After a few minutes, Trisen used the chair she had fallen over to support her as she very slowly rose, pain rocketing up her left leg. She had forgotten about her finger until Trisen realized that blood was smeared all over her arm. Trisen sighed with exasperation.
        Trisen wiped away the blood on her left pant leg and limped painfully back to her room. Once in the room, Trisen wrapped her quickly swelling ankle in the blankets, trying to quill the agonizing pain. She looked around, forcing back the tears that were welling up in her eyes.
        “What? What did I do? I never did anything...! I never cast a spell, I never controlled his mind, nothing! What did I do?!” she cried to the dark walls.
        The silence echoed back to Trisen meanly, as though the walls themselves were cruelly teasing her. Trisen could still hear the vampire accusing her. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” he had yelled.
        Trisen curled up tightly and closed her eyes. Suddenly, the thought that the vampire may come back to try and kill her raced through her mind. Trisen barred the door with a magic wall that Vorador could go through, but nobody else would be able to penetrate. Even with the magic barrier up, Trisen still didn’t feel safe. She fell asleep, after hours of jerking her head up at the slightest sound, but even then, Trisen’s sleep wasn’t full sleep. Her mind was still haunted by the fact that if she were to set foot out of Vorador’s earshot or eyesight, the vampire may kill her.
        ‘Do I fear death?’ Trisen suddenly asked herself.
        “No…” Trisen answered. “I don’t... But...I am the last of my kind... And I don’t want my race to go extinct!”
        There was a creak in the hallway outside Trisen’s room and Trisen jerked up. Her face drained all color and Trisen’s eyes grew to twice their size. She shook violently in terror and fear of what may lay behind her room door. Trisen’s breath became quick and tight.
        Very slowly the door opened, which caused Trisen to grab a nearby letter opener as a weapon. She clutched the letter opener so tightly that her knuckles became snow white and thought of throwing it at her attacker. Vorador slowly walked into the room. Trisen sighed heavily and let the letter opener fall from her hand. Vorador stared at Trisen for a few moments with confusion etched on his features. But Vorador’s gaze soon fell upon Trisen’s swollen, purple, and very painful-looking ankle and her bloodied hand. The blood from Trisen’s severe paper cut on her finger had spread all over her hand. And now there were two dark bluish-purple bruises on the right side of Trisen’s neck and one bluish-purple bruise on the left side.
        “Trisen?” Vorador asked. “What happened to you?”
        Trisen was on the verge of blurting out everything, but she hesitated. What if the vampire was watching her? Could Trisen control him? Or was he out of her league? Either way, Trisen did not want to take the chance that the vampire may be watching.
        “I tripped over a chair,” she replied promptly.
        Vorador studied Trisen’s bruises.
        “But how did you get the bruises on your neck?” he pointed out.
        Trisen paused and gingerly touched her neck. Pain shot up through her spine, causing her to jerk her hand away in pain.
        “Uh...” Trisen tried wildly to think of a lie. She finally gave in and beckoned for Vorador to come closer. Vorador obliged and walked closer towards Trisen. Trisen stood on her knees and stared at Vorador. Vorador returned Trisen’s stare.
        “What?” he asked, slightly uncomfortable with Trisen’s cinnamon eyes staring holes through him.
        “I was just going to whisper in your ear...” Trisen answered.
        Vorador reluctantly bent over slightly and Trisen whispered softly how she had gotten the bruises. When she was done, Vorador didn’t want to believe her, but the bruises on her neck could be easily identified as from a vampire’s claws.
        “Do you know his name?” he asked.
        Trisen shook her head.
        “No... I was too scared to ask...”
        Vorador stood straight up, frowning in thought.
        “Hmm... Well, I don’t really know what to do... If you ever find out his name, tell me… Then I may be able to do something…”
        Trisen nodded, but she didn’t feel safe at all.
        “What if he attacks me again?” she asked softly.
        Vorador seemed slightly disgusted.
        “Use your magic,” he said, disdain in his tone. “Even if it is weak spells, that should be enough to at least startle him.”
        Trisen bit her bottom lip gently and nodded.
        “Okay… I’ll try...”
        Vorador turned to leave, but paused.
