“Are you sure that it was wise to let the Vampire Council know, Fitz-y?” He grinned wide and stared manically at the butler with his bright green eyes before pushing his dark brown hair back.

Mr. Fitz sighed – gazing into those green eyes – how they reminded him of someone else. The wind made his unkempt dark hair increasingly wild. The rooftop terrace of the Mansion had quite a view, though the strong wind made it an uncomfortable view. 

“I know that it brought you here, and who better to tell if it is actually him than you?” The butler remarked with a slight smile. 

He chuckled loudly, “That’s your logic? I’m a puppy, how do you think I would know if it’s like you said, a vampire skull?”

Mr. Fitz adjusted his tattered coat, “A puppy? You? Wren, you are brothers. You shared a womb, if anyone will know, it is you.”  

He chuckled maniacally, “Why do you have to put it like that? It sounds so— so icky… Well, I have to investigate the skull either way now.” 

“What are you going to do if it is him? Will you obey the Council?” Mr. Fitz asked Wren. 

“He is dangerous. If it is him, which I doubt, then I will bring the skull back to the Council,” Wren grinned wide before turning to look up at the night sky. 

Mr. Fitz let out another sigh, “Let’s see what you come up with. Though I always do wish things could have taken a different turn. Perhaps I’m looking back too much. I’m at the end of my life, but I miss the times when this place was full of life,” Mr Fitz lamented and his eyes glistened ever so slightly. 

“This is why it’s the end of your life. You look back too much, old man. Your whole life before the Cataclysm was centered around one fudging person. Maybe it still is,” Wren said with an offbeat chuckle. 

Mr. Fitz shrugged and leaned on the broken railing, “I will admit that I look back too much. I owe my life to that person, I would not be here if not for him… Yet, what happened… I- I am afraid like everyone else. If he comes back again. It will set off a different kind of cataclysm.”

Wren grinned even wider, “Which is why it’s safer to be sorry than better. Wait? It’s better to be sorry than safe? No…” He stopped and giggled for a long moment, “You know what I mean. I don’t ever want him to come back. Even if he could. Even if he is my brother.” 

Wren’s grin turned into a frown, he scowled out at the city before glancing down at his hands. What was real anymore? Wren couldn’t quite tell, he had been going in and out of slumber for so many years now. Sometimes he wasn’t exactly sure what decade it was. He had lost almost everything that day, the day of the Cataclysm. He remembered it all too well— no matter how much he wanted to forget – everyone liked to remind him as well. They would constantly remind him of who his brother was, and that he too might deserve the same fate. 

Wren swiftly forced himself to smile as wide as he could, a strange uncanny smile. Nothing mattered more than serving the Vampire Council, right? If he could serve them well then he would be useful, they would keep him around. He took a small knife out of his pocket and twirled it between his fingers. It brought him a sense of comfort— the feeling of the steel, the sensation of the coolness between his fingers. 

Mr. Fitz broke the silence, “We all face the loneliness, it seems to be the fate of every vampire at a certain point…No matter how much we try to stay together, every one of us are somehow alone in our eternity.” He glanced out at the city once more, the night was never dark in Dawn, “I would love to stay and chat, but I have to go see my masters now. They need to know as well,” Mr. Fitz remarked as he gave a small bow to Wren.

Wren glanced at him, raising an eyebrow as he did, “Masters… Sounds annoying… Leon and Juliette are such… such Valentines… I have to go investigate this skull anyway. See you around, Fitz-y. If not, enjoy your eternity,” Wren said melodically before chuckling again while he jumped off the rooftop terrace.  

Mr. Fitz was not sure if he had done the right thing in calling the Vampire Council, but he was worried. He knew his masters would not be as worried, why would they? They had not seen what he had seen, they were younger, much younger. Wren might have been a bit of a maniac, but Mr. Fitz knew that he did care deeply for his brother before everything happened. Most of all Mr. Fitz wished for the skull to simply be a skull and nothing else.