Seren P.O.V.

I recognize the nightmare I’m in for it’s one I’ve had a thousand times. The only change is me; once a boy and now a man standing alone among the fields. Back then, the crops covered my head. Now they reach my waist. I can see it all happen.

Across the field sits a small house. My house. I no longer remember if the color is right. Was it always red or was it brown? Was Papa always that short? Was his hair peppered gray? Did my brother, Saul, smile like that or was it more crooked? It’s been so long since I’ve seen their faces that they become warped, but their deaths never do. They’re always bloody and terrifying and…

I practically throw myself out of bed before the nightmare truly begins, heaving giant breaths that do little to ease my racing heart. The nightmare fades as I take in my surroundings, though where I am could also be considered a nightmare.

Groaning, I push myself out of bed. Seems, even here, I wake before sunrise. That’s not surprising, I’ve been doing that for over a decade. Training required waking up at dawn and working until well after nightfall. The routine has never quite left me.

The mansion sleeps based on the eerily quiet halls. A few lights illuminate one side of the mansion, which I presume is where the children sleep. I steer clear of their rooms and take to the stairs down to the first floor. There’s no sighting or sound of another being awake.

As tempting as it is to snoop, I really should wait. The last thing I need is for one of the kids or workers to find me sticking my nose into something I shouldn’t, further proving that they should dislike me. For now, I go about my usual morning routine.

The sun is about to rise when I perform my stretches in front of the manor. The first thing I notice are the cars; one is parked slightly to the right compared to yesterday. Did someone leave last night? Then, I run the perimeter, ensuring to take in whatever the estate has to offer. The only object of interest is the slightly broken down cathedral with boarded windows now.

Considering what Cyan said yesterday, he must use the cathedral to study divinity. Other than that, there’s nothing out of the ordinary from first glance, which is to be expected. Still, I had hoped to find a lever hidden among the trees or a trap door by the music room. Not only would it be useful, but also incredibly hilarious. Just once, I’d like to find the cheesy villain lair.

After my run, I step inside to find Lore descending the stairs, long hair draped over his shoulders. He wears a navy robe that shows too much of his chest; the curves to his well toned stomach and the teasing glance of a V line. His pale thigh peeks far too sensually through the slit of his robe when descending the stairs.

I swallow hard and look away just as he adjusts his robe. Possibly to hide a faint scar across his abdomen. That must be new if it has yet to fully heal; what could it be from? The sight also reminds me of my own; the ones visible on my arms that lay bare for all to see. I should have worn my robes on the run. It’s not as if I haven’t done it before, but it’s warmer here than in the capital. I had to take extra breaks to catch my breath.

“Good morning,” Lore says at the bottom of the stairs, finally concealing himself by tightening the robe around his waist. His hand rests elegantly against the banister as he stands tall like a perfectly molded stature in a grand art institute. “I hope you didn’t wake for an early run because you had an uncomfortable rest. If that’s the case, we can find you another room.”

“No, I slept wonderfully.” Which isn’t exactly true. The bed is so soft that I was almost frightened that I’d fall right through it. I’m more accustomed to sleeping on grassy ground while on the roads.

“Many seraphics such as myself are creatures of habit. We wake before dawn and a good run leaves me feeling invigorated. I didn’t happen to wake you, did I?” I ask.

“You did, actually.” He struts by me in the direction of the dinning hall while flicking his fingers, instructing me to follow. “My hearing, you see. I’m not accustomed to anyone taking a run in the morning, but it won’t be a problem now that I know it’s you.”

“Sorry, the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind.” I throw a look over my shoulder towards the stairs. “I didn’t wake the children, did I?”

Lore snorts. “You don’t need to worry about that. Even Cyan’s experiments gone wrong can’t wake those rocks.”

I chuckle and earn an elegantly raised brow from Lore followed by, “So he can laugh.”

“Like you said, everyone has a sense of humor.”

Lore hums before opening a door leading to the kitchen. Two cooks must have just arrived because they’re putting aprons on. Both offer a smile and inform us that breakfast will be done soon.

“We’re only here to get a drink,” Lore explains. He opens a cupboard filled with glasses and grabs one for himself. I get a glass too and chug some water to quench my parched throat. Lore fills a pitcher to take with us back to the dining room.

“If I may make a suggestion,” he says after taking a seat. He points towards the many scars on my arm. “If speaking of those troubles you, you better change back into your robes. We do our best to teach the children not to ask uncomfortable questions, but… kids are kids. They’re curious.”

“Thanks for the warning. I’ll go do that.”

But Lore’s warning came too late. When I reach the top of the stairs, I come face to face with Ashby and Angel. They rub their tired eyes in unison, then Ashby gapes at me while Angel asks, “Where’d you get those scars, Mister?”

Ashby elbows her and hisses, “Papa said we shouldn’t ask inv… inventory questions.”

I bite the insides of my cheek to keep back a laugh. I’m guessing he meant invasive questions.

“Ah, well, I already asked.” Angel shrugs, then somehow worsens the situation by adding, “Since you’re one of those paly-things, you probably got them fighting dhampir like us, huh?”

My blood runs cold and hands clench into fists. How am I meant to explain to them that the innocence they have today will not follow them to tomorrow? A day will come when the bloodlust takes over. They’ll harm and brutally murder even those they were close to and paladins like me will be the ones to cut them down. I can’t say that. I shouldn’t and I won’t.

Ashby throws his hands over his mouth in horror. His terrified voice becomes muffled when he squeaks, “M-Mister kills dh-dhampir! You’re scary!”

“I… you don’t…” The words lodge in my throat. They taste rotten.

Angel points accusingly at me and declares, “If you try to hurt us, Papa will kick your ass.”

“We a-aren’t supposed to curse either,” Ashby mumbles, but his sister ignores him.

“I’ll fight you too,” she says and actually punches me in the knee, which does hurt. Dhampir share their unnatural strength with vampires. Even a child’s punch could potentially knock a grown man out if they’re determined or trained well enough.

“I’m not here to hurt any of you,” I say, trying to ignore the memories of the dhampir and vampires I have slain. The ones who I’ve chased or chased me through fields, woods, and city streets. Fangs, claws, and traits that could topple buildings or slaughter an entire city block.

Kneeling in front of them, I take a chance to rest a hand on each of their shoulders. Ashby freezes like his soul has vacated his body while Angel stares me down and keeps her fists up. I offer them a smile that I hope puts them at ease and say, “I’m here to help your Papa look for bad people in town--”

“Those bad people being those like us, most likely,” Darika chimes in. She appears from the closest bedroom to the stairs. She approaches swiftly to ease the children away from me and proves that, even while being protective, siblings are still assholes by adding, “So you two better be careful. If you do something bad, the paladin here may ship you off to the church where they’ll squish your eyes into jelly beans and eat your toes like nuggets. Ahhhh!” Darika screams causing Ashby to cry out in terror and burst into a fearful run.

“Papa!” echoes vehemently behind him, followed by Angel’s hurried steps to either escape me or make sure her brother doesn’t pass out on the way to the dining hall. I gape at Darika, who winks at me like she didn’t just mentally scar two of the children.

“Darika, stop scaring your brother!” Lore’s voice calls from the dining room. Darika snickers and walks away, leaving me shocked and speechless at the top of the stairs.

I… do not completely comprehend what just happened. I was asked about my scars that were very swiftly set aside when Darika decided to make the children go from hating to being terrified of me. This job was not meant to entail earning the children’s trust, but, at this rate, they may be more dangerous than anyone else!