[emeryfrost]

Rosemary || Part Three “To See The Future”

Rosemary watched as Emery fell deep into the coma, her bare limbs tangled within his. As dawn made its appearance outside, Rosemary could feel a definite and commanding shift within her, starting at the pit of her stomach and reverberating through her lungs, her ribs, and escaping in hoarse breathes from her throat. Her magic vibrated alongside this feeling, a familiar darkness that was both unsettling and riveting at the same time, something that fueled her gifts in conflicting ways. 

She would not wait another day to explore that emotion. No, today would be the day.

Slipping from Emery’s grasp, Rosemary dressed herself and washed her face in the basin. Instead of heading downstairs, she climbed the spiral steps leading to the tower at the very top of the house. Closing the door behind her, she settled by the window where several candles lined the ledge. Outside, the sun hid behind heavy gray clouds, overcast from the mountains and offering a mugginess that was sticky with the becoming heat. She felt a bead of sweat run down her face, and matched it with a long and exasperated sigh. From the window she could see Night Haven beginning to come alive. 

Never worried about Emery poking around the tower, Rosemary stashed her books and other witchy belongings there to keep them out of the way. A cauldron rested in the corner, hardly used, and a chest full of her new collections of tomes and important items needed for spells sat besides it. Having lost all of her belongings when she perished in the Viking Battle, Rosemary had spent the last several months since her return creating a new collection. With help from Takeshi and other witches in hiding in both Night Haven and Brailston, Rosemary was happy with what she had thus far. 

Unlocking the chest, Rose pulled out several books and set them aside, searching for one piece of parchment in particular. She had hid it at the very bottom, fearful that Emery would see it and scold her for having such a thing, or worse, that Takeshi would find out that she had stolen it from his Book of Shadows.

Finally she held the piece of the book in her hands, and the darker elements inside of her that writhed with wanted attention seemed to settle, as if reacting to the page itself. For months Rose had wanted to perform the spell on the parchment yet she lacked the ingredients to do so. Obtaining what was needed proved to be more difficult than she imagined, considering she could not ask Takeshi for help. When Emery would travel to Monir, she often went with him to Brailston and stayed there, shopping the markets and waiting on him to finish his business at The Serpent’s Pass. 

But now, she had everything she needed. 

With a piece of white chalk, Rosemary drew a pentagram on the floor of the small tower. She lit nearly two dozen candles, scattering them around the room and at each corner of the star. 

It wasn't a difficult seance but Rosemary needed a certain element of the Book of Shadows in order to communicate with the dead specifically; if she contacted the wrong spirit she would find herself disturbing the peace in some way, and that was something that she did not want. Rosemary believed that some souls should stay at rest, she knew what it was like to be in the arms of death and purgatory, and if she were in their shoes she would want to be left alone. She had to contact the spirit without disturbing the others around her for she knew that within Night Haven, ghosts trembled along the muddy streets... especially those from the Viking Battle fifty years prior.

From the trunk, Rosemary gathered more supplies that consisted of mostly dried herbs from a week before along with some soil that she put inside of a small vile. This soil was from Lyra's grave. While she had attended her affairs at the house in the Countryside, Rosemary had done some snooping of her own while Anne slumbered and the children rested their eyes. Rosemary had gone through the old trunk that Blaise had left behind. It was there that she found the soil and attached to it was a small piece of parchment with simple letters scribbled it across the faded paper; Lyra. And rosemary knew that this soil was somehow special, but why had Blaise left it behind? She was not sure and she knew that the only way she would get answers was to contact her daughter. If Lyra’s spirit remained on this plane of theirs then Rosemary would be able to connect with her in some way....somehow she would be able to speak with her daughter again. 

Sitting on her knees in the middle of the pentagram, Rosemary placed the spell in front of her. Although she had not found a wand yet she felt as though she could perform the spell with just her hands and some concentration. It would be more challenging but she was up for it. Rosemary closed her eyes and channeled the energy around her, focusing on the softness of the breeze that blew through the open tower window. With the dark outside and the grey atmosphere closing in around the city of Night Haven,Rosemary felt very peaceful. There were parts of purgatory that she would rather not remember, but the selected quietness on some special nights were all she longed for at times. It was such a rare thing in that plane of the universe and Rosemary cherished the delicateness that dawn was bringing to her town. 

Rosemary held out her hands above the spell, continuing to channel all of her energy into the words printed on the paper. She mumbled them under her breath in a slow mantra, conjuring her magic from the very pits of her stomach to excrete through her hands. At the tips of her fingers, her flesh began to glow a mysterious white, barely beige and flashing with an eerie softness that was both hypnotizing and scary. The ball of light wrapped itself around her fingers like a snake to coil down her wrist and trace each line inside of her palm. Again, Rosemary chanted the next line of the spell and repeated this process until all of the words have been spoken.

By now, the light had enveloped her entire body like a string wrapped around her limbs. Now, she picked up the vial containing the soil from Lyra's grave and poured it in a circle around where she sat. Closing her eyes once more, Rosemary attended to the spell one last time until finally, at the end, she pronounced her daughter's name out loud in a strict and important gesture, as if to grab her attention from the other world.

The wind blew through the window flickering the candles, the balls of lights whipping around Rosemary’s body reacting in unison. Within her, she could feel the dark magic of the other world pulling at her, and it was somewhat comforting and familiar from purgatory. From outside, a black and grey smoke began to plume from the tower window. It was barely there yet it was pungent and it crept along the floor around the pentagram, fusing with each line and sinking deep into it to disappear completely. 

Rosemary continue to chant Lyra’s name and her arms raised as she did so. When she did this, the grey smoke from each line of the pentagram raised with her, covering Rosemary in a suffocating, harmless array of smoke. Finally, Rosemary could feel the presence of another within that tower and a part of her was giddy with excitement. However, another part of her longed for there to be another way for her to receive the answers that she was looking. Rosemary knew that it would pain her to see her daughter dead and unable to physically touch her, but it was necessary in order for Rose to protect her new family. She had to be strong for Lyra, for Benjamin, and especially for herself.

Rosemary's arms fell in one swoop and the smoke escaped once again into the pentagram. She opened her eyes and there before her stood the ghost of Lyra.

For a moment, Rosemary could not breathe. Her hand went to her chest in shock, utterly amazed at the pixilated being floating before her. She was transparent and deathly gray, and from the waist down her body morphed into the air so that her legs were not seen. Yet within her eyes was a sadness, something palpable and pungent that Rosemary could not escape. Hollow and filled with a void unattainable on earth, it was evident that Lyra did not belong...and that her body, even in her ghostly appearance, was fading into the rare form of the poltergeist.

“Are you...” Rosemary swallowed, hearing the sound of her voice crack when she tried to speak. “...are you a ghost?”

It was possible that Lyra could be a phantom, trapped within the worlds and unable to find the strength to manifest into her body. Emery had told her countless stories about the phantoms at the graveyard, moaning and lingering between the realms, lost. Was it possible? If so, Lyra could learn to harness her power and become solid once again...they could be together...they could...

“Yes,”

Her voice was like an ancient dream that sounded far away, an echo that encompassed Rosemary in a sea of guilt and regret. Sadly she lowered her head, a sudden feeling of grief and loss overcoming her body. To know that her daughter had died was an awful thing to feel in general, but to see her in her current state left a hole in Rosemary’s heart. She felt as though she had failed every aspect of Lyra’s life. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“I am...I am so sorry for giving you away. I am sorry I died n the Viking Battle and I’m sorry I was not there for you when you discovered your magic. I should have been there, I should have never let you out of my sight,” Rosemary felt a weakness explode within her upon remembering the day that she gave Lyra to Susan. Nothing could ever compare to that moment...except to relive the horror as she was now. “Can you ever forgive me?”

The ghost of Lyra hummed and continued to float just out of reach. She was older, appearing as a woman who died as a mother and who had seen the world beyond white magic. “I forgave you a long time ago,”

Rosemary’s heart skipped a beat, a cleansing feeling washing over her.

