| Twelve |

"Adversity makes men, and prosperity makes monsters."

- Victor Hugo

Song : Fight Song by Rachel Pattern

•••

January 1, 1949

The echoed hallways of the palace cellars brought shivers to Draven's bones. He dreaded this place since he was young and always complained on the urine smell and the disgusting aroma in the air of this place. Only the worst criminals would be sent here. But there weren't many. Most of the people down here are either dead, by now, left to rot, or are lunatics getting crazier by the minute.

Draven's mind had nearly gone crazier when he watched as the sister he mistreated for years attacked his father. It was horrifying to watch the most terrible of things happen to her. He remembered for many years being the favorite of his mother. The lovely Odette Gillepsi. A kind and loving mother who made him the apprentice of a locksmith. He chuckled at the memory.

Why did he hate Snow? Was it because she was oh so special? Or maybe something just made him hate her. After all he is an Eris. The most powerful dark immortal species ever known to the world. Feared by many. Which is ironic because he feeds off fear.

The question of why he hated Snow was always a mystery to him. But soon it came to him that maybe he hated that she always got the attention from everyone. In the immortal culture children born in the higher classes such as nobles and royalty are raised differently depending on your gender.

Theta and Halo children would be encouraged to continue their parent's career. And Omegas would be raised with a choice. Noble and royal boys were taught to lead battles and the knowledge that they might be Alpha or King someday. And girls would be taught their only job was to marry for advantage. Either a prince or noble, if not, the strongest theta in the land.

It was rare for a royal to marry an Omega but it was possible. Alpha Edmund Kahlen married his human blood singer who knew nothing of immortals.

Draven looked back at his happy times with his mother fondly. Even if she wasn't married to any of the Alphas, she knew just how to raise her sons. The Alphas were always away in the places in their part of the kingdoms whether it was Evail, Voluterra, or The Moors. The main palace was in Novachek, Scarlet, the center of the Scarlet Empire.

While most royal parents choose nannies or governesses to raise their children, his mother Odette choose to raise them herself. They weren't called by their titles or "Your highness". They always cleaned up, made their beds, and dressed normally. They bathed and dressed themselves and always did all their chores. It's not that the other royal families didn't care for their children, all higher class parents rarely had time to spend with their children.

Draven chuckled at the memories of his mother trying to encourage "worldliness". She wanted them to know what it's like outside the royal lifestyle, so she hired locals to make him and his brothers apprentices. Draven was an apprentice locksmith. That's how he learned how to pick any lock imaginable.

Mother helped him and the others find their passions. His older brother Foxclove became an exquisite ballet dancer. Lovecraft started his love for cooking and always cooked at the homeless shelters and orphanages. Archangel loved his books, and was tutored by William Shakespeare himself. Zephyr began his passion for meditation and philosophy. He was the oldest after all.

Mother was the perfect Luna and Queen. She was kind, wise, beautiful, and generous. The kingdom loved her. When she was killed by rogues, all hell broke loose. Since his father and step fathers were all busy with their duties, him and his brothers decided to raise Snow. They didn't want a governess to be her caregiver. He smiled sadly as he had flashbacks of when Snow was a young little girl.

Ryland didn't want her to grow up thinking her only purpose to marry for advantage.

"Our sister will live life the way she wants too. Married or not. Proper lady or not."

Draven and Foxclove once took her to the town to see if she was interested in any apprenticeship. While most princesses would choose the clothing designer or cook, Snow wanted to be a blacksmith. Aaron D'Este was delighted to teach her. She designed weapons for the armies when she was only nine human years. They hired many spirits to tutor her like William Shakespeare for English, Plato for philosophy, and eventually Queen Elizabeth 1 in politics.

Her interest in weaponry started on her tenth birthday, she was three human years. Ryland came home from hunting and his father and step fathers were coming home for a family picnic. He put his sword down on the table and Mother scolded him. Then tiny little Snow came waddling up and asked if she could learn.

When she asked mother again in front of that stupid Duke Bentley, he told her that she was a lady and should be interested in lady things. Most of the elders and nobles still lived in the mindset that men overruled women.

But to Mother Snow would live a free life.

Soon Draven approaches a dark and deep cell blocked off by guards. The cell door was completely covered in chemicals and there was only a tiny slot to look inside.

"I would like to see my sister." He said.

The guard was Eikko Mexico again. And another man, a new Theta named Maddox Davis.

"Your Highness I would suggest not. As much as the kingdom loves her highness, the last time someone went near her she-"

Eikko put his head down in grief and shame. Draven and his brothers remembered watching Snow sprout beautiful, but terrifying wings from her back and fly off. When they found her shaking it the middle of the Forrest, her eyes darkened and turned into a horrifying ebony black to match the streaks in her hair.

Tears fell from Draven eyes as he remembered Snow leaping at the Alphas. Long metallic claws extracted from her delicate Snow White skin and fangs bursted from her mouth. All you could see are Caius Illea, Dominic Bellmonte, and Lucius Lux-Tenebris with blood all over them.

Dead.

One could choose to hate Snow but it wasn't her. Rebekah told him that Snow's darker goddess was locked away for so long it had to take that chance to take over her body.