        “If all else fails, scream... I’ll come,” he added.
        Trisen nodded once again, this time, slower.
        “All right… Thank you...” she said, her voice not raising one decibel.
        Vorador didn’t reply and he disappeared, leaving Trisen feeling very alone.

        Trisen was surprised to feel tears start to burn her eyes. Why was she feeling like crying? Trisen asked herself the question over and over and was shocked to find that it was Vorador. Trisen was crying because Vorador hadn’t seemed to care. Trisen raised a hand and slapped herself across the face. Of course Vorador didn’t care! What was she thinking?!
        Embarrassment burning on her face, Trisen smoothed down her hair. A lock was missing…
        “Elzevir!” Trisen cried out involuntarily.
        But no, Elzevir hadn’t been anywhere near Trisen, had he? But wait, that man... The man that had attacked her. What if he had taken a lock of Trisen’s hair? But Vorador killed the man! He couldn’t have taken the hair back to Elzevir!
        Trisen shook her head violently.
        ‘You’re just paranoid!’ she told herself. ‘There’s no way Elzevir could control you!’
        Trisen shrugged and used her magic to hide the bruises upon her skin and temporarily heal her sprained ankle, since that was as far as her healing powers went.

        Trisen walked out of her room and went for the library to try and get her mind off of things. Her hand was above the doorknob when she heard voices behind the door. Trisen froze and slowly pressed her right ear to the door.
        “Sh!” hissed one. “We don’t want Vorador to hear us!”
        “Right, right!” another replied. “Malek sent us to get the witch and perhaps injure any vampire in the way. We are Sarafan after all…”
        Trisen gasped and staggered back, but she could also feel rage building. How dare they presume that she wouldn’t fight back!
        ‘But you haven’t.’ Trisen thought.
        The realization struck her with the force of a falling boulder. If she was so powerful, then why didn’t she fight back?!
        “Now I will…” hissed Trisen. “Whatever heaven there is better help these Sarafan…”
        Trisen lashed out angrily, focusing on the Sarafan. She heard screams of pain and the two Sarafan came running out, one burning and another slowly freezing. Trisen smirked and moved aside letting the two charge forward, screaming in agony.
        Eliza, a bride of Vorador, heard the commotion and came in--right into the path of the two Sarafan. The two were still conscious enough to know that a vampire was their enemy, and they readied their weapons. Eliza narrowed her eyes and crouched down, readying herself for an attack. Trisen cursed herself and electrified the two Sarafan with as much as she dared.  Eliza lunged forward and slammed her fist into the Sarafan’s stomach, making him double over and finally crumble to the ground, a burning ball of flesh and bone. The other Sarafan froze solid, giving Eliza a perfect opportunity to take his head off with a sharp kick upward.
        Eliza smoothed back her chocolate-brown hair and stared at Trisen with bright blue eyes.
        “Were they inside the mansion?” she asked warily.
        Trisen nodded, not knowing what to say. This was the first time she’d spoken to a bride of Vorador’s and she felt slightly shy.
        “Did you do that to them?” Eliza asked, studying the destroyed bodies.
        “Yes… I was sick of suppressing my powers,” Trisen replied sullenly, gazing at the floor.
        “Why were you suppressing them before?” Eliza asked.
        “I was afraid I’d hurt a vampire,” Trisen admitted. “If I did something like that, I’d be an outcast from both sides…  Humans abhor me, and if I were to get vampires mad at me, I wouldn’t stand a chance..”
        “So you’re not human?” Eliza inquired.
        “Not the human you’re thinking of. I look like a human, and I heal as slowly as humans do, but I can live forever and have superior magical powers to any human...or vampire... But vampires can control their magic a lot better than I can…” Trisen explained.
        “I see…” Eliza said, toying with a lock of her hair. “We should tell Vorador that there were Sarafan inside his house. Want to come?”
        Trisen paused, eyes wide.
        “All right,” she said slowly. “But I’m staying behind you… I think I got on Vorador’s bad side and I’m still on it…”
        Eliza pursed her lips and cocked her head slightly, but said nothing. She motioned for Trisen to follow and headed out of the hallway. Trisen jerked her gaze up and followed closely behind Eliza, worried that her assailant vampire might attack both of them. Eliza knocked on a door, and the two heard Vorador bid them in. Eliza walked in, but Trisen stayed outside of the room.
