Granddaughter,
I hope this letter finds you well, though I fear it does not. I write to you because I felt your sorrow today, though when this letter reaches you, I suppose it will have been yesterday.
It has been so long since you have felt deeply enough for it to trigger my empathy from so many miles away, and then I realized what day it must be. My dear, it has been centuries since my son passed. And if Francis was alive to see you today, he would be so proud of the strong, independent woman you have become in his absence; but your deep well of sadness? Well, that would be enough to kill him all over again. He would want you to be happy, my darling, as I want you to be happy. Whoever this gentleman may be, he doesn’t know how lucky he is to have you. Don’t be so pained by the opportunity to find love again, you deserve all of the happiness this world has to offer.
Scotland is so beautiful this time of year, you should visit me. Even though I have no plans of dying anytime soon, you know that my seat on the Council will belong to you some day, it would do you some good to meet the other elders. Either way, don’t hesitate to write me back, you know how much I hate those blasted phones.
With all my love,
FridaBéatrix folded the parchment carefully, inhaling the scent of her grandsire as it wafted from the page. It had been a long time since she had seen the ancient Scandinavian beauty. Frida was the oldest vampire she knew, a daughter of Cain himself, and she held a coveted seat on the vampiric Council - coveted by all vampires but Béatrix, that is. The last thing she wanted to do was deal with vampire politics alongside all of the crusty ancients. Francis never wanted that seat either but alas, Francis was Frida’s favored childe, and Trixy was his, so the responsibility would fall to her… someday.
Trixy closed her eyes and exhaled deeply. The letter couldn’t have come at a better or worse time, but that was the way things were with an empath. Just like Trixy’s special power is that she can hear and change the thoughts of those around her, Frida can feel and change the emotions of those around her, but if it is a blood relation like Béatrix, she can feel them from half a world away. If only Freda knew what the ‘gentleman’ was - a member of the mongrel race that killed their Francis - maybe then she wouldn’t speak so fondly of him.
Thoughts swam in Trixy’s brain as she held her face in her hands. All of this drama and fanfare, and she still hadn’t done her
job. There was still a rogue vampire on the streets, murdering innocent women in the night, and Béatrix was moping in her apartment about some name on her wrist? No, this simply would not do. If she had any hope for gaining redemption for her past transgression, it would start by trying to be a bigger person.
Villains don’t get happy endings, but heroes do…That being said, Trixy pulled out her smartphone and flicked her finger to the most recent contact. Solenne.
“Veuillez pardonner mes actions.” The text began in her native French. “I didn’t ever expect your words to cut me, SoSo, but I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did. I would still like any information on that rogue, if you have it.” It was the closest Beatrix could come to an apology, and for the second time in one day, surely it was a sign of change – or maybe just the end of times.
FallenTrinity
Dion