“I have been waiting for this moment for many years. It was foretold that the seal between worlds would be bent, and that you would walk this land again. In doing so, I have remained as a shadow, awaiting your arrival,” Lyra said. Rosemary looked upon her daughter confused.

“Foretold? By who? Who could have possibly known that I would step from purgatory?”

“My son, Blaise, your grandson. He is more than just a warlock...he is a seer,”

“A seer? He can see the future?”

“Yes,”

Rosemary was in shock. She had never discovered the lineage of fae that her blood had came from, but knowing that Blaise was a true seer could only mean that the fae DNA was powerful. Everything began to slowly make sense to her...why he ran, why he left his family...

“Is he alive? Blaise? If so, I must find him. He abandoned his family after you passed away. His wife and children have yet to forgive him...they think he sold his soul for immortality but if that is not the case, I can reunite them...they can be a family again,”

Lyra nodded at her words. “Blaise left this country to seek the council of a great warlock in France. Seeing the future comes with a price...to know all, to see all...Blaise discovered something unexplainable, and that is why he left. Staying would have placed his family in harms way. There are people looking for him. He could not risk Anne and the children,”

“This warlock, who is he? What could he possibly want with Blaise? He’s been gone for over a decade, how do you know he is still alive?”

“I know,”

“But how? What if the warlock was the one looking for him? What if he is being held against his will? What if he needs help?!”

“You have little faith in me,”

“What? No--no, Lyra I promise I believe you. I just want to make sure he is safe...his family deserves to know, don’t you think?”

Lyra remained quiet, as if she were hiding something. Somehow, Rosemary could sense this. Her eyes narrowed as she looked upon the ghost of her daughter. “You are not telling me something. You would not have waited around all these years not to give me any kind of information to go off of,”

“Finding Blaise will be the death of you, mother. If you seek out my son, he will destroy you,”

Rosemary’s shoulders slumped in defeat at the information, regretting asking in the first place. “So either I allow Benjamin and his sister to grow up without their father for the sake of my life, or I reunite them and sacrifice my own,”

“That is correct,”

“How is this fair?”

“It is not,”

A silence settled between mother and daughter, haunting and deafening. Rosemary felt the weight of the world crashing down around her, and it was impossible to make the right decision. She cared for her family and wanted Benjamin to know that magic was not to be ashamed of, and that he could learn to harness the good in magic instead of the evil. Knowing that Blaise did not sell his soul as of yet made Rosemary believe that there was still hope.

“What will happen to you now?” Rosemary asked her daughter, afraid of the answer but needing to know either way.

“I will pass to the next life. My duty is completed. I was the only one in this world that knew of Blaise’s true nature; I took that secret to my grave. Now I pass it on to you, mother. I know that you will make the right choice,”

[emeryfrost]

Emery & Takeshi || Your Enemy Is My Enemy

[emeryfrost]

takeshi-bin:

Takeshi stroked Samir’s head gently once he landed on shore, the soild state of the ground causing him to nearly topple over. Hearing Emery’s laugh made the pirate bark one in return, letting Samir flutter up and into his hat. The poor bird was tired of late, and he knew of the celebration he need to have in the little familiars name soon. Tak would miss his loyal friend, but Maya was a strong companion now. Showing the change in his personality. More, Samir deserved rest, Tak having kept him magically alive longer than necessary. It was of his old life, and the lazy dove would find it’s resting place in his hat until the time came. 

“Aye that be te best idea,” he humored with a loud clashing collision of metals to settle haphazardly upon the rock. He crossed his legs, resting the muddied soil of his boot across his knee while his blue leather jacket fanned out around him. His face sparked in amusement, pulling out a flask to hand it to Emery. 

“Not entirely rum– take a whiff, aye made a man drink himself into a passed out stupor with me famous rum then took his blood! HAHAHA! Aye not know if it be good, but good manners in drinkin’ together than alone–” he said with a cheers of his own rum flask, the item elaborate as he in encrusted emeralds and golden designs fit for a king. Tak took a generous sip. 

“Aye destroyed an island not but a few passin’ nights ago, watch it devoured by a storm!” he laughed once more, kicking his feet out to rest them better against the sands. Starting the conversation in a story wasn’t out of character for the warlock, but that really wasn’t why they were here. “What be troublin’ me not be ‘bout adventure little one… aye believe te Captain can fix a many things, ‘nd this might be one o’ them. But ye need te know somethin’– ” He looked upon his beautiful ship out at sea.

“Tis phantom brat o’ a boy visited me te very night I realized that Rose’s soul be in that gem upon ye sword. It be botherin’ me, his intentions, why he be so intent on her comin’ out. Ye know such a boy? White hair as snow, a smirk that not a soul could hope te read in intention? He seemed te know ye–”

“Fucking Jeremiah,”

Emery allowed himself to grin in an exasperated way, his head shaking and his hand going to the mess of black atop his head. Of course. Of course! And just like that everything began to make sense, at least the specific parts of Jeremiah’s warnings and the need for Babanel’s blood. For a phantom, Jeremiah was more pirate than he realized, so making a deal with one did not seem entirely out of character. Emery stared off into the sea, his eyes watching the skies as if expecting for the phantom to be hovering nearby, listening, watching. 

“It’s been months since he last made an appearance...since before Rose was set free. Last I saw of him he took Babanel’s blood during the raids in Night Haven...said something about me not listening to him, that I was being careless. I never know what the fuck he is talking about. Jeremiah has his own agenda, his own plan. Whatever idea he had about this whole thing is probably the product of something a hell of a lot bigger than we realize, trust me,”

After Rose escaped from purgatory, Emery assumed that Jeremiah would continue to terrorize him; leave him notes, hide in the shadows...but none of that had occurred. For a while, Emery thought that Babanel’s blood was just that important to him, that whatever he needed it for would overcome the need to interfere with Emery’s new life. It was the only explanation he had for Jeremiah’s absence. Of course, he wasn’t complaining about the phantom being vacant. But it did leave a distasteful energy in the pit of his stomach; the not knowing was almost just as worse.

Thinking about his enemy left Emery fidgeting with his fingernails, his foot beginning to tap in nervousness. “No one understands him...he is the most powerful being I’ve ever seen. And not just in strength, you know? He plays these mind games, manipulates people, fucks with your dreams and haunts you until you think you’re going crazy. He takes everything you love, everything you care about, and puts it in jeopardy, to the point where you don’t have a choice but to submit. The fear he can elicit is just...overbearing,” Emery sighed, embarrassed and ashamed to be admitting such weak emotions, but knowing that Takeshi was the right person to understand. “I’ve never been able to stand up to him,”

[emeryfrost]

Emery & Rosemary || Part Two “Stand By Me”

The small Countryside Village was easily missed by most travelers, though if a wayward soul would find its way into the town, they would be greeted by warm and friendly faces. The families that made up the town were very old, and each house was dedicated to a particular lineage. The children, once old enough, would leave to venture out to the cities to find work and create temporary homes for themselves. But it was always expected that the eldest of the family would receive the home upon the death of the current family member. It was their duty to return to the house and raise their own children there, and pass it along as it had been done so to them. With only several stone homes making up the small village, a docile farm and a handful of chickens, the residence made due with what they brought back from Night Haven during the trading season. It was a quiet life and one that was preferred by most, that was until they were attacked by beasts in the middle of the night.

Emery had told Rosemary about his and Shiloh’s trip to the village to seek out the blood from her living descendant. Eager to know everything there was to know about her family, Rosemary bombarded Emery with question after question about who they were and what they were like. Unenthusiastic to share such information with her, Emery gave her vague details and shooed her away, not interested in the slightest to have her worrying about a family that wanted nothing to do with her or her magic. He was her family now, not them, and he would make sure that they didn’t hurt her.

After weeks of nagging, Rosemary finally declared to her husband that she would be traveling to the village, with or without his help. She packed a small bag and some food, swinging it over her shoulder, and looked upon him with expecting eyes. Emery, refusing to allow Rosemary to travel to the countryside without so much as an idea as to where she was going, reluctantly decided to show her the way.