        Vorador looked up and immediately sensed something was wrong.
        “Eliza?” he asked. “What is it?”
        “Trisen found two Sarafan inside your mansion… She defeated them, but I thought I should tell you..,” Eliza said.
        “What?” snapped Vorador. “There were Sarafan inside?!”
        “Yes,” Eliza replied with a nod. “They were inside, but Trisen took care of them..”
        “Why were they-”
        Trisen’s sharp scream of terror made both vampires look towards the door. Eliza rushed forward to open the door, but before she could, Trisen ripped it open, jumped in, and slammed it behind her, her face white as snow.
        “Trisen?” Vorador inquired. “What’s wrong?”
        Trisen moved her mouth, but no words came out. Finally, after taking three deep breaths, Trisen managed to speak.
        “There...was...a...g-ghost! A ghost of something or someone!” she stuttered.
        Eliza looked confused and looked out the door. Trisen covered her eyes, expecting Eliza to shriek out in terror and pain. 
Instead, much to Trisen’s surprise, Eliza started laughing. Then Trisen heard Vorador chuckling as well. Had the two lost their minds?
        Trisen decided to chance a look and she peeked out between her fingers. She saw Jacquez laughing and shaking his head.
        “What?” Trisen asked, looking between the three vampires. “What’s so funny?”
        Eliza managed to speak between giggles.
        “That ‘ghost’ was Jacquez in mist form!” she laughed.
        Trisen ducked her head down, cheeks burning bright red. She put her hands behind her back, humiliated beyond measure.
        “You should have seen the look on your face!” Jacquez laughed. “Pure terror!”
        Trisen didn’t answer. She wanted to melt into the air and never be seen again. She looked up slightly at Vorador, who was chuckling softly to himself.
        “Don’t do that!” Trisen finally said to Jacquez, which only brought more laughter.
        Squeezing her eyes shut, Trisen begged some unseen force to whisk her away. Jacquez set his right hand on Trisen’s shoulder.
        “I didn’t expect to see you here… How’re you doing? Vampires treating you nicely?” he asked.
Trisen hesitated, but only a little.
        “Yes... They’ve treated me pretty good,” she answered promptly.
        Vorador relaxed slightly. He had feared that Trisen would make a scene of how her phantom vampire had attacked her so brutally. He noticed Trisen flinch slightly, but then become calm again.
        Trisen felt her healing magic wear off, her ankle beginning to pulsate in throbs of pain. Then Trisen remembered the bruises that the vampire had so relentlessly imprinted upon her throat. Thinking quickly, Trisen moved her hair around her neck, hoping to conceal the bruises, which contrasted sharply against her pale throat. Eliza, noticing Trisen’s sudden movement, gently put her claws against the left side of Trisen’s throat. Icy pain shot through her neck straight to Trisen’s mind, causing the young witch to cry out and move away. In her haste, Trisen forgot that her ankle was once more swollen from the severe sprain, and her ankle almost gave way to pain and sheer weakness. Eliza stared at Trisen, confused. Then she saw the thick bruises on her neck and gasped.
        “What happened?” Eliza cried. “Those resemble...vampire claw marks…”
        Vorador once more tensed slightly. He looked at Trisen, who had her back to him. Trisen merely shrugged and scratched the back of her head uncomfortably.
        “You’re looking at the clumsiest oaf in the entire land of Nosgoth. I tripped over my own two feet and fell into a chair.  The chair doesn’t give… My neck did, though,” Trisen lied.
Jacquez looked onto the other side of Trisen’s neck and cocked his head slightly in disbelief.
        “There’s two on one side and one on the other… How did that happen?” he inquired.
        “The chair rolled,” Trisen replied shortly.
        Jacquez shrugged half-heartedly.
        “If you say so...” he murmured, pushing a lock of short, black hair behind his left, pointed ear.

