Chapter 3: Vampyre Angel

:Different.
She looked around at the other chyldren. She felt them. Mind touched them. She watched them as they crawled around, unaware of the power they held, the power she already knew how to use. Knew things they did not know. She did not understand what was happening.
:I am but a chylde.
She thought, had many thoughts. Words had failed her. Nothing escaped her mouth. She did not understand.
:This is not Utopia. It cannot be.
She looked around at the babies around her, pink skin, flushed. She looked down at herself, pale, pale white. White as the marble statues that lined the grand hall, white as ivory. White as death. She frowned slightly, trying to understand why she felt so different. There were no mirrors to the room, she was unable to see herself.
:Why am I so different? What am I?
So deep in thought, she did not notice the shadow tower over her until it was too late. She was being picked up.
:Mother.
"My darling Rowan!" A sweet comforting voice drifted around her. She calmed, loosing all unease felt moments before. "How is my beloved chylde?"
She could not speak, only answer in vivna, baby talk. Her mother only smiled and kissed her on the forehead.
"Aye, my love. You will grow up soon. You will be able to speak soon enough, my dear."

"Mother."
"Yes, my love?"
"I have often wondered...why chyldren, everyone, even yourself are so different from myself."
"Everyone is different, my chylde."
"Nay mother...look." She pointed to various citizens around her. "They all bear golden locks, lovely green eyes and soft white wings, mother. I, with hair of ebony, skin of ivory, lips of blood, eyes of silver, am not to belong here. I am like a dragon in the mists of phoenixes."
"Do not worry, my love." A worried look crossed her face. "There...you are one...it is not completely uncommon. But it is rare."
She looked up at her mother, Queen Cynara, not quite disbelieving, yet she had her doubts. "Aye mother. I shall not."

:Fangs? I have fangs?
She looked into her mirror, not quite recognizing herself. Fangs grew, like those of the animals they kept, but hers were longer, ivory colored and almost elegant, were they not so deadly in appearance.
:I am...vampyre?
She looked horrifacally into the mirror once again. A fear stricken face loked back at her. She knewshe was different, but not that different. The rational part of her mind was not surprised. She knew she was not angel, maybe half, but not full. Angels were not born of the dark light, like her. The gods smiled upon the angels, born of light.
:I am vampyre.
She nodded. Firmly, believing, understanding.
:But now?

She thirsted. Thirsted for something she knew not how to get. Thirsted for energy. It was all around her, everywhere. Its silent music rang through her mind. She began crying, tears spilt down her cheek, staining the marble floor.
"Mother, mother. I hurt!"
She cried, closer to despair. Her mother came.
"My love, my chylde, what is the matter!" She rushed forward, cradling her daughter in her arms. "Shh...shh...I am here, my love."
"I thirst."
Her mother stiffened slighty, but embraced her daughter to her breasts.
"Thirst, my love?"
"Aye, mother. For...for life-force." She sobbed, burying her face closer to her mother's heart, unable to stifle the tears that came, the pain.
At that, her mother began crying as well. "My love, my love. I am...sorry, my love. I should have told you sooner."
She looked up at her mother, teary eyed and confused.
"Tell me what, mother?"
"About your father."
"I am vampyre, mother." She opened her mouth, slowly extending her fangs, long, white and deadly. "I thirst, mother."
Her mother shook her head.
"I know not what to do, my love. Your father...he will know."
She nodded, understanding: she was to leave her mother.