Emery and Shiloh had made it to the village in half a night, sprinting at full force. Carriages did not travel to the countryside and so they were forced to travel by horseback. This, Emery was not thrilled about. Horses, though loyal and strong creatures, did not seem to enjoy the vampire very much. May it be his dead soul and his inability to connect to the great beasts, he was not sure. It had been years, decades, since he rode a horse and it took him until they were clear from the forests surrounding Night Haven for the creature to trot at a steady pace.

He received a laughable ear-full from his wife about the incident.

“There it is,” Rosemary pointed, her other arm wrapped safely around her husband’s torso. After two nights of riding they had finally made it, and Emery did his best to be happy for Rose...but it was difficult. He did not want anything to do with this family or her own blood lineage. He wanted Rose for himself.

Soft lights filled the windows of the cottages, flickering with a small gust of wind from the hill. At the gate leading into the homes, Emery tied the horse to the post and pushed through.

“Thank you, for bringing me...I know this is not your ideal plan but it is important to me,” Rosemary intertwined their fingers as they walked forward, giving it a small squeeze. Emery only nodded, remaining silent, and lead them towards the house where her living descendants were slumbering.

At the walkway he stopped and kissed her, lingering for a very precious moment. “I won’t be far...I’m going to try to make it to the beaches tonight to see Tak. Stay here tonight and I’ll be back the night after next,”

He handed her the bag and motioned towards the house. “The mother...she’s not kind. I told her that if she didn’t find their father then I’d come back for her. If he’s not there, you let me know, and I’ll take care of it,”

“I don’t need you to take care of it, Em. Regardless if she found him or not they are my family and I want them to be safe. I just want to get some information on Lyra,”

Rosemary kissed him on the cheek and headed for the door. Once there, she took a long breath, raising her hand to the wooden structure. “Here goes,” she knocked several times, looking back over her shoulder to see if Emery was still waiting...but he had gone.

She heard shuffling from inside and the light from another candle shone through the window. Seconds later, the door creaked open just enough for an older woman to show her face. “Who are you? What do you want?”

“H-hello,” Rosemary stuttered, smiling awkwardly and offering a small, shy wave. “I’m so sorry to bother you this late, but I just arrived from Night Haven and I need a place to rest. I promise I won’t stay long,”

The woman looked passed Rosemary and scanned the perimeter outside, then looked upon Rose’s face with apprehension. “You alone?”

“Yes, I am, only my horse has accompanied me tonight,”

She looked at the horse, then back at Rose. “Fine, but I’ve no beds for you. Come in,” standing aside, Rosemary slipped through the archway and into the cottage. Immediately she smelled fresh sage and thyme, along with other herbs that mixed together quite nicely. Removing her cloak she draped it along the back of a chair and continued to look around, hoping to appear nonchalant and not so curious.

“What is your name? Mine is Rosemary. Thank you so much for allowing me to stay here...do you have any children?”

The woman shuffled to the table and lit several more candles, adding light to the walls. “I’m Anne. And yes I do, two actually...they are slumbering as it is the middle of the night,”

“Yes, it is and I’m so terribly sorry,” Rosemary chewed on her lip, wondering if her manners were sufficient. She had never been good at such things. “Might I see them?”

“What for?” Anne poked at a dying fire in the fireplace and set a kettle over it, then continued to busy herself with other tasks in order to avoid eye contact with her guest.

“I...just love children,” she replied weakly. “I had a child once,”

“Once? What does that mean?” Anne inquired without much console, now rearranging her herbs on the mantel.

“Well,” Rose took a deep breath, allowing herself to aimlessly walk around the cottage as she spoke. “I had a daughter from a man that was...not wanted,” she stole a look at Anne, but the woman had paid her no mind to the dreadful comment. “But I could not keep her, you see. I had to give her away,”

Anne glanced at Rose and offered a sympathetic look. “That’s terrible,” then went back to fluffing the pillows on the sofa.

“Yes but it was for her best interests. There was a woman who took care of her for me, she lived here in the countryside. I would come to see her as much as I could, but it was difficult,”

“I can imagine,”

“Every time I had to leave her a piece of me would crush into the earth. Nothing could replace that feeling or fill the void for the loss I felt when I would hand her to Susan and go home,”

“Susan?” Anne stopped fluffing the pillows and stood more straighter, her attention now on Rosemary.

“She was a wonderful woman, so caring and loyal. As much as it pained me to leave my daughter with her, I knew that she was well-cared for,” Rosemary folded her hands in front of her, her memories of her daughter allowing her to feel grief and loss. “There is a reason why I came here, Anne. My daughter...”

She met Anne’s eyes, locking her into a stare that was unbreakable and strong. “...was Lyra Penvellyn,” she paused as Anne’s eyes went wide, and she stepped backwards involuntarily, her hand grasping at her chest. “My name is Rosemary Frost, and I am your children’s great-grandmother,”

A very palpable thickness encompassed the air between Rosemary and Anne, a silence that was evident and possessed a hint of anger. Anne had remained frozen for a moment, staring at Rose as if she were a disease, a walking reminder of everything she loathed in magic. A part of her did not want to believe that this beautiful, young woman was truly responsible for all that had succumbed to her family. But she knew better. Anne had taken the children to visit Lyra’s grave after the snow had melted and the Hallowed Oak was safer to travel. It was there that she saw the disturbance in her grave, a large piece of her skeleton had gone missing. She shielded her children’s eyes and sent them away from the horrid sight, but not after she examined the area more carefully looking for clues. Although she had found no reason for Lyra’s grave to be meddled with, she had found it odd for a part of her to have gone astray.

Why take the bone? Why not the jewelry she was buried with or the wand hidden beneath her frame?

Magic had always been a sour spot for Anne; she disapproved and wanting nothing to do with it. She had kept her child safe from his gift and would be damned if someone came along to tell her otherwise. After the visit with the vampire and the wolf, Anne knew that it was only a matter of time before something like this happened. She was not blind. She knew that what was being collected was for a spell, but for what spell she was not sure.

Now she had her answer.

“You are dead,” Anne found her voice. “You perished in the war,”

“I did,” Rose answered, nodding slightly. “I have been dead for fifty years until my husband and a great warlock cast a spell to retrieve me,”

“Retrieve you from where?”

Rose swallowed, lifting her chin in hopes of gaining confidence to talk about her past. “From purgatory,”

Anne made a noise that clearly did not fancy that idea, and she moved away from Rose and back to the fire where the kettle began to whistle. Talking as she worked, she pour the hot water in two cups, preparing them. “I don’t want any of that devil magic here. You tell your monster of a husband to stay away from me! Stay away from my children! He attacked me you know, threatened my life. What kind of man does such a thing to an old woman? It’s wrong, I tell you! You should have stayed in purgatory, it’s where your fate sent you. You don’t belong in this world, Rosemary. Have you thought of the consequences for your selfish actions? Have you thought about the unbalance you have created?”

Scoffing, Anne motioned for Rose to take her cup, leaving her own on the tray and beginning to pace. Magic always found its way back to that little cottage, no matter how hard she tried to protect her children from it.

Rosemary took the tea and dropped a small cube of sugar inside the hot water. She sat on the edge of a chair, cautious and trying desperately to retain her manners.

“I have thought about every possible scenario, Anne. I did not ask for this, though I am not unhappy about being way from that place. You would not understand nor would I expect you, or anyone else, to,” She blew on the water, then took a small sip. “Dark magic was used...it was powerful, and I was grasped by an angel of death. I know that there is a price for this, which is why I have come here,”

“What could you possible want here? My boy does not practice magic and his father ran off when Lyra passed. There is nothing for you here,”

Rose shook her head. “You’re wrong. There is everything for me here. Your child, he is my great-grandson by blood. He has strong and wonderful magic within him. He deserves to know, he deserves to practice it. I want to help him...it will be my way of fixing the wrong I have taken part of. But I must ask your blessing,”

“My blessing? You shall not receive it!” Anne was growing more angry by the second, her face becoming a distinct red. A bead of sweat dripped from her forehead. “If I wanted Benjamin to practice like his father then I would have found a way to already, don’t you think? His father carried all of Lyra’s magic, the good and the evil, especially the evil. Do you think I want that for my son? Do you think I want him to abandon his family in search of riches and gold in France? To become a creature of immortality? To worship the devil!”

