Ignotius rolled his eyes at the small explosion rocking the hallway. Smoke poured from underneath the door his knuckles were poised to knock on, and he sighed, sucking in a deep breath. He turned the handle without knocking, and the thick smoke wound around the door frame the moment he pushed. It filled the hall, choking a young passerby, but he paid no mind. He waved a hand in front of his face to clear some of the fumes, and he was startled by the huge, bespectacled blue eyes staring back at him. The old vampire was tired of the shenanigans, or at least he told himself that, but in his heart he knew he felt a certain fondness for the man across from him, even with his hair standing on end as it currently was. He sighed again, raising an eyebrow. “Master Isaac, will you be requiring human medical attention, or would you like me to call a healer?”
“Neither,” the man coughed, waving his hand in front of his face as well. He moved from behind the rather large beaker between them, and his face and eyes returned to normal size. “Just a small hiccup in the application of the giant blood.”
Ignotius moved to the window and flung it open, letting most of the smoke out into the campus.“Master Isaac, I believe you were taught first, never to do alchemy, or as the humans call it, chemistry, in view or earshot of said humans. Secondly, you are attempting to create a love potion; I would rather not know what you hope to accomplish with the introduction of giant's blood.”
Isaac smiled, trying in vain to smooth his light brown hair by running his fingers through it. “Hermes is a rather... small, fellow, isn't he?”
Ignotius remembered well the stories of old, how Aphrodite had pointed and laughed at the god's misfortune, but he had a hard time believing that Hermes was only now attempting to rectify his little problem. “Master Isaac, this is the third college Master Amaedus has had to pull strings to gain you admittance to. If you do not wish to attend one of our schools, then you will have to abide by the laws of the human world you cleave so dearly to. Speaking of which, I have no time for your games or sarcasm. Please, collect your things.”
Isaac laughed, fixing his crooked glasses, shoving them farther up his nose with a single finger. “Where are we going?”
“To Italy.”
He opened his closet and clothes spilled out and onto the floor, and Ignotius crinkled his nose. Even without his vampire senses, Ignotius knew that the fumes from those garments were worse than the failed giant's blood concoction. “Master Isaac, I know for a fact that Master Amaedus has appointed for you a maid, yet those clothes are soiled and rather pungent. Should I search for a replacement?”
“No no,” he said, disappearing into the closet. “I don't like having other people do things for me, especially washing my underwear.”
Ignotius nodded even though he knew it would not be seen by the young man, and moved closer to the window, hoping that he could catch a breath of unsoiled air.
Isaac reappeared a moment later with a black duffel, a long jacket, and a few vials filled with different color liquids. “I guess Amaedus found 'em?”
“He did. We are going back to the estate to collect a few things, then to Naples.”
This gained a raised eyebrow from him. “There are millions of people in Naples. Have there been any deaths?”
Ignotius was getting tired of the questions. “Of course there have been. Seventeen that we know of. Ripped to shreds, with the heart missing.”
“Right,” he said, walking towards the door before snapping his fingers and turning back to the closet. “Won't get very far without this.”
He reached into the mess of clothes, papers, and books, and pulled an amulet free, hanging it around his neck. Ignotius peered at the object, noticing the visage of Athena engraved into what looked like gold. “And that is?”
“I don't know which language they'll speak. This will allow me to understand them no matter what.”
Ignotius nodded, understanding why it held the image of the goddess of wisdom. “We must be off.”
Isaac nodded, walking out of the room and into the hallway. He popped his head back in a moment later, staring quizzically at the old vampire still standing in the messy room. “Are you coming?”
Ignotius shook his head. Isaac was known to be absent-minded, but this was ridiculous. “You do realize of course that the palace is fifteen hours by plane?”
Isaac was obviously confused. “So?”
“We need to arrive in Naples within two hours, before night falls.”
The young man obviously did not get his meaning, shaking his head and raising his eyebrows as though Ignotius was the one being difficult. “And how do you propo-oh.”