        Trisen slowly scooted out of the room, being as silent as possible. Vorador spoke to Eliza and Jacquez about the Sarafan and what to do if another attack was brought into his mansion. Once outside the room, Trisen fell against a wall, her ankle burning in agonizing pain. The hurt that spread on her ankle was so great that Trisen could hardly put any of her weight upon it, yet she managed to limp slowly to her room, where she proceeded to bite her tongue sharply to keep from screaming. The pain ricocheting up from both her neck and ankle was worse than any she’d ever experienced before from a mere sprain or bruise.
        Something soft ran over Trisen’s back, causing her to whirl around, her eyes darting back and forth. She saw nothing, but something on the side of the bed was glowing. The something was out of eyesight and curiosity got the best of Trisen. She slowly crawled across the bed and looked over. The something was a puddle of glowing silver liquid. Trisen stared at it for a few moments, and then a face began to appear. The same face that had been in the fire.
        The woman stared at Trisen a few moments before ‘speaking’.
        ‘Trisen... Don’t fear me, please...’
        Trisen cried out and fell back on the bed. The woman rose up out of the puddle, the silvery liquid staying on her as though it was her body.
        Trisen shrank back in terror. The woman had to be around six feet tall and her long hair was to the middle of her back.  Four wings, two demon wings and two angel wings, protruded from her back. On the right side, the angel wing was on the top and the demon wing was on the bottom, but on the left side, the demon wing was on top and the angel wing was on the bottom.  Yet the wings were so close together, Trisen knew that the wings most likely came from a single spot on the woman’s back.
        “Who-who are you!?” Trisen demanded. “What do you want with me!?”
        ‘Shhh... Is it necessary to shout?’ the woman asked, holding her right, index finger to her lips.
        “Yes it is! When some ghost keeps on haunting me, I have a right to know why and who you are!” Trisen shrieked back.
        Suddenly the woman disappeared, the liquid sloshing apart like water and dissipating as though it were evaporating. Trisen watched in disbelief. She was so engrossed in watching her ghost disappear that she didn’t notice the vampire coming up behind her.
        “I warned you, little ‘witch’…” he hissed coldly. “I told you if Vorador doesn’t change, I’ll kill you. Now it seems I must…”
        Trisen whirled around with a gasp and found herself staring directly into the eyes of her attacker. She immediately doubled up her fist and punched him in the face. The vampire fell back, roaring curses and covering his face.
        “Damn you!” he snarled.
        “No…” Trisen whispered. “Damn you... When fire mingles with blood, the fire burns brightly and devours the blood…”
        The vampire looked at her, and, for the first time, Trisen saw fear in the vampire’s face. She wouldn’t relent, though. He hadn’t when he’d attacked her, so why should she? Trisen focused on a sword that lay on the hearth board above the fire. She gently lifted the sword up then hurled it towards the vampire, the sword’s blade glistening in the firelight. The vampire rolled out of the way, but the sword whipped around and flew forward again, much faster this time. The sword caught the vampire’s shirt and pinned him against the wall. With a grunt of effort, the vampire tried to move, but the sword stayed embedded in both his 
shirt and the wall. Trisen raised her right hand and moved it across the floor. Large icicles rose up and twirled around slowly before Trisen jerked her other hand towards the captured vampire. The icicles glinted fiercely and plunged towards the vampire, who cried out and ducked his head.
        Trisen didn’t intend to kill the vampire, but she did want to show him that she was not to be attacked without retaliation.  She stabbed the icicles into the wall, without touching them, around the frightened vampire. She stood up off the bed, her cinnamon eyes glinting angrily. The vampire stared back at her with as much fright as her glare reflected her anger. Trisen raised both of her hands and a giant lightning bolt shot down from the ceiling and struck the icicles. The electricity connected with each other and the lightning formed a blindingly bright cage around the vampire, who was both awestruck and terrified. Trisen smiled innocently and shrugged.
        “Perhaps you now see that had I wanted to kill vampires, I would have done so already,” she said sweetly.
        About that time, Vorador, Eliza, and Jacquez came bursting into the room. The three stood in shock at the pinned vampire, who was too busy watching Trisen in fright. Eliza cautiously walked forward and stared at Trisen.
        “Did you...?” she started.