“We do not worship the devil!”

“You sell your souls to the devil to become immortal. What else could that possibly mean?”

“You’re wrong. There are other ways. Your husband must have found another way and that is why he left. Maybe what he was doing was too powerful to be around your family. He must have had his reasons...”

Anne’s hands balled into fists at how loosely Rosemary was speaking of her husband, as if she knew him her whole life. “Blaise was consumed in dark magic. His soul was corrupt. All he cared about was finding the remaining collection of Book of Shadows and filling his heart with evil. He left when I found out I was having the twins, sailed away to France last I heard of him. He is probably dead by now, joined with his mother in a deep corruption of darkness. Yes, that’s right. Your daughter, Lyra, was not so different. Where do you think Blaise learned about his powers? And now it all makes sense; your own soul was lost in purgatory, forgotten...and meanwhile your kin found the dark arts and consumed themselves within. Perhaps if you had never died then Blaise would still be here for his children. What does that say about you, Rose? Why did you perish when you had everything to look after? Why did you curse this family?!”

The cup from the tray went flying across the room, shattering against the wall behind Rose’s head. Lost and unable to respond to Anne’s accusations, Rosemary felt a very familiar uncomfortable emotion churn within her stomach. Knowing that Lyra had practice dark magic settled wrongly inside of her heart, tugging at it harshly in a mocking manner. Perhaps if she had survive the Viking Battle, she would have been able to teach her daughter the ways of the forest, to be guided by the spirits rather than the devil. Her hand went to her chest, the muscles there tightening.

“Momma?”

A small voice echoed from the hallway leading towards the bedrooms. Anne and Rose looked over to see the small boy, his hair blonde and tangled from his slumber. He rubbed at his eyes, confused. “Who is that lady?”

Anne rushed towards him as Rosemary stood, her face softening at his sight. “Benjamin, you need to go back to sleep,”

“I’m Rosemary,” she said loudly over Anne’s words, receiving a scolding look from the older woman. “I’ve actually been looking for you. Won’t you sit with me?”

Rosemary sat on the porch of the cottage, her chair rocking back and forth with a solemn creak. She had watched the sun set some time ago while nursing a cup of tea and some tarts from Anne’s oven. She expected Emery soon and trained her eyes on the gate leading up to the homes. The door opened and Anne emerge, bundled in a cloak and blanket that she draped over her legs once she sat in the opposing chair. For a moment they remained silent, the air between them filling with much apprehension. Finally, Rosemary spoke softly.

“I want to keep seeing him,” “I would rather you not,”

The previous night had been spent with Benjamin and Grace, his sister. Rosemary cherished the time with them, sharing with Benjamin a basic healing spell in secret. She told him to practice it often, and that as he grew stronger so would the spell. Enthralled, and not at all scared to see such wonders, Benjamin begged Rosemary to teach him more. But she could not. Explaining magic and her emergence from purgatory was frightening enough. She decided it was best not to overwhelm the children at first, and that there would be plenty of time for that in the future.

“I want to keep seeing him,” she repeated, more as a hefty statement this time. “I will come once a month after the full moon, and he will practice his gift,”

“No,” Anne said, her eyes watching through the window of the neighbor across from her. “I will not have him become corrupt with the magic taught by an escapee of purgatory...no, Rosemary. We will not do this,”

“Emery told me there was a spell book on the chair when he and the wolf arrived that night. Why was it there?”

“I told them it was a story, just a fairy tale of nonsense. Benjamin had found it in an old box that Blaise left behind. What importance does it have to you?”

“When I leave I would like to take it with me. It will help me understand what kind of warlock Blaise is,”

“And why would you need to know that information?” Anne huffed, sinking further and further into her blanket as they spoke.

“Because he is my grandson and I have a right to know, just like I have a right to teach my craft to Benjamin,” Rose stated firmly. “You are only hurting him by shielding him from his gifts,”

Anne frowned and looked away, picking a spot in the garden and staring at it instead of meeting Rose’s eyes. She knew that Rose was right...either way, it was dangerous for Benjamin to be alive with or without his magic. But she had seen what Lyra and Blaise had become, and she did not want anything to do with it. Her son would not be corrupted; his soul would stay intact.

Another hearty silence fell between them as they rocked in their chairs, and Rose watched as the moon began to rise into the sky. In the countryside, the stars twinkled magnificently, glowing like fireflies against the black atmosphere. It was peaceful here, and Rose could understand why it was important for it to not be disturbed. But Benjamin had a gift, and it could not be avoided any longer.

Rosemary saw a shadow in the distance walking up towards the gate, and the closer it got the more sad she became. Leaving Benjamin with this awful woman was not settling well with her, but she was determined to remain strong. She would see him again in a months time, and on her next journey she would bring him his own spell book. Rosemary stood and gathered her little belongings, then looked to Anne.

“Please bring me the book, my husband is here,”

Rosemary waved to Emery and moved aside as Anne stood. She vanished into the house and Rose waited patiently for her return. Emery stood in the road with his arms crossed, grinning childishly at Rose, who appeared out of her element. It was reassuring and he cherished it, and would make of her later for it.

Anne placed the book in Rose’s hand. “You keep this safe, you hear? These were his spells before he found the Book of Shadows...they are all I remember him by,”

Rosemary nodded, understanding completely. With the book in hand she turned and descended the steps towards Emery, linking her arm around him as they walked to the horse. She looked back once, noting the look upon Anne’s face...a mixture of hatred and regret, all bubbling into one long stare. She pressed the book against her frame tightly; she would protect it with her life.

[shilohgarrett-blog]

These Streets || Emshi

[shilohgarrett-blog]

Shiloh couldn’t stop his smile. He tried. God he tried so fucking hard, but it was stretched wide and toothy. Something brightening his warm skin in golden hues, and releasing a swirl of amusement in an amber sheen to his eyes. Shiloh loved Emery. His brother and companion was someone he needed so terribly in his life, and the fact he could be a ronin wolf and have something like this with Em kept the beast alive. Everything before Emery. Those years alone in Athoria– going crazy with grief and feeling so lost he barely made it. It all changed almost two years ago. Emery saved him.

“Alright!” he spun around, rallying his own people. Pointing to a few larger men like him to gave the beast various thumbs up, and encouraging words that they had his bet. Shiloh cracked his knuckles playfully, creaking his bones in wanted wolfish shapes that crackled under his flesh. How beautiful that moment would be. His garou form erupting from this human shell to take on his vampyric brother. That would be a fight none of these people would be ready for, but it wasn’t what to happen. Shiloh listened to the clinking of coins, and amusement unable to leave his face. 

“Without one hit! You hear him? This skinny chump thinks he knows what being a man is? Still so young– not knowing when a warrior stands before him,” Shiloh made to actually hit his chest like a gorilla. Knowing Emery would physically feel the laughter he was keeping away, but was internally dying from. “Well bring it then!” he looked right at Em, setting his footing into a brawl style that the humans would better expect. “Give me your best shot–”

[emeryfrost]

Emery tucked the bag of coins inside his shirt. It was a good amount; he had done a demanding job at selling the fight to the crowd who were eating the entertainment alive. He eyed the door and saw that there wasn’t a clear path. Running out wasn’t an option, although he was more than confident that even without using their abilities they could outrun a mob of drunken tavern people coming after them. Still, he surveyed the area and encircled Shiloh, who was really trying his best to hold it all in. It was funny. The entire night out had gone entirely opposite to their original plan of simple drinks and women. But Emery wouldn’t have had it any other way.

