Hey hey, this is more of a prologe then anything else, don't be mean, REVIEW ME!!!! I'm a first timer at this so show me some love peeps 3
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A little boy sat quietly on the end of his bed. The black of night only made his raven colored hair even brighter. The full moon floated outside of his window, illuminating the deep cut mountains and lakes surrounding the centuries old, Romanian castle. He slipped off of the silken sheets, landing with a unheard thud, and silently walked over to the window to watch what he couldn't touch. Being grounded for saying hi to the human boys didn't seem fair. Hadn't he been one of them once?
He slowly turned to wait for his mothers return. He pulled his body up onto the stone windowsill so that he was facing the door. His fingers wound their way around his deep purple sash that proclaimed him to be the prince and sighed. The moonlight was hitting him squarely on the shoulders as he looked down. He stared at the brilliant white patch of moonlight on the floor, shining perfectly untouched, as if he wasn't there. For as long as he had become a half vampire, his shadow had begun to fade until it was reduced to nothing. Whenever he stood in front of any type of light, it would seem to just pass through him. He sighed delicately and looked down at the shimmering white at his feet. That was when he noticed the wavering black light that was connected to his foot.
It reminded him of his own eyes. It was black, but with a glowing, almost purple light surrounding it. It was running right from his foot to out under the door. He wondered whether it should have been there or not, so he let the sash fall from his fingers and bent down to touch it.
It didn't look completely solid to him. It looked more like a black and purple mist than a string. He reluctantly wrapped his small fingers around the thing and tugged hard against it.
Then he screamed.
He felt the mist like string suddenly throb against his fingers and he felt it pull against his leg, up his side, and squeeze his heart. Then everything swayed before his eyes and he tilted backwards, wind rushing against his pale skin as he plummeted 18 stories to the ground.
He opened his eyes to a gray, foggy, nothingness. Everything was a uniform, chalky black color that didn't change no matter where you looked. The only way he could tell he was standing on the ground and not floating was the tick layer of fog that floated around his knees. He looked down to see if he still had his feet as most six year olds would, and recoiled from the black and purple string that was still there.
He backed away from it, but still, it stayed firmly on his foot. Then he realized that the feeling of his heart being squeezed was still there, and the father he tried to move from the string, the worse it would become. So he stopped, and started to follow it.
The fog became lighter the farther ahead he traveled, and the pain in his heart lessened. Fear of the unknown took it's place. His hair started to fall out of it's original ponytail, so he pulled out the black ribbon and let it fall back around his shoulders. His new black leather boots, which usually squeaked on the castle's stone floor, were silent as he trudged forward. The crisp, white fabric of his riding shirt started to swish slightly as a breeze started to swirl around his feet.
Just up ahead he could see a purple, shivering light. As he approached closer, it took on the outline of a person. When he finally stopped in front of it, he gasped.
It was a girl. Not just any girl, but the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She was pure white, not unlike himself, and had soft brown hair hanging all the way down to here feet which were raised up from the floor where she floated silently. Her eyelids were shut and her face looked gentle in sleep. The little boy moved closer so he could see her better. She was older then him, much older. She was around the age where she could be married and have children already. She could even possibly already be 17 at the most.
He drew his eyes away from her face to see where the purple light had come from. He gasped. The same purple glowing string that was stuck to his foot wound it's way across the floor and circled around her body in one giant coil that moved as if forced along by a strong wind.
He stretched out his fingers to touch the girl when a wooden cane walloped his hand with a ''Smack''.
''What do you think you're doing little boy,'' came a throaty rasp behind him. He turned to see a crooked old man, doubled in half, staring at him with one good eye. He looked almost senile.
''I...'' he replied, startled.
''Doesn't matter. Get,'' he jerked his thumb and headed forward, gray mist swishing around his bony ankles. But then he stopped when the little boy moved and the black string around the girl vibrated and slackened. He grabbed the boy's shoulder and turned him around to face him. He looked down at his foot and spotted where the string started and smiled, ''So she's yours ain't she,'' He barked out a dry laugh and smiled, revealing his many missing teeth. The little boy stared up at him with a glassy, confused look in his eyes, ''She belongs to you...'' the old man's smile faltered as the boy didn't understand, ''She's ya soul mate....''
''I do not even know where I am,'' he looked sheepishly up at him.
