"Why do you think I care about you so much? Somehow when I was using one of the slave girls, my blood mingled with hers inside of her womb without killing her. And then you were born, and that was the start of a plan that went in a direction completely different than any other before."

"No..."

"And then the Horus worshippers, they had help from your mother, and stole you away, apparently to raise you as their own weapon, just as you would have been to me. You're nothing but a defective weapon." What neither my father nor I noticed was Emma making her final gun as she died in my arms. "You talk too much." I saw her the barrel of the gun flash in the corner of my eye, and then watched as pieces of my father's chest flew out of him, spreading across the stone floor in front of me. "Emma, no!" I threw my gun across the room and it made an echoed thud as it hit the ground. I started pumping on her chest, trying to get her breathing again. "No, no no!" I grabbed a wineskin from the table, pouring out all of the wine and filling it with the blood from some of the dead lords. Then I cut open her arm, holding the wineskin of blood against her fresh wound. "She just needs more Lord's blood, and it'll kick start her regeneration again!"

I tried relentlessly to find a way to bring her back by searching through the alchemic books in the five Lords' castle libraries, but I found nothing, and eventually gave up, burying her body in the catacombs of the castle where she died. The remaining years that lead up until now were bland and long, with little to do, and little to live for. I've had nothing to do, so I read in the vast libraries, learning from each book for to become more and more powerful, and how to some extent, even augment what powers I have.

That is, until now. As I searched through the endless shelves of dusty and worm-eaten books, I went to pull one of simply labelled, Eleven, and instead of simply coming out of the shelf it shrunk back into wall behind with a soft click, followed by the loud grinding of gears and pulleys as a piece of the wall next to the shelf tipped over and shattered, revealing a hidden room that was filled with dust, and more importantly, more books and scrolls to do be scoured for new information. I read the books there for some time, and though most of them were just compiled notes of old lore and stories passed down by the Lords, one scroll that looked very fascinating was a book that looked just like the one that I had attempted to read but turned out to be a secret switch.

Looking closer, I realized that it, too, was labelled Eleven, and was filled with wonder at what might be inside. I read the incredibly thick book nonstop for two days without eating or drinking, and could hardly believe what was inside. It spoke of an Eleventh Lord, one that had a secret power that none but the author and knew of; the power to bring back the dead. I couldn't believe my incredible luck. I could bring back Emma, and I could bring back my family, which most importantly meant I could be with Mother Cerdwin again. The book spoke a hidden place hidden near a mountain, a place deep underneath it where the undying Eleventh is waiting to be awoken from his sleep. Awoken from his sleep. Maybe the Eleventh is vampiric, like the First Lord?

I knew I needed to catch up on sleep after pulling an all-nighter two days in a row, but I was too excited, and went to the armories, equipping the best armor from each and strapping a greatsword and a rifle to my back. Stepping out of the castle, it was a full moon, and the wind blowing in my now shoulder-length hair, nearly knocking my hat right off my head. 

AUTHOR TALKING HERE!

so, this is all i have so far, and as of now i am writing out the plot of the next arc. but its more likely that I'll just scrap this and start something new unless enough people want this to continue.

still, i would also enjoy critique on what went right with this story, as well as what went wrong.