“I can’t wait to spend all this money on myself,” he mused loudly and egotistically, patting the pouch against his chest in an over-dramatic loving manner. 

Keep swinging at me, Emery said to Shiloh. He moved so his back was facing the door to the tavern. We’ll lead them outside.

Emery gave one final push at Shiloh’s chest for added effect, mocking his brawling stance and allowing a signature smirk to press his lips. Dodging Shiloh’s swings would be interesting, knowing that the wolf wouldn’t hold back. But he was up for the challenge and welcomed it, allowing himself to think of it as a simple training session. “Come on! I’m waiting!”

[emeryfrost]

Emery & Takeshi || Your Enemy Is My Enemy

Emery sat on a hefty pile of rocks outlining a particular part of the Western Beaches. In his hand he broke apart a stick, stripping the bark with his dirty nails and letting the pieces fall into a precarious pile at his feet. He had been running for hours and it felt nice to finally sit down, relax. Though the night would come to an end soon, Emery had a very important date with a crazy pirate that he promised to be present for. At the beaches, time was irrelevant, or so it seemed. With the sound of the waves and the crashing of water against the shoreline, it was hard to imagine that there was a whole world right behind him in the Hallowed Oak. 

Docile. It was calm. And quiet.

Out in the ocean Emery gazed upon Takeshi’s magnificent ship, anchored and still while moonlight danced on its surface and allowed the magic to be vibrant. 

And coming towards him from the boat was the warlock.

Emery raised his hand in a wave, motioning to Takeshi where he was along the beach. Perfect timing.

The sight of Takeshi Bin was always a shock. One could never really get accustomed to the amount of gems he traveled with, or the growing strands of necklaces and rings that littered his chest and fingers. His sway was an odd swag, definite and wobbly, and to Emery it was more amusing to watch Takeshi try and walk a straight line then to actually see him use his magic for anything. Within himself, Tak was the most interesting character Emery had ever crossed paths with. He was proud to call him his friend.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Emery teased with a boyish grin. It might have been months since they last saw one another but once they were together it seemed like only yesterday. Emery patted the rock next to him. “Take a seat before you fall over,”

[emeryfrost]

Emery & Rosemary || Part One “Crush Me”

Emery’s hands gripped the insides of Rose’s thighs, his fingers indenting the paleness of her skin and leaving behind luscious and territorial red marks. Hungrily his teeth bit at skin on her stomach, trailing his incisors along the flatness of her body, the urge to consume her growing stronger and stronger until it would become overpowering. He groaned, his voice vibrating through her flesh in an urgent growl, animalistic and taunting as he pressed against her further.

Rosemary and Emery had survived long months since her emergence from the portal in the field bellow Night Haven. Without a scar on her body she was placed delicately back into the life of humans, and through the winter and the spring months they had pretended as though the fifty years spent apart had not wavered their bond. No, if anything they were closer, retaining a deep understanding from the suffer they had endured and replacing it with a connection too valuable for words to describe. Together, Rose and Emery were one spirit, one soul. And Emery intended to remain that way forever.

Though, Rose’s mortality was a growing issue and it settled with Emery uncomfortably. Forever he would remain the twenty year old boy, ageless and immortal as the years continued on. He could not say the same for his wife. Rosemary had died at the age of twenty-three, and now, a patron of this world, her body would continue to grow without her husbands. It was a very sensitive and emotional topic for Emery and one that he thought on often. He promised himself a year with Rose before diving head first into a solution to solve this problem, and now, halfway through summer, Emery realized that it was closer than he originally anticipated.

Emery mumbled against her skin, sweet nothings that escaped from his throat and capture themselves against her flesh.

“Rosemary Frost, I can’t live without you,” “Let’s keep it that way”

Rose’s hands ruffled his hair, taking the sides of his face and bringing him up towards her on the bed. Gingerly she kissed him, never able to bring herself to accept that he wasn’t perfect, that they weren’t perfect, and no matter the darker sides to her that were making quite the appearances as of lately she was determined to cherish her moments with Emery more then ever. It was there, wrapped up within him, that she felt most safe.

“How goes it with Tak?” Emery asked, falling to her side and propping himself up on his elbow. “He’s a bit much,”

“Actually, he’s more than that. Tak is…brilliant, and his magic is so like mine its almost unreal. The way my magic reacts to his is something I’ve never experienced before…like…like a special connection, some sort of bond,”

“Do you think it has anything to do with his spell? I mean, he’s the one that created it, performed it, got you out…seems right for there to be something more there,”

“I think that’s exactly it,” Rose’s eyes gleamed with excitement speaking of Takeshi Bin. “I know that the magic he uses can be dark, some of it is plagued from a Book of Shadows…did you know he has used dark magic before? He has brands against his skin from the spells…they are both terrifying and hypnotizing,”

“Well that’s not surprising,”

“No, but,” Rose leaned back against the pillow, her eyes lost in a sea of awe. “he makes me want to try new spells…spells that I have never imagined myself doing. They may be dark, and I know that magic comes with a price…”

“I think you’d look incredible with a magic brand here and there,” Emery grinned.

“I just mean that Takeshi will help me become immortal. Hell, he might even do it himself if I can convince him,”

Emery’s expression flickered with an unhealthy jealousy. As much as he cherished the thought of Rosemary becoming ageless in appearance, forever growing old with him, a strong part of him wished her to become a vampire. It was selfish and stemmed from the deepest roots of his own greediness.

He watched the vein on her neck pulsate, heard the steady beat of her loving heart and wondered what it would be like to never hear it again. His hand brushed her arm, recognizing the warmth there that would be replaced with a coldness instead. Though her skin was pale from spending most nights awake, and slumbering during daylight hours, it would never again radiant with a kiss of summer tan. Rosemary would be dead, but she would be his princess…and she would be powerful.

“I could turn you,”

He spoke before he realized it. Rosemary’s eyes darted to his own, looking up at him in a mixed state of confusion. She sat up a bit, her head shaking. “What? Why would you say that?”

“Well why not?” “Because my magic, Emery. I couldn’t be a vampire and keep my magic, you know that,”

Emery did know and it was the whole reason he kept his ideas to himself over these months. He had never wanted to turn her before in their past life but now the feeling was strong. It would make Chandra proud and give Rose an accurate title to the throne beside him. Their lineages would be vast and any progenies would suffice in their royal world. Instead of bearing children, they would turn dozens of rightful heirs, together ruling them in England and they would do immortally. The Prince and Princess of the Striga.

“I know your magic is important to you….” “Obviously not if you would suggest something like that,”

Rose stood from the bed and began to pace the length of their bedroom, her shadow dancing from the flame of the lone candle. “I don’t ever want to become a vampire, Emery. My magic is everything to me, it’s all I have. When I was in purgatory I had nothing…all that time I couldn’t do any spell. But now? I don’t only have my magic back, but I’m stronger than before. And with Tak’s help I could keep my magic and stay with you forever. Isn’t that more important? Or is turning me the only thing you really care about?”

Emery rolled his eyes and stood as well. “It’s not the only fucking thing I care about, Rose,”

“Then why would you say that,” “Maybe because I’m a Prince, maybe because you were born to thrive in the sun and I was made to stalk the night, maybe because we can’t have kids when we’re opposing species and if I turned you then we could have all that and more, maybe because I’m the most selfish man in the whole universe and you’re gonna have to fucking deal with the fact that turning you would make ME happy. God forbid!”

“Grow up! I’d rather die than become a vampire, Emery. I love you and I love who you are, and I have never judged you for what you need to do to survive, but that is not my lifestyle, that is NOT me!”

“You say you are stronger now–” “With my magic!” “–and yet you refuse to accept the fact that as a vampire you’d be several times as strong. With my blood, you’d be unstoppable,” “And we would what, live in a manor? With guards and fancy goblets, gems and jewels, Chandra?” “Maybe one day, but we wouldn’t need to do that right now,” “You’re unbelievable. Since when did those things matter to you? Wasn’t this, our home, being together, supposed to be enough for you? Isn’t that why you brought me back?”