''You's a bloody royal,'' he said, finally examining his clothes, ''and ya's just a wee one. I wouldn't expect you to know.'' he brushed his fingers along the fine clothes on the little boy and patted the deep purple sash. ''Which of the royals wear purple?'' It was now the old mans turn to be confused. He looked across the boy, searching for clues when he spotted the black ribbon in his fingers. It gave him and idea. He pushed back the boys hair so that the white skin of his neck was showing. And there, just at the base of his neck where a light blue vain stared, were two small, bite shaped scars, ''bloody hell.'' The old man smiled wider, ''You's a royal of the night,'' he bowed low, the bones in his back creaking, ''It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance.'' He grabbed the boy's chin and forced his mouth open to reveal his pointy eye teeth, ''Don't worry, you'll grow into them.'' The boy was still looking confused as he stared at the old man, then back to the girl.
''Who is that?'' The little boy asked in lilting, sweet voice.
''That, young man, since you's a vampire and all, is more than just your soul mate. That there is your Blood-Soul.'' The boy wrinkled his forehead, ''She literally does belong to you,''he nudged the black string with his foot, ''she ain't like no human soul mate, or a regular vampire soul mate. That there girl is tied to you in such away that you own her, and not the other way around. She's yours. When she's born and you both meet, you'll both fall in love and she'll be yours forever. It's such a sappy thing, I don't even know why I bother. But only when she's done,'' with that he moved off toward the girl and with a flick of his hang she started to spin.
''You mean, she is not alive yet?'' The little boy moved over to look at the pretty face that seemed so familiar to him.
''Of course she ain't alive yet. This is only the rough copy for her,'' he stopped her spinning and with a blue flash of light from his finger, changed the shape of her nose so it wasn't as pointy at the end, ''My job is to make the soul mate, Blood-Soul, then send it out for it to be born. I usually make them in pairs, the man and the women, so that they could be born around the same time, but with this one, I kept wondering why I wasn't supposed to. And here you are, her rightful owner.'' He continued her spinning.
''But when she is born, will I not be to old for her?'' The old man looked down at the little vampire boy and smiled crookedly.
''Aren't you a vampire? Won't you be older than her anyways? You'll stop aging long before she's even born. Around 300 years to be exact,'' he continued to look for any miner flaw in her profile, He flicked his finger upward and her eyes opened. The boy was stunned by her brilliant blue eyes and thought that they looked like two ice blue glass orbs floating deep in her dark, long eyelashes.
''Why will I have to wait so long for her to come?'' He reached out his hand to touch the girl only to have it slapped away again.
''Because. I've only worked on the outside of her. I still have to make the parts that make her work, figure out how her mind functions and how she thinks. I've gotta figure out what she likes and hates. That reminds me,'' he turned to looked at the boy, ''what's you name so I know what her name means in contrast to yours.''
''Xavier...'' he answered quietly. The smile slipped from the old mans face as he stared at him.
''Pity. Well now, you two aren't going to have a very easy time together I'm going to say that,'' he looked back up to the girl, then back to Xavier, ''It's time you got back to your home. You need to forget her so you's not longing for something you doesn't have the rest of your life.'' He set his hand on Xavier's head and closed his eyes. Xavier shouted in protest, not wanting to leave the beautiful girl behind, but slipped back into the darkness either way.
The first sound that he heard was his mother's cries for him to wake up, then his fathers commanding voice for the servants to go fetch the doctor, then he felt his mother's arms cradling his head in her lap. He cracked his eyes open and the light of the moon glittered down to him. He saw the thick folds of his mothers velvet dress, her long, blonde hair hanging well past her shoulders, then his father, tall and strong, his black hair tied back at the nape of his neck, pacing back and forth.
''He's awake!'' His mother screamed out and hugged him tightly to her side, ''What happened to you, my baby!'' She smoothed back his black hair and let her silvery wet tears drip onto his face.
''Son,'' he heard his father breathe in relief, ''how did you get down here?'' he knelt down on the grass beside him and held his hand, ''Your mother went up to fetch you for supper and you were not there. She looked out the wind and found you laying on the ground,'' his voice choked over the words which wasn't fit for the king to do.
''Father,'' the boy reached up and patted his father's beard. ''I was sitting on the windowsill and...I pulled on the string,'' Xavier's face washed over with puzzlement as the memories eluded his mind, ''There was a girl... she was so pretty... then I was here....'' He looked at his mother who was wiping tears from her eyes. He leaned his head up against her shoulder and looked blankly out to the moon, ''Well, I can't really remember a thing.''
''That is fine,'' his father cupped the boy's cheek in his large hands, they were cold, but warmed as they touched his son's face, ''as long as you are safe,it is fine.''
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