My mother did this for us. She did not turn. She called upon the sun for life and the ancient white oak tree, one of nature’s eternal objects, for immortality. That night, my father offered us wine laced with blood. And then he drove his sword through our hearts. We had to drink more blood to complete the ritual. The feeling of power was indescribable. The spirits turned on us, and nature fought back. For every strength, there would be a weakness. The sun became our enemy. It kept us indoors for weeks. And then, my mother found a solution. There were other problems. Flowers at the base of the white oak burned and prevented compulsion. And the spell decreed that the tree that gave us life could also take it away, But the darkest consequence was something my parents never anticipated … the hunger. Blood had made us reborn, and it was blood that we craved above all else.
“We stick together as one. Always and forever.”
Last edited by Lady Autumn on Fri 04 Nov 2011, 7:25 pm; edited 1 time in total
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