Emery moved in front of her, his expression reflecting an odd combination of regret for suggesting such a thing and a longing for her to understand, and comply. “I brought you back so we could be together forever. Maybe a part of me always wanted this, even back when I met you fifty years ago. This dark magic, it’s not a guarantee. If I turn you, it is,”

“How is it a guarantee when I might not even survive the change?” “You will survive because you’re strong,”

Rose shook her head. She was angry and shaking, upset about the fact that they were fighting to begin with, and more devastated at the very thought of living again without her magic. Now that she had it, she would never let it go. Not for anything, or anyone. Not even Emery.

“I just can’t,” She stepped away from him, her arms wrapping around herself. “I won’t do it,”

[rowan--murdoc]

At A Glance // Rowan & Emery // Closed

[rowan--murdoc]

As far as Rowan was concerned, this was an honor. Emery might not have been an elder, but he certainly had more experience than himself. From his experience, vampires were quite secretive creatures outside of their clan. That Emery had been generous enough to offer such a thing to a fledgling he did not know was probably quite rare. And for doing so, Emery would forever have Rowan’s thanks.

He was quite skeptical of interacting with a demon, though. Vampires were bad enough as far as he was concerned. But if Emery entrusted his shop to her, he supposed she must not be so bad. But who knew what fate had in store for him? Or how long he would continue to reside in Monir City? A weak smile tugging at the corners of his lips, Rowan said, “Thank you for the warning. I shall keep that in mind.”

Watching as the beautiful blade was taken from his fingers and put away, reluctance began to tug at his dead heart. He had no desire to return to Horace’s shop, no desire to be near any of his clan. But it was clear he had lingered in the other vampire’s territory for long enough, and he was smart enough to not push his luck. “If I should find a spare moment, then I shall stop by.” Taking Emery’s hand and shaking it, a genuine smile spread across Rowan’s pale face. “Yes, we shall see each other soon.

“And again…thank you.”

[emeryfrost]

He took her hand and slipped the ring back to its rightful place, then brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed them over and over. All the while his childish grin stretched across his face, presenting her with a rare and over-excited attitude that was electric. “I love you so god damn much, Mrs. Frost,”

[shilohgarrett-blog]

These Streets || Emshi

[shilohgarrett-blog]

Emery’s outburst once more almost made the beast ruin everything. He was already hovering on snorting so he released it with an added dramatic roll of his eyes. Internally blossoming with excitement the more Emery launched out in his verbal attack. He tossed his winning up and down lightly in the air in a mild juggle, shifting his weight and offering a circled path around Emery while he turned his attentions back on the crowd over the beast.

“Yall are dumber than a door nail–” he admitted almost somberly with a shrug of his shoulders just when Emery shoved him. The wolf let his body move, tripping even to give more illusion to he had been drinking landing his palms on a near by table to stop his forward progression. 

“An apology! IM SORRY tavern people! I seem to excel at darts the more I drink. Well then, since apology’s are on the table, will we trek back to the other tavern where you played your hands just right before we got here as well? Where do you all think we got that initial pile of coin from?” He asked the crowds, spinning in a circle to better see everyone around them. 

“Come on then! Ill walk you there myself–  you however, how ever did he beat YOU at arm wrestling anyway?” he barked out loudly to the man Emery beat before, the deep undertone of his illusioned wolven body projecting the sounds through out the entire space, drawing the attention back onto Emery in a negative way. This was the plan after all wasn’t it? To confuse them, get them all riled up, steal all their money. To have fun. Shiloh laughed quietly, but it was more for Emery to hear over the drunken crowds who were starting to get into it with each other simply because they almost had too.

[emeryfrost]

The people around them exchanged conversation, some of them whispering about who was telling the truth and who was lying. Fingers were pointed at them as the two encircled each other in the space, all eyes watching at what was to happen next. Chatter arose the more Shiloh and Emery put blame on one another, confusion now resting on the crowds shoulders on whether or not they were being honest. Some eyed the coin in Shiloh’s hand, others watched the arm wrestler squirm in his chair.

“Okay, fine. I admit that we earned the money from the other tavern. But I am not the one cheating here,” Emery was all theatrics, his arms going out in hopes of gaining the trust of the people. He looked at the man he had beaten once again. “Sir, I offer my sincerest apologies. But there is NO way to cheat at arm wrestling. I am clearly not intoxicated, unlike our friend here. Go on, tell them the truth!”

Emery turned his back to Shiloh, all eyes now on the crowd. He pulled a pouch from his belt and held it open. “Come on, place your bets now! I can take on this giant wolflike man without so much as taking a hit! Let’s go, fill it up people! Winner takes all!”

[depalmado-blog]

Of The Hollow Men || Michael & Emery

I remember the first time I saw you…I had thought to myself that maybe being undead would be okay with you around…that maybe I had over-reacted, that maybe I could love you. But I was wrong. Once upon a time my name was Liliana, and we were to be wed.

His eyes had read over the letter a thousand times, maybe more. Ever since it had slid under Thirst’s door, during the waning hours of dusk, there had been little distractions that could pull him away from it. 

Your mother is fighting me as I write this, attempting to weave her way through my mind and commit a shameless crime against myself that will only bring my family name further into the ground. Why do you trust her so? Can you not see through her lies and deceit? Her control over you is incomprehensible. You must find a way to break the connection and quickly, or else you will forget again.

It held all the answers to the questions that had plagued him, yet raised more along the way. Though still, the foundation had been laid; the answers scribbled on this paper, written by a woman he once knew, someone he must have once cared for. 

I am sorry for the confusion that I have caused you in your life. But it seems that no matter where you go for answers you are only left with more questions, and that needs to end. Collette has been lying to you and your mother is the reason. Ask her more questions and she will not be able to detain herself. She loves you, Michael. Let her be a part of who you are.

Liliana was a name that circled in his brain, and he could just vaguely remember her like words on the tip of his tongue. He could see those green eyes, could smell her powerful scent as it filled the air, he could feel her flesh against his lips – if only briefly. He could remember fire, and smoke. Brimstone burning against the trees as the sounds of screams punctured the air. He could remember the look of surrender on his Maker’s face, and hear his bitter words ringing in his ears… These fleeting memories corrupted and torn away from him, yet still the Elder grasped at them most hastily, more readily. She said he might forget again. She said that if he allowed his mother to continue spinning this tangled web, for whatever her reason, then the memories would slip between his fingers once more.

You may never remember the day we met as I have, and by the time you have finished reading this letter I will have passed into another life. But I have hope that you will discover such things in your own way. The amulet your received last year is a valuable piece of this puzzle. You will need to find a man named Brock and hunt with him to find out the truth of the pendant. It is from my people. Find them, find Rafael…find Babanel. Do not stop until you do. The crown can wait.

It had been long since the letter had landed in the Elder’s lap, but the words still clung to him. He would need to find the man called Brock, use him as the woman had said, and continue unraveling the secrets being kept from him. 

But they could all wait. They would all come with time.

As for your son, I believe him to be a strong King one day and I believe you should allow him on the throne. Your kingdoms are weak. To others you appear disposable and unreliable, and yet still you stay in the darkness afraid to find out the truth. Make alliances, make more progenies, grow the bloodline into something more vivid.

He placed a large sack down on the table of his child’s business; supplies he’d brought from Night Haven that the boy would need. He hadn’t told Emery about the letter, but there were things in there that struck a cord with Michael, forcing the ancient creature to reminisce on words he once told his own son: how he could never take the thrown, how his beast wouldn’t allow it.

Had he been mistaken?

I wish I had had the chance to speak to you one last time. But this is the ending of my story. Head my words or think nothing of it, that is your decision. I only wish you luck, Michael. Goodbye.

“I think this is everything.”

[emeryfrost]

Emery had made sure Shiloh was off doing...whatever he did those days, and not around The Serpent’s Pass when Michael stopped by. Though the thought of Michael being in Monir and not in Night Haven when Emery, himself, was spending time at the shop was slightly discomforting. He preferred not to leave Rose alone for too long, and knowing that Michael was only right down the street from their home in the village kept Emery’s mind at ease. Rose, though capable of handling herself these days, was more important than his own life, and if harm were to come to her while Emery was away...he would never be able to forgive himself. Not again.