The vampire saw the gears in his head click together, and the smile fell from his face. “Sorry,” Isaac said, “long day.”
Ignotius held out his hand in reply, and Isaac grasped it, squeezing his eyes shut tightly. “I hate this part,” he moaned.
“Oh yes, by all means, Master Isaac, let us take a plane and let more bodies pile up because you do not enjoy teleportation.”
Isaac cracked an insubordinate eye open, but Ignotius simply pursed his lips and concentrated, pulling them into the ether with a single thought. The air was forced out of Ignotius' lungs, but being that he did not need to breathe it did not affect him. He knew full well what Isaac was feeling though, and he did pity the young man. When traveling by teleportation, the air pressure was enough to crack ribs if not done carefully, and he knew the sorcerer was struggling for air. He would have abundant amounts when they landed, but while in the vortex there was none to be had.
Ignotius toyed with the idea of keeping them in the ether for a few seconds longer, but knew that even if Isaac did not realize, Master Amaedus would. While the king would not dare reprimand him, he would give him the look he so hated. Single eyebrow raised, lips in a thin line, eyes burning with disappointment. Ignotius allowed himself the odd smile while he knew Isaac could not see, and landed them directly in Amaedus' office, doing his best to jar the man a smidge.
Isaac was definitely not used to such travel, and collapsed to the floor as soon as his feet were corporeal again. Amaedus was seated behind the desk, pen in hand, scribbling furiously at a large stack of paper at least three feet high. Signing his name quickly, he would discard one sheet and lift the next, sign again, then repeat the process. He looked up when Isaac coughed, and looked quizzically at Ignotius. “Why does he smell of giant's blood?”
Ignotius frowned. “He was trying to enlarge a certain part of anatomy.”
Amaedus' eyebrows shot up. “Okay? I think I will pass on the minutia.”
Isaac's hand shot up into the air, his face still in the carpet, voice straining as he struggled to pull oxygen into his starved lungs. “Not mine!”
Amaedus nodded slowly, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “Right. We will be off as soon as I can finish this stack of paperwork,” he said, shaking his obviously cramping hand.
Ignotius' frown deepened and he shook his head at the frivolity of youth. “If you had attended to your duties when they first crossed your desk, you would not have had to do it now. I would apologize for the inconvenience, but truly, it is your own fault.”
Amaedus rolled his eyes while Isaac picked himself up from the floor, a single hand on his chest. “Hey, bud,” he said to Amaedus, who smiled.
Ignotius could not sit idly while such atrocities went unchecked. “Master Isaac,” he said, voice dripping with exasperation. “You can not refer to the king of vampires and the entire supernatural world as 'bud.' Please refrain from doing so, and show the proper respect and reverence.”
Isaac guffawed, walking around the desk to peer over Amaedus' shoulder. “Ignotius, please. I'll call this silly old bastard anything I please. If he has a problem with it he can try to sink those weak little fangs of his into me.”
Amaedus chuckled, never taking his eyes from his work. “Hey, you leave my 'weak little fangs' out of this. They're just fine the way they are.”
“Yeah right,” Isaac laughed. “Is that what Cyan told you? Hell, she's queen now, so she'll tell you anything you need to hear to keep her position, even that your little fangs are perfect, and she thinks big ones would hurt too much.”
Amaedus elbowed his friend in the gut, and Isaac doubled over, coughing again but laughing all the while. “Isaac,” a female voice said, and Ignotius turned and bowed as quickly as possible. “Can we keep off of the subject of my husband's fangs? They are fine just as they are.”
Isaac blushed, turning to Cyan and bowing too, though not as low as Ignotius. “Cyan, it is a pleasure to see you.”
“And you,” she replied. “What brings you to visit? It has been far too long.”
“The thing in Italy,” he said, taking her hand and planting a quick kiss on her knuckles.
“Ah. And you aim to stop them?”
“We do,” he replied, laying a hand on Amaedus' shoulder.
That prompted a frown from her, and her eyes shot to Ignotius, who nodded slightly, and she visibly relaxed. “As long as you promise to keep safe. You are not all powerful you know.”
