Master

Chapter 41

I look to the newborns once more, struggling not to laugh at the terrified expressions they wore now. 

It was rare that I spent so much time with the young of our kind. They usually avoided me, unable to cope with the underlining traces of my power for too long and I understood that. But I wouldn't have the foundations of our clan be something sloppy or poorly constructed. 

So even if it was a little painful now, if my educating them now strengthened their futures and the clan's, then it was worth it.

I keep my laughter in and swallow my guilt as well to keep my outside appearance to them something neutral and calm. Sudden laughter would more than likely look insane and I didn't need them thinking the Pylen they just agreed to follow was crazy.

Not that it mattered, one conversation with my love and they'd think I belonged in an asylum.

"When I make your bodies move," I say pointing to a man at the front who's arm immediately shot up the way I wanted it to, "it's simply me connecting with that magic between the two of us - the Lyrra - and sending out a silent command through it."

"But it only goes one way?" The man asks while he visibly strains to lower his hand, but despite his grinding teeth and greatest efforts, his arm remained where I wished it to be.

"Yes," I confirm before releasing him, "before, that chain of command went from the witches to me and then to you. Now that they're dead, it's from me to all of you."

"And the witches are dead?" A young girl I could scent was recently turned asks. She had to be only a few months old, her bloodshot slightly rabid eyes made her look feral, but by the end of her first two years as a vampire, that would ease away. "T-They're all dead, right?"

"Yes," I assure her as gently as I can, adding an honest smile to it, "I killed them all in turn, cremated them and then cemented their ashes into the foundations of this castle."

The girl's arms tighten around herself just a little.

Perhaps my words weren't as reassuring as I'd hoped they would be.

As a newborn, she more than likely knew very little about our history, but if she was correctly following the programme Malcolm set the newborns on, soon enough she'd learn all she needed to know about our species and our history, and then she'd fight even harder for our future.

The Anouk youngest grew fiercer by the day, their resolve strengthened by the time they spent in the libraries and in the safety of a protected, growing clan.

At first, I'd been against enforcing such a rule onto them, but Malcolm had been unwavering in his plans to ensure that those under the age of one hundred spent the necessary time to learn their history properly. 

It seemed a little trivial to me, but even more than that, I'd wanted to avoid a number of pitiful looks in the halls or worse yet, ones forged from fear cast our way once they knew what we'd been through.

But, like always, Malcolm had been right so it wasn't very long before I agreed... albeit very reluctantly.

In the last two weeks, those worries had been put to bed soundly and I'd been quietly reminded to stop assuming the worst of every situation.

The newborns didn't look at me with pity or fear, there was only respect to be found as they nodded or bowed to me in passing. 

And in all honesty, it felt good.

"I raised this point about magic and our origins so you'd understand that there is a type of... network that runs between us all because of Lyrra." I explain while I try to find the simplest words to articulate myself well. "And in it, like any other network, data is stored somewhere within it."