So as relieved as he was to see Michael bring the supplies that Emery had forgotten, he reached out to Rose to make sure she was quite alright without them. 

She was, in fact, just fine.

“Thank you,” Emery rummaged through the sack in search of one item in particular, a small box that held a few gemstones that Levistus had given to him upon their last meeting. Emery had taken quite the beating for those beauties, and Levistus was not one to hold back. In the field where him and Michael had trained was where the ice demon unleashed his anger on the vampire, making the boy well-aware of who was in charge, and the price of his gold. Levistus destroying Emery’s face to a bloody pulp allowed Shiloh to be unharmed, and it always resulted in a box of fine gems.

It was a win-win, really. But Michael and Shiloh didn’t need to know all of that.

“Can’t believe I forgot these...” Emery dug further, hands pushing aside metals and leather until finally he emerged with the box. Relieved and now excited that he had what he truly needed, he pried open the lid to reveal the gorgeous stones inside. He showed them to Michael. “Pretty, huh? A fancy duke in the castle wants a custom dagger for his daughter laced in these gems...I can’t wait to start making it, it’s going to be jaw-dropping,” Emery’s excitement was palpable and contagious, filling the small shop with a feeling of adolescence and innocence. “Thanks again...you hungry? I can grab one of the girls down at the brothel if you want,”

[rowan--murdoc]

At A Glance // Rowan & Emery // Closed

[rowan--murdoc]

So then, it seemed that talk of his mortal life didn’t unsettle Emery near as much. He wondered how he’d gone from being the son of a blacksmith to the immortal son of a blacksmith, but he knew better than to pose that question. Emery was just now starting to open up to him, and Rowan didn’t want to lose their acquaintanceship by saying the wrong thing.

“It sounds as if you have a great deal of experience in such matters,” Rowan commented, his eyes flicking over to Emery’s with curiosity. The desire to glean some of the man’s past couldn’t be helped, but Rowan had the good grace to look somewhat ashamed. “My apologies,” he said softly. “Before this life, I never really had to fight. Wasn’t much need to learn, as you might imagine. It’s all so…” Rowan trailed off, fearful that he was boring the other male. With a small shrug, he said, “Well, I imagine you know all this already. You’ve been in my position. You know what it’s like.”

Once more his gaze flitted down to the blade. He dared not move to and attempt a thrust with the weapon, but he considered it. But the thought of moving his body in such a way felt wrong and entirely foreign. In both his mortal and immortal life, he’d never really wanted to harm anybody.

But more than anything, he didn’t want to die. And if he was faced with an opponent who meant to kill him, well…

When Emery spoke again, Rowan looked up in surprise. He hadn’t expected the male to extend an offer of assistance to him, welcome as it might have been. He smiled graciously, bowing his head slightly in thanks. “I would be honored for any help you might be able to give me.”

[emeryfrost]

Honored? Emery’s eyebrow raised in contemplation. He may be the most irritable and cockiest immortal boy to roam the country of Athoria but he knew damn well it wasn’t an honor to be in his presence. That privileged rested with Michael or Chandra, or even his Uncle Malcolm. Emery was nothing compared to them, even though the Queen always made it a point to tell him otherwise. If anything, Rowan should be running for cover, finding a clan to join and becoming an active member of vampyric society without the help of a lost Striga prince. 

Emery shrugged in reply, keeping his emotions casual and acting as though it weren’t a big deal...but it was, it really, really was.

“I don’t stick around long; couple days, at max once a month. I live in Night Haven and forge there, bring everything back on the occasion. There’s a demon named Adarna that works the shop and the forge here. If I’m ever not around she can help you. Unless you aren’t into feisty women, then I’d tell you to steer clear...she’d eat you alive,”

He chuckled to himself at the thought of Adarna sizing Rowan up for the taking. The succubus had a soft spot for vampires, especially ones as good looking as Rowan. Emery plucked the blade from Rowan’s hands and returned it to the glass case, setting it down nicely and closing it up. “I’ll be around tomorrow though, if you feel like stopping by,”

Emery turned, perfect smirk resting against his young features, and held out his hand, a very human and proper way to end the greeting. “I’ll see you around, Rowan,”

[shilohgarrett-blog]

Brothers Stand Tall || Emshi

[shilohgarrett-blog]

“Fuck you–” Shiloh responded easily, pushing off the stone archway to greet the shove his brother always gave him. The entire damn city of Nighthaven reeked in ways he always avoided if he could, and the fact this lone wolf brought out the attention in the vampire still came as surprise to his senses. Not that Shiloh expected less… not with Emery at least. He would just feel better being away from this town as soon as possible. The near constant internal battle of being around the vampyric species was always putting him on a bordering grumpy edge. 

“I have a lot to fill you in on,” he rumbled out, shifting his form slightly in step down the mountain beside Emery. They traveled slowly for them, Shiloh typically finding the pair running around at necessary speeds because life demanded them too. Not tonight. They were on his time so to speak and he was relishing the opportunity to keep it calm in tone even more so with all the news and catching up. 

“I went to England,” he said easily, as if those words weren’t the worse possible things to say to Emery. “Went with Ada and Ellis so I was fine,” he added quickly onto it to hopefully keep Emery from getting mad at him before they started their night. He toyed with his dagger while they walked, working out what and how he wanted to get everything off his chest. 

“I gave the book to Darius,” he said with a sigh, “he’s the only person I trust in England Em. He has the resources to break the codes locked on it’s pages. It’s the only way to speed this up without it falling in wrong hands.” He scratched the back of his neck with the handle of the blade, chuckling to himself. “Pretty funny right? Whatever– Darius Markham has always been there for me, all the way back since I was a human boy running around my mothers gardens and insisting the man eat things he couldn’t even enjoy. But who were meeting? I don’t know exactly, but I think it’s to do with the damn book. You get a letter too?” 

[emeryfrost]

“Darius,” Emery rolled his eyes in a grumble, annoyed at just his name and everything that he stood for. The two had never enjoyed the company of one another and that was just fine with him. He was probably dusting off his books and being pretentious, anyway. That lifestyle hardly appealed to the young prince, eager to get away from all of the riches that England possessed and how it so desperately tried to tug Emery along with it. 

Emery appreciated Shiloh’s honesty; he had known of the tournament in England and even spent a few nights contemplating on going himself. He had been to Nottingham only a few times during the reign of Anthony, when the King called his best to compete inside the ring. It was a glorious sight and something he’d never forget. But back then he did not have the energy to fight for glory; he felt undeserving and quite frankly he would probably get shunned for murdering his opponents without any dignity. Emery did not have a knights code or something of the sort to follow along with, and such things were important to the great country of England.

“Yeah, I know,” Emery replied with a sigh. “Adarna informed me that she was going so I could watch the shop, she might have slipped up and told me about your company. But you know you could have just told me. I think it was stupid and you could have gotten yourself in more trouble then you were expecting, but I’m glad you’re okay,”

Shiloh could handle things himself, he knew this. If trouble really had found its way in front of Shiloh’s path then the wolf was more than equipped to handle the repercussions. Still, it was unsettling to know that he could have faced those events alone, and without Emery at his side like they had promised each other they would be since that night in the mountain. Nothing was supposed to be faced without the other ever again; no tournament, no pack, no drunken fool from Brailston trying to pickpocket them for some gold. Nothing. It was him and his brother until the end.

“You can show me what happened later,” They reached the bottom of the hill and Emery flicked his tobacco on the ground, crushing it with his boot. “Letter said to meet him somewhere around here, guess he’s not interested in heading up to Night Haven. I’ll tell you what...have I got some fucking questions for him,”

[emeryfrost]

Personality Type || ESTP (part three)

Careers:

ESTP personalities trust themselves to make the right call. Risks, big and small, are a part of life, and ESTPs don't sit around waiting for some boss at the top to tell them what to do. 

