose to ignore the problem because they did not understand it. Most commonly, humanity was afraid of what they did not understand.

”You are among family who will understand what you are experiencing,” he said, though he was aware of his mistake. They would not understand, not completely. As far as Alaric was aware, none of the others had the ability to see the spirits of the dead. It was not something that he had experienced.

”What I mean to say, you are among family who will understand that the supernatural, it is not something to fear. It is not something to dread,” he said, but flinched. It was minimal, a mere twitch, but it was there. Was it a lie? The supernatural was not roses and cream. It could be something to dread, but all the dread had diminished from Alaric’s psyche. There existed guilt and regret, shame. There was the memory of dread, the memory of misunderstanding, of complete and utter terror. Alaric knew what it was to be confused, to stumble along without the answers. But he’d had centuries to figure it out, to come to an understanding.

And Aurelia, here, would have help, and guidance, and acceptance. Should she need it.

”Where are you living…?” he asked, curious.

[Aurelia]

Aurelia did not miss the way that Alaric had elaborated on what was said. She considered her cousins quietly as she wondered how all of them would feel about it. Judah was the only two of the von der Marcks who she knew for a fact knew about her gift outside of her immediate family. "In my experience, sometimes it's not the supernatural that one needs to fear." It had been a spirit that had her switching from defense attorney to prosecutor after witnessing what one of her clients had done first hand.

"Humans are just as dangerous as any supernatural creature, or animal. I'd rather deal with a vampire drinking blood because they need it than a man who simply kills for fun." She idly swirled the liquid inside of her cup, lifting her gaze to Alaric's as she frowned. Her piercing blue eyes saw the flinch. "If you're worrying about offending me, you shouldn't. I have a thick skin." It wasn't as if she was worried about their family insulting or mocking her, really. The blonde remembered the disbelief and trouble caused by a friend, the way her own sister didn't even seem to believe her at first.

It had been her maternal grandmother whom had helped her out the most. She wasn't a von der Marck, but she'd been kind enough to show her all of what she needed. She'd taken the time to show Aurelia how not to become overwhelmed straight away in the chance there was a large gathering of spirits. She purposely avoided graveyards, funeral homes, and churches specifically for that reason. At the question of where lived, Aurelia couldn't help but smile a bit. "My parents own a ranch, just outside of town. I can leave you the address, if you'd like?"

Her paternal grandparents had lived on the estate. Even her parents had at one point, too, hadn't they? But when Aurelia was a teenager, she remembered them living in the ranch, specifically, before they moved. There was a foundation issue that she knew would take a few weeks to fix, she'd already looked into it, and the roof needed to be patched up on the left wing. While the damage wasn't severe to the ceiling, yet, she wanted to get the repairs done before she'd set up her home office, there. "But, I've been staying there, I prefer the country - there's less spirits to deal with."

[Alaric von der Marck]

Alaric nodded.

”I had asked only because there are rooms here, if you should wish…” he said, peering at Aurelia curiously. His sharp gaze shifted through the kitchen door, imagining the estate beyond. There was history attached to it; not just history that he remembered, but history that he didn’t. Two century’s worth of life and death, and he wondered how much of it was good. How many deaths were fair, or peaceful? The Estate had been further out from the city two centuries ago but the land he owned still kept the noise and chaos at bay. A ranch, though—it might only have been built a few years ago. Ten or twenty, it didn’t matter. It was less than three centuries. There’d be less death there. She was right.

”A vampire needs only practice, and the blood of humans is not a requirement,” he said. There’d been moments that he had been tempted, of course. He remembered how vital and robust the blood of a human could be. But he also remembered how he had lost so much of his control; and control was not something that he was willing to sacrifice again. The thrill of the hunt gave him the adrenaline required, and animals were harder to hunt. They were hardwired to run from predators. They knew him for what he was, instinctively. Humans lacked the foresight to know when danger was standing right in front of them. Humans could be lured into a false sense of security. He pitied them.

”I was not worried for offending you, Aurelia. I was worried for lying. It is something that I must re… re speak. There are things to fear from the supernatural, but they do not exist in this house,” he said. Spirits, as far as he was aware—if they existed here—meant no one any harm. Beyond that, he was not aware of any other supernatural thing on the estate that would do any of his family harm. Of that, he could be certain he was not lying.

[Aurelia]

Her bright blue eyes shone that she was glad to hear it, but again, Aurelia gave a shake of her head."That's very sweet of you." The ranch had her own personality history, but, she also didn't have to worry about her ex coming to knocking. Even if by some chance he remembered where the estate was located, he didn't know where Aurelia's ranch was. And she wouldn't have any family member frowning at her disapprovingly if she pointed her shotgun at him - telling the man to get the hell off her porch.

That reason, however, was kept to herself.

"I'm actually thinking about getting some animals. Horses, maybe. We sold mine when I was a child, but first comes the repairs." There were other things she needed to do. "So I'll need the land."

It was a comforting thought, that the blood of humans wasn't needed. "Was it easy, your change?" She didn't know the best way to put it. "Going from human to vampire?" Was it frightening? There were many questions that Aurelia knew that she could ask. There were questions that could be asked over time, however.

"As I said, there are things to fear with those who are not supernatural, as well." She admitted, "I've seen a lot from spirits, but I don't fear them. Humans are guilty of violence, too." The thought of it all had her frowning as she touched the cup once more. It was because of humans that she learned to fight defensively, that her sister did, as well. "The home has them around, but no, I have never come across any malicious ones here." Yet. The word lingered between them as she looked around from habit.

She'd never seen any. Sure, there were ones that argued, but she'd learned from a young age that if she tuned some of them out, there wasn't much one could do. Occasionally, she found angry spirits. Only once did she find one far beyond any help, aside from the lonely. The lost. There weren't very many that she couldn't get to.

[Alaric von der Marck]

The question was a hard one, and it was a story Alaric did not often tell. The truth of his transition from human to vampire was a hard one to accept. They were hard memories to recall; they were nightmares that still lingered, should he let them in or dwell on them for too long. Although he knew that any whom he turned would have help and a guiding hand, he was not certain that a guiding hand would be a cure-all for the things one must suffer. Because there was someone to keep a fledgling from causing violence does not mean that they would not feel the urge. Those who were peaceful in life, who would never harm a fly, to suddenly feel and imagine that they could rip another human’s throat out? No, it was not easy.

At the notion that humans were guilty of violence, too, Alaric could only nod. Human violence was the reason for his transition. War. It was unavoidable. Humans would always be at war with each other for some reason or another. History always repeated itself. Humans could blow each other up in town squares or in metal boxes flying into buildings. Humans could face each other across a peaceful green field and shoot bullets at one another. They could bury bombs in the ground in the hope that they would take someone else’s leg. They could stab each other to death in fits of rage or passion. The inherent violence in humanity was why vampires should be feared. That violence was amplified, tenfold. And it took a lot to control one’s emotions so as not to let that violence out.

”I agree, that humanity is the root cause for supernatural violence, and I am glad that you have not yet had cause to witness violence from my kind – or from your spirits. As for the transition, it is not something that I wish to talk about,” he said, matter-of-fact. Until he softened: ”Yet. It is a conversation for another night,” he added. Eventually, when offers were made to the von der Marcks, when they were given the opportunity to become immortal, he would tell them everything. They would be given every fact, good and bad. They would be reassured of his intent to guide and teach, to make their passage far easier than his was. But it would not be perfect, nor would it ever be easy.

”I do like horses. I will come visit, I will help with them,” he said with a nod, returning to the topic of Aurelia’s living situation.