"Move Eikko," Draven's face hard with grief.

"I want to see my sister."

Sighing in defeat, Eikko unlocked the door and only said these words.

"Good luck."

Walking in the cellar a stench of urine and mold filled his nose. The cell was dark and slightly flooded. Blocked from all light. Draven didn't mind the darkness. Eris can shift through the shadows.

"Snow? Are you in there?"

All of a sudden Draven was thrown backwards into the wall. Hearing a terrifying screech Draven turned to see a screaming Snow. Silver chains covered her waist, wrists, and legs. A large metal ball prevented her from moving far. An iron mask covered her face so all you could see are her eyes. Pitch Black and scary.

She was down on all fours and walking and sniffing.

Approaching her gently Draven tried to talk to her.

"Snow? It's me Draven. I'm sorry I treated you the way I did. You're all I have left of mother. I'm sorry."

He began to break down and reached out to hug her. For a brief millisecond you could see Snow's eyes change to a dark grey and then she hissed and moved away.

Draven felt like he was going to die.

•

"We need to help her!!!"

Draven's voice rang through throne room of the palace. Snow's submission to her darkness took a toll on everyone. But the worst part was loosing the Alphas. Although the thirteen brothers didn't have a very deep bond with their fathers as they wanted, it was terrible to know how they died.

Ryland believed it was hopeless to save Snow. He also blamed himself everyday. He would have nightmares and wake up knowing they were true. Nothing could stop him from the nightmares that haunted his mind day and night.

Draven didn't give up. He knew Snow could come back. Although there was never a submitted immortal that recovered in history, Snow is strong. She can make it. She will be the first.

"We can save her. I know we can."

Draven reassured everyone that Snow would make it. Snow was all he could think about. Memories always came to him about the way he began to treat her. Guilt washed over him like a flood.

"Nobody has ever submitted and recovered, Draven!" Steele shouted.

Draven looked down in tears. His brothers lost all hope. How could they do this?! They loved Snow just as much as he did, she was the image of their beloved mother. Odette, who left all too soon. A woman who had everything right before her!

Then all of a sudden the door burst open! Rebekah was right their, out of breath, and shaking. In her right arm she held some papers that were falling to the floor.

"Doctor Rebekah, what must you share with us that is so urgent, you burst her uninvited!" Orias said.

Rebekah smiled. "I think I know what could help her."

The thirteen brother's ears perked up. The woman had clearly gotten their attention. They would do anything to help their sister.

"Show us what you have, Rebekah."

Rebekah sat down by the desk and put the papers down on the floor.

"Leading healers in the field of psychology believe that using people with a similar condition to Snow might help her and the others."

Draven shook his head. What was the woman suggesting? Have demons or the submitted help Snow? How could they help her? They were terrible people locked up for a reason.

"Who exactly did you have in mind?" Jedidiah asked.

Rebekah smirked a playful smirk. She then opened a large folder. Inside pictures in black and white spread out against the table.

"I went to the cells in Summer."

Draven knew where Summer was. It was a more advanced version of Hell. When junias or humans die, depending on their actions they will go to Heaven or Hell depending on how good or bad. But those who do enough good have three choices, to either go to Earth to guide the living, go to Heaven to live with loved ones, or choose an immortal life as a citizen of Nevaeh, an immortal country. In Summer, citizens there are placed in cells depending on how terrible their deeds are.

Unlike people in Hell, in Summer handcuffs are placed on the citizens hand, that electrocute them for every bad deed they do. They come off once the demon shows that they have changed and then an aura seer checks them. The worst of worst are in the deepest cells. Most work it off in community service or doing the opposite of the things they did. So if you took lives, you save lives. Then once the demon changed, they can either live in Nevaeh or Heaven with loved ones, live on Earth to guide the living, or live in Summer as an official citizen.

Rebekah must have found people she thought could help Snow. Draven thought that the wicked souls weren't capable of helping, but that was just his opinion.

Rebekah began listing the candidates.

"Elizabeth Bathory, a female serial killer."

Draven shivered at her name. He knew of her deeds. The things she's done.

"Ivan the Terrible, the tsar of Russia."

"Caligula and Nero, emperors of Rome."

"Vlad the Impaler, inspiration of Dracula."

Draven had enough! These people were the worst of the worst! They will hurt her! Draven couldn't believe what Rebekah was asking! She wanted them to release the worst of the worst to poison the mind of Snow. He didn't understand that these people could help her.

"I believe that if they are offered a reward, these people can help her highness and themselves through feeling if they are just given the chance."

Draven snapped.

"Like hell, I'll give those psychos a chance!" Draven shouted slamming his fist on the desk so hard, it snapped in half. When the desk collapsed, another photo fell to the ground. A man in a black hat with sideburns was in the photo.

"I forgot to mention the star of this treatment, Jack the Ripper."

Draven exploded. "I will not let that murderous, digesting, serial killer near Snow!"

Archangel placed a hand on Draven's shoulder.

"I think this could work, brother. We all love her. This might be her only hope." Said Archangel.

Draven looked as his brother. They all looked back at him in anticipation.

Draven sighed in defeat. This better work, he thought.

"Do it." He gritted under his teeth.

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