Restrictions, rules, highly structured environments – these are great ways to drive ESTPs crazy. People with this personality type live life on their own terms, and this makes them brilliant entrepreneurs and freelancers.

Whether they are on the field as athletes themselves, coaching from the sidelines or commentating from high above, people with the ESTP personality type revel in well-honed team effort and a well-executed plan, and any of these positions makes a fine line of work for them.

Conclusion:

Few personality types are as charming and attractive as ESTPs. Known for their ability to improvise and focus completely on the present, ESTPs are great at finding exciting new things to explore and experience. 

[emeryfrost]

With Shiloh everything was different. An age difference of two centuries seemed only like two hours, two minutes, two breathes, two blinks of an eye to Emery because together they were just one spirit trying to make this life work, just trying to jump over a fucking wall. It was childish and playful and together it was necessary to smile among a world that wanted to rid them permanently and strip them of everything that they felt engraved into their skin, into their eyes, into their thoughts, into their mouths, teeth, claws, nails, flesh, everything. ( let’s storm the castle )

[emeryfrost]

Personality Type || ESTP (part two) 

Romance:

ESTPs' relationships are far from boring. Their improvisational style creates a seemingly never-ending list of activities and hobbies to be involved in, and ESTPs fully encourage their partners to partake. 

Sexually, ESTPs have no real reservations. It's fun, it's physically enjoyable, new ideas are always welcome, and ESTP personalities' strong perception keeps them well-tuned to their partners' needs.

As time passes, it can be challenging for ESTPs to move their relationships to deeper, more emotionally intimate levels. Easily bored, people with the ESTP personality type seek constant excitement – sometimes even intentionally exposing themselves to risk if they feel stuck.

Maintaining healthy relationships is the ultimate chance for ESTPs to exercise their talents in perceiving every change in their partners' mood and behavior, while also using their problem-solving abilities to address their needs.

Friendship:

ESTPs live in the moment, and as a naturally confident personality type (especially if they are Assertive as well), they don't worry much about what others think of them. This attracts friends who share their attitude and zest for life. 

Straightforward to the point of being blunt, ESTPs call it like they see it, and an honest opinion in debate is a sure thing. But at their hearts, ESTPs are people of action, preferring to do what can be done than to talk about what might someday be.

Exploration, excitement, adrenaline and risk – ESTPs' friends should be prepared for all of these things.

[emeryfrost]

Personality Type || ESTP (part one)

In General:

Laughing and entertaining with a blunt and earthy humor, ESTP personalities love to be the center of attention. 

ESTPs leap before they look, fixing their mistakes as they go, rather than sitting idle, preparing contingencies and escape clauses.

They live in the moment and dive into the action – they are the eye of the storm.

Also challenging is that to ESTPs, it makes more sense to use their own moral compass than someone else's. Rules were made to be broken.

With perhaps the most perceptive, unfiltered view of any type, ESTPs have a unique skill in noticing small changes. Whether a shift in facial expression, a new clothing style, or a broken habit, people with this personality type pick up on hidden thoughts and motives where most types would be lucky to pick up anything specific at all.

ESTPs are full of passion and energy, complimented by a rational, if sometimes distracted, mind.

Strengths

Bold – People with the ESTP personality type are full of life and energy. There is no greater joy for ESTPs than pushing boundaries and discovering and using new things and ideas.

Original – Combining their boldness and practicality, ESTPs love to experiment with new ideas and solutions. They put things together in ways no one else would think to.

Direct – This perceptive skill isn't used for mind games – ESTPs prefer to communicate clearly, with direct and factual questions and answers. Things are what they are.

Sociable – All these qualities pull together to make a natural group leader in ESTPs. This isn't something that they actively seek – people with this personality type just have a knack for making excellent use of social interactions and networking opportunities.

Weaknesses

Insensitive – Feelings and emotions come second to facts and "reality" for ESTPs. Emotionally charged situations are awkward, uncomfortable affairs, and ESTPs' blunt honesty doesn't help here. These personalities often have a lot of trouble acknowledging and expressing their own feelings as well.

Unstructured – ESTPs see an opportunity – to fix a problem, to advance, to have fun – and seize the moment, often ignoring rules and social expectations in the process. This may get things done, but it can create unexpected social fallout.

May Miss the Bigger Picture – Living in the moment can cause ESTPs to miss the forest for the trees. People with this personality type love to solve problems here and now, perhaps too much. All parts of a project can be perfect, but the project will still fail if those parts do not fit together.

Defiant – ESTPs won't be boxed in. Repetition, hardline rules, sitting quietly while they are lectured at – this isn't how ESTPs live their lives. They are action-oriented and hands-on. Environments like school and much entry-level work can be so tedious that they're intolerable, requiring extraordinary effort from ESTPs to stay focused long enough to get to freer positions.

[rowan--murdoc]

At A Glance // Rowan & Emery

[rowan--murdoc]

For all that he hadn’t picked up on since his rebirth among the undead, the hint that Emery made was clear enough. The man didn’t wish to speak about his past, and Rowan would respect that. Even if he could glean no other knowledge about clans or others from him, there was still something to learn from Emery.

He was not to be disappointed, taking the knife in hand when it was placed before him. It was a beautiful weapon, one that was crafted by an expert hand, and Rowan had to take a moment to marvel at the details. With human eyes he might not have noticed the intricacy, but now… Now it was all too obvious.

“Lex…” Rowan murmured beneath his breath as he tested the weapon’s weight. It felt comfortable in his hands, not too light or too heavy. He would be able to maneuver with it easily enough. Whether he would be formidable in any manner was another question entirely.

“It’s lovely,” he answered, a small smile curling at the corners of Rowan’s lips. “I can see what hard work you put into it, and I should hope I’d be able to use it properly, if it’s necessary.”

He hoped to God it wouldn’t be necessary.

But now came the task of learning to actually use the thing. That night with the King’s jailer had been one thing, but this… If he were meant to fight off a hunter, they would surely be more adept with a weapon than himself. He hesitated then, afraid to ask any more of Emery than he already had. “I presume you are…quite adept with many sorts of weapons then?”

[emeryfrost]

Seeing Rowan’s satisfaction made Emery’s ego bubble with anticipation. He knew that his work was top-notch, remarkable, extraordinary, and any other word he could find that painted his obviously beautiful craftsmanship quite nicely. It felt good to forge again and it felt even better to know he’d be helping out a fellow kindred. Even if Emery was not much for social interactions between his fellow fanged brothers, the light in Rowan’s eyes made Emery temporarily forget that he had shunned himself out of such friendships his whole life. He knew mostly of the elder life, being watched for years and judged, trained by the elders and comforted by the elders. It was all he knew these days.

Emery crossed his arms against his chest and nodded.

“I grew up with weapons; my father was a forger in my mortal life. He taught me everything, figured that if I were going to make the weapons I might as well know how to use them. I prefer a smaller blade, like Lex. I think with our speed and reflexes the shorter length gives us a better advantage. Then again, nothing really compares to the strength of our teeth...the weapon should be used to slow them down, make them submissive. The kill, on the other hand...that’s a different story,”

Emery wondered what it was about Rowan that made him so intrigued. He had seen his fair share of progenies come through the cathedral in London, all creations of Chandra and young...beautiful creatures that seemed to have it all together after their first night in this world. Rowan appeared lost, quite the opposite of those finely dressed kindred that Chandra introduced, only to send them away immediately. Who knew what they were doing for the Queen of the Striga...it made Emery wonder what good he was in Monir, standing with a vampire who was oblivious and frightened of his own specie. Could he make a difference here? Could Chandra be proud of him from afar?

Did it start with a simple glance, a flicker of resignation between two species who sought the same outcome? 

It was a profound moment, watching Rowan’s eyes as they admired his work, and Emery thought that maybe...maybe...it would do him good to have the company of another soulless kin.

“I can teach you...if you want,” 

It was a start.