        Trisen turned to her, her expression calm. After a few moments, Trisen gave a smile to her audience and bowed. Eliza became white as snow and her blue eyes grew three times their normal size.
        “No…” she gasped. “No. That’s impossible! Can one child contain that much power?!”
        “You haven’t seen anything yet,” Trisen purred. “Imagine that much power as pure energy.”
        The thought frightened all four vampires. Vorador began to understand why the Circle was after Trisen so much. If this child could focus such power into straight energy, she would be a living apocalypse. Then another, more frightening thought struck Vorador. If Trisen could do all of that when she was only a child, what would she be capable of when full-grown? The idea was both frightening and mildly amusing to Vorador. He kept the thought to himself, though, as to not bring up unwanted alarm. He would wait until he could talk to Trisen privately.
        Vorador turned to the vampire, who’s hair was now standing straight up from the lightning zapping back and forth from the icicles, which, miraculously, hadn’t melted.
        “Mantrello!” Vorador exclaimed, realizing who the vampire was. “What are you doing? Why have you been attacking Trisen?”
        Mantrello narrowed his eyes, but kept his head down.
        “Sir, that little mortal has clouded your mind... If you were thinking correctly, you would never let a child of mortal blood in your mansion,” he replied solemnly.
        “Trisen is not of mortal blood,” Vorador contended. “She is a witch.”
        “Witch...mortal...what difference does it make, sir? She does not heal instantly, she looks mortal, and is bringing Sarafan down upon us…” Mantrello snarled, glaring at Trisen.
        “Can you not handle some mere warriors claiming to be Sarafan?” Vorador accused. “I also seem to remember that you resembled a mortal once. And because she does not heal as quickly as a vampire does not make her mortal...it only means that she is not vampire..”
        “Name three things that make her like us vampires.,” Mantrello challenged, still pinned.
        “She lives forever, barring external factors...wields magic like a second nature...and can morph into a myriad of different animals,” Vorador replied sharply. “What do you wish me to do? What will satisfy your anger against her?”
        “Kill her,” Mantrello stated instantly, his eyes wild with malice. “Kill the damned wretch…”
        Trisen froze, blood pumping through her veins at an accelerating rate.
        “As you wish…” Vorador answered.
        “What?!” Jacquez and Eliza cried.
        “Vorador, wait!” Jacquez begged. “Don’t kill her! Banish her from your mansion but please don’t kill her!”
        Vorador waved his hand sharply.
        “I will not hear of it. Leave, all three of you…” he growled.
        Vorador broke the magical encasement of Mantrello, and the three vampires left the room, Jacquez and Eliza defeated.
        When the three were out of the room, Vorador turned to Trisen, who was standing silently, her head down.
        “Do what you wish…” she whispered sadly.
        Trisen’s sixth sense felt Vorador raise his sword above Trisen’s head, and plunge it down-onto the floor beside Trisen.  After a few moments of terrified silence, Trisen looked up at Vorador, her eyes questioning.
        “You...but...why?” she asked quietly.
        “Did you actually believe that I would base my judgment upon some vampire’s wild tale? Mantrello is a strong vampire, but he is also thick-headed at some times… If what you say is true, then I would have felt you trying to control me, and I have felt nothing yet,” Vorador explained.
        Trisen looked at Vorador hopefully. She watched him for a few moments, as though she still didn’t fully comprehend what had happened. Vorador lightly tilted Trisen’s head, so as to see the bruises marring her neck better. Vorador shook his head slightly and moved his right hand across Trisen’s throat, the bruises disappearing. Even though he wasn’t skilled in healing magic, Vorador was able to draw Trisen’s healing magic from her and magnify it, permanently healing her bruises. Trisen looked at Vorador and rubbed her hands on the sides of her neck, realizing the bruises were gone. She smiled at Vorador in silent thanks, then she looked back over to the door.
        “But…” she said softly. “What about Mantrello? Won’t he be mad?”
        “Yes,” Vorador agreed. “Yes, he will… But I reserve the right to allow you to stay, and I will use that right…”
        Trisen nodded slightly.
        “Oh… I see... Just let me say this, if I cause too much trouble among the vampires, tell me and I will be sure to leave, either that or stay hidden.” she told Vorador.
