“What is that thing doing here?” Cyan asks while jutting his thumb towards me.

“Thing?” I repeat, aghast.

“You should know, Cyan, seeing as you were meant to meet him at the airship station this afternoon and escort him to the estate. Luckily for Seren, he’s at least capable of finding his way,” Draven replies in a manner that I believe to be insulting because at least capable is a very odd yet specific way of phrasing a statement.

Cyan holds up a finger to argue, then he gapes, stares, rapidly blinks, and huffs in slow realization. I’ve also slowly realized that he does not quite suit his name. Emerald green eyes. Silver hair. All black clothes covering almost every piece of pale skin regardless of the summer heat. Where’s the cyan? Who named him and were they color blind? Or am I color blind?

“Damn,” Cyan says with a roll of his shoulders. “That’s my fault, but I wouldn’t have gone even if I weren’t busy--”

“You mean if you didn’t forget?”

Draven’s question is ignored as Cyan continues, “I have no interest in helping a religious zealot. Why the hell is he here anyway?”

“That was also explained when I told you to retrieve him from the station.” Draven’s smile speaks volumes; he’s a second away from retiring the resident idiot. Permanently.

“Well, I, uh…” Cyan blushes, then digs a finger in his ear and stares at the ground where he knocks the tip of his toe against the grass. “Your… your voice annoys me! So, like, whenever you speak I don’t process the information.”

“Clearly.”

Cyan flinches like someone pricked him with a needle.

Draven turns to walk away. “Clean up your mess quickly, otherwise you’ll miss out on dinner.”

“It’s time for dinner?!” Cyan bolts towards the smoking cathedral. “I’ll be right there! Don’t let that brainwashed trout anyone near my food. He’ll contaminate it!”

Religious zealot. Brainwashed trout. I’m eager to hear what name he creates for me next. I knew I wouldn’t be welcome, but this has taken a turn I never expected. Even the children despise me for something I didn’t know to be insulting. Lore is a careful trickster. I’ll have to do my best to match him.

Draven guides me to the dining hall where Lore, Arline, and the children line a long table overflowing with food and blood. Consuming human blood without permission is illegal so vampires rely on animals. Dhampir consume food and blood, needing a bit of both to be healthy. Regardless, the sight of pitchers containing thick crimson being passed around like it’s mere water makes my stomach knot. Two maids scurry around the table, ensuring that everyone has everything. Lore rises from his chair to assist Reegan in slicing through a bloody steak.

“Take a seat wherever you’d like,” Lore says without looking my way before retaking his seat at the head of the table. “Feel free to let the cook know if there is anything special you’d like. He’ll be sure to make it from time to time during your stay.”

“I appreciate any food given to us by the Three Mothers,” I reply and take a seat next to Darika, seeing as the only other option is Arline. Between the two, I choose the moody teen that glares over the glaring House Mother.

Conversation flows across the table. Nothing out of the ordinary, just typical child-like innocence where they discuss games, toys, and the occasional hair tugging. Lore listens intently to his children and spends more time on his feet than eating. He wipes food from the twins' chins when they make a mess or rushes over to prevent Nalo from dumping a goblet of blood all over him. A doting father or good at pretending to be one?

Arline never takes her glare off me so my food tastes extra spicy. Draven never joins us, but I guess butler’s usually don’t? And when Cyan arrives, he grabs a plate while ignoring my attempt to call for him, then hurries out of the room to do who knows what. I just hope it doesn’t involve an explosion in the main house. My heart continues to ache for the destruction of such a lovely cathedral that, based on Draven’s reaction, has likely been blown up a few times prior to this incident. What a waste and insult to the Mothers.

At the end of dinner, Arline takes the children back outside to play. Lore gestures for me to follow him to the second floor.

“Your room is this way,” he says, escorting me through the halls to one of the last doors on the right.

“You didn’t have to walk me. I could have found my way.” And I would have been able to snoop, although that may be the very reason he didn’t take his eyes off me. I highly doubt he believes I’m here to investigate the Red Moon group. He doesn’t trust the church, and therefore doesn’t trust me. So long as he doesn’t know my true intentions though, I should be able to find answers in time.

To be perfectly honest, I’m not entirely certain why Olere or the others chose me for this mission. I’ve always done more battle focused fieldwork, fighting against vampires that have caused harm to mortals and protecting our people against their cruelty, but I will not question their orders. They sent me for a reason. The only reason I can conclude is that they suspect this place to be dangerous and needed someone who could handle themselves if the situation turned sour. I won’t fail them.

“I’m certain you could have found your way, but I’m worried.” Lore rests a hand over his heart. “A man of faith isn’t accustomed to such luxuries. I will stay by your side in case the shock is too much for you.”

“I never expected you to have a sense of humor, even if it’s lackluster.”

“Everyone has a sense of humor, albeit some more than others.” He opens the door to my accomodations that is, as he said; luxurious.

My room at the church contained only what I needed; a bed, a closet, a lamp, a wrack for my axe, and a shelf for the Three Mother’s doctrine. The room I’ve been given has that and much, much more. A deep green canopy encapsulates the bed that could house four. A fireplace sits across the room with two chairs and a coffee table practically begging to be used. There’s also a door leading to another room that I’m almost worried about inspecting.

“This is far more than I need or could ask for. Thank you, Lord Seymour.” I smile at him, already expecting him to play innocent by pursing his lips.

“Don’t tell me you’re returning to calling me Lord Seymour. I told you to call me Lore.”

“And do others at the estate call you by name?”

“The older children sometimes do,” he replies, shrugging.

In other words, I should not call him by name, otherwise I’ll get a similar response to earlier.

“I think I’ll continue referring to you as Lord or Your Grace, if you don’t mind.”

Lore sighs as he leans against the doorway. “What a pity. I had hoped being on a first name basis would help lessen the tension of our working relationship, but if that’s what you want, so be it.”

Lore retreats to the hallway. With his hand on the doorknob, he says, “I advise you to get your rest. Tomorrow, I will give you a tour of our lovely city and we’ll begin looking into this concerning case of the Red Moon.”

“Alright. Goodnight, Your Grace.”

He nods and shuts the door. Once his footsteps disappear, I get to unpacking my bag while going over what I have seen today. As heart warming as Seymour Manor appears to be, that does not mean nothing dark lurks beneath the surface. Even the most monstrous of beings can show acts of genuine kindness and love. I’ve seen it before. I’ve seen what can go wrong. I’ve felt how wrong it can go and had to clean up the aftermath.

Lore has surrounded himself by those who adore him, as if they’re a mask disguising the truth. We see what he wants to see; loving children and a man with a heart of gold. Deep down, I do truly hope that’s true. He’s merely a suspect, not necessarily the culprit. If he is earnestly helping these children, then I want him to continue to do so as long as he can, as long as his true nature hasn’t taken hold. The world is in dire need of those willing to do all they can to help others.

However, one cannot be too careful. We cannot trust what we initially see, especially when it comes to vampires. Dhampir often don’t fall too far from the tree either. They’re creatures of darkness and deceit. They thrive off chaos and lies, prone to violence and eager to shed blood; our blood specifically. Nectar, as vampires call it, supplies an intoxicating taste that also enhances their strength. Although, it can be addictive when not taken carefully, which they always fail to do eventually. Even after centuries since the Gateway tore through our sky and vampires came to Earth, we’ve yet to be able to live harmoniously. They steal lives like thieves steal coins and feel no remorse. On top of all that, they’re intelligent enough to hide their true intentions, to make others believe them to be righteous and caring until the time comes that they rip out your throat.