Prologue

Is there enough time to tell you what I would like you to know? Is there enough time in this short life of mine to recall all the things which I need you to understand? And, if I do manage to have you hear my thoughts, will you turn your back on me when I am done?

Dear Reader, time is short and life even shorter, the entire vampiric world is clinging helplessly to the very last threads of survival and there is nothing that anybody can do to prevent it. Malvolio is at power and there is only one being who can destroy him. The fate of the vampire's lie solely in the ashen palms of one half-breed…

He was fifteen when he came to me, eyes sparkling emeralds and hair midnight ruffles. One of three brothers, he was different to the other two. He was short as they were tall, broad shouldered as they were frail and dark haired whereas they were both fair. His skin however was pale, as pale as the moonlight cast over the night sky, bloodless and clear. This similarity in ashen skin was the only one which he shared with his siblings and one which made the three of them unmistakable to any onlookers experienced orbs.

Malovolio of the Higher Order was head of the Vampiric Empire at the time, a powerful man, a direct descendant of the first line of vampires. Malvolio, being of pure vampiric heritage had beliefs stronger and more potent than those of regular vampires. He believed that vampirism should stay within the blood line, any mortals brought into the order by any means were to be slaughtered and the introducer condemned to torture.

The unexpected happened when two young adolescents, the boy a vampire and the girl a mortal found themselves wrapped in one another's arms and with word of being with child. The news spread fast and soon Malvolio had his army searching for the two lovers.

The youngsters, frightened and very much in love, went into hiding. They were taken in by an old vampire, an ancient fellow whom the boy knew well. He welcomed them for a time, but soon the army drew closer, a nearby town was destroyed in the search for the betrayers and the children fled once more.

But the end was one of misery. The boy was caught and taken back to the Empire where Malvolio sentenced him to death; the girl however, escaped the army. She seeked refuge amongst the poor and sick in a hostel and there she gave birth to three young boys. But unfortunately life ended for her there, as she became sick with disease and soon all the life faded from her.

Years passed and the whispers of the two unsuitable lovers died down into silence. The boy was dead and the girl believed to be also. Yet nobody's thoughts ever seemed to wander toward the three children conceived and born of half-blood. That was, until Martagnor turned up at my door that frosty morning in September.