        “That will not be necessary,” he replied. “This is my mansion, and I may deem whomever I wish worthy of staying.”
        Trisen watched Vorador exit through the door. She flinched as she heard Mantrello’s outburst, but he was soon silenced as Vorador snapped back at him. Trisen didn’t want to hear what was being said, so she changed into the nightgown that she had stolen from the nearest town. Sliding under the covers and pulling them over her cold body, Trisen let the softness of both the bed and pillows take her into sleep. The warm blankets enveloped her body and almost seemed to massage her to sleep.  Trisen was just about to doze off when she sensed somebody else was in the room. Her eyes snapped open and she saw Vorador standing over her.
        “Yes?” she asked drowsily.
        “I did not mean to wake you, but if you are going to be awake a little longer, there is something I want to ask you,” Vorador said.
        “Okay… What?” Trisen replied, sitting up.
        “When you said that you could channel all of your power into straight energy, were you talking about now or later on in your life?” the vampire inquired.
        “I was talking about now,” Trisen said. “But such an energy output would drain me to the point of idiotic weakness…”
        “Will your powers increase drastically as you get older?” Vorador asked, slightly apprehensive.
Trisen stared at him for a few moments before grinning widely. She nodded her head, her grin as big as ever.
        “Yes...” she answered slyly.
        “Hmmm… Is that the reason the Circle is after you?” Vorador interrogated.
Trisen’s cocky grin faded instantly and she shrugged unhappily.
        “I guess so... In truth, I don’t know why they’re after me...but I’m guessing that it’s my power they’re after...” Trisen whispered.
        “I did not mean to frighten you,” Vorador said promptly. “I was only asking.”
Trisen bobbed her head slightly in acknowledgment.
        “I know… It’s just... When the Circle massacred every last witch except for me, they turned it into a cruel pleasure,” Trisen murmured quietly.
        “That does not surprise me,” Vorador hissed angrily. “But what sadistic fun did they get out of slaughtering yet another innocent race?”
        “The Members held trials for the children… The adults were beaten brutally and then impaled on wooden stakes, displayed for all to see…” Trisen said sadly, remembering the incident.
        “What classified one as a child?” Vorador asked.
        “If you were fifteen or younger, you were a child...” Trisen explained. “The children were teased and mocked during the trial, and, naturally, they were as unfair as could be. Each one was found guilty of witchcraft and helping vampires, two of the most terrible crimes to mortals. The children were locked in a damp and dark cell and fed scraps that weren’t fit for maggots. 
Since they were only mere children, they were decapitated at the guillotine...not impaled..”
        Vorador shook his head in disgust.
        “Such murder is almost inconceivable... Nobody was spared.?” he asked.
        “No… I lived only because I escaped,” Trisen stated solemnly. “I escaped and fought back, tooth and claw… No others lived... I later went back and checked... There were six hundred, sixty-six witches, including myself, and all six hundred, sixty-five witches were impaled upon the wooden stakes.”
        “Is there a different name for male witches?” Vorador inquired.
        “No,” Trisen answered with a shake of her head. “A witch is a witch, male or female… Now there are certain categories that witches fall under, but no name given for a male or female separately...”
        “Categories?” Vorador questioned.
        “Yes… Certain witches were healers, others were skilled in defensive magic, others in offensive magic, and then others who dealt with status ailments, and, finally, the most powerful of our kind, the ones who could use any kind of magic. There were only four…” Trisen said quietly.
        “Four? Is one of them you?” Vorador asked, not minding getting this intriguing information.
        “Yes… I’m one of the powerful kind, known as the Solars...,” Trisen stated almost arrogantly.
        “What were the other groups?” Vorador inquired.
        “The ones who dealt with healing were known as the Golden Stars, the ones with defensive magic were the Moon Beams, and the ones with status ailing magic were the Sun Rays.. The most powerful kind, like me, only had one word for their name, the others had two.. Whether it was done on purpose or just coincidental I don’t know.”
There was a frantic knock on the door and Eliza came bursting in.
        “Vorador!” she cried. “There’s an army of Sarafan slaughtering a group of vampires and they’re working their way here!”