“Not all powerful, yet” he corrected with a wink. “Getting there though.” As though to prove his point he waved a hand, and the papers on the desk ruffled, and Amaedus lifted the one he held into the air, and Ignotius could see his signature clearly written into the parchment. Amaedus looked at a few more in the pile, and Ignotius saw that all of them had been signed with a perfect forgery of the king's signature.
“Master Isaac,” he scolded. “You would not do the king's work for him please? He must learn at some point in his unnaturally long life to do his own work with no procrastination or help.”
Isaac winked at Amaedus but spoke to Ignotius, holding up a palm. “Never again, scouts honor.”
Ignotius scoffed and turned toward the door to attend to his other duties, and made it into the hallway before Cyan stopped him by calling his name. She too had left the room, and she hurried over to him. “Please, Ignotius, tell me you are going with them.”
“I am, my lady. I will keep them safe, on my life you have my word.”
She opened her mouth to speak, but a crackle of compressed air caused them both to turn and look farther down the hallway, to where Master Damon could be seen running as fast as his little legs would carry him, a pretty young woman with black hair gaining on him, a large halberd in one hand. The crack had been the two of them teleporting into the palace, and now Damon wore a large smile. She wore a skintight leather suit, and Ignotius recognized her as a Hunter.
Damon giggled in his high pitched voice, running all the faster, but the woman poured on speed as well, still gaining.
Ignotius stepped forward to deal with the woman obviously trying to kill his prince, but Cyan hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Let it play out.”
“Damon!” Cyan called, her voice stern. “You let that young woman be! Have you not done enough to her?”
Damon skidded to a stop in front of Ignotius and his mother, grinning wide. “You're right mother, but this is different.”
The woman caught up to him then, stabbing the deadly halberd into his back, and lifting his little body into the air with a scream of triumph. Her eyes burned with hatred, and she stared at the two vampires looking placidly on with a burning hatred, as if daring them to interfere. “And how is this different?”
Damon grinned even wider, his little body sliding back onto the twisted blade of the weapon, blood pouring from the wound, the smile looking as though it would crack his frozen-at-eight-years-old face in two. “Mother, I'm in love. Meet Claire.”
With that he teleported the two of them again, and Ignotius frowned, knowing how hard blood was to remove from the three thousand year old carpets they were standing on. “That will never work,' Ignotius said.
Cyan looked at him from the side of her eyes. “Of course it won't. He killed her entire family and village, and now leads her on merry chases in which she finally kills him, except two weeks later he pops back up in front of her, taunting her with the fact that he still lives. She burned him on a funeral pyre last week.”
“Mom?” a little voice rang, and both turned to see young Master Adrian rubbing his eyes, looking very sleepy and cute in his He-Man pajamas. “Who was that woman trying to stab Damon?”
Cyan picked the little prince up and he nestled into her neck. “No one, dear, just his girlfriend.”
Master Adrian made a face, sticking his tongue out. “Blech. Girls. I'll never have a girlfriend, that tries to kill me.”
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Author's Note:
Hi there! Caitlin here. Nice to see you guys again. This fun little story is a project I'm working on with GhostNinja, and by project, I mean that he's doing all the writing and plot-stuff while I tell him what is and isn't canon. You could also call it fan fiction, since that's basically what this is, except that it's authorized and canonical.
Just so you know, I have absolutely no idea what's going to happen in this story. He's writing all of it, and refuses to tell me anything whatsoever.
This story is going to generally be slow to update, as GhostNinja has several other projects that he is working on, in addition to having a life.
All I can promise is that it's going to be funny as hell, and that it will be awesome. So, enjoy, because I certainly am.
Also, one last note: If you read Stories Under the Velvet Sky, you will notice some inconsitencies with the canon. That is because SuTVS is in severe need of editing and has to be brought up to date with how things currently stand in my head. For now, know that Sins of The Father is in line with the actual canon.
Ciao!
Caitlin A. Patton