Hey, Wattpad!
Thank you for all the votes, reads and comments. So,now we are winding up the Fates.

I will be using third person for the next chapter next week so that you can see Marcus' journey before the conclusion.

And I don't know if anyone wants to see this...but after finishing this novel I can post extras of Makayla's school life, her relationship with her family and of course...her chilling with Marcus on the holidays.

Anyway have a blessed week end everyone. 👨‍👩‍👧‍👦🦋

~Zeebeemuks. 👩🏾‍💻

Chapter will be out on Wednesday

Marcus growled as the scent died once more. He stared out into the frosted woods. The field a bitter white with the chilled air as the backdrop.
The only living, well, un-living being in the area was him.

He heard the frightened chirp of an endangered wolf's heart and heard the nervous clawing of a mother bear hiding nearby.

The wolf was hiding in an abandoned badger hole and the bear was in the scrub, exposed. Its ears laid back and shaking.

He felt tempted to feed and for once could see the appeal they had to Carlisle. He had gone too long without feeding. He had been abstaining ever since Makayla had been forced to return home to America, due to her illness.

He fed once every month since then...

Now even putrid animal blood called out to him strongly but he was here for another purpose.

Where was he?

Were Makayla's premonitions wrong?

Marcus, you're the only one I can tell this...I feel like if I tried to tell someone else I'd be institutionalised .

I...I had a vision one time when you said I was having a seizure...I saw this guy with black, long hair and greedy red eyes...he was a little guy.

He was following a taller man with softer features and warm, brown eyes...he called him Ambrogio.

They were in the mountains, on the outskirts of a small village that's now become a town.

He was being forced onto the ground by the little guy and then this woman with dark skin and thick, wavy hair wrapped a rope around his neck....it looked like they were trying to choke him.

I tried to scream at them but it was too late they had got him but instead of killing him they let him go. He lived but he couldn't leave the cave he was in...

And he had that rope on his neck...

Marcus shook his head. It was very vivid. She even saw Aro but didn't know it; had he changed that much, before they met?

"It doesn't! At least I know what I'm looking for is real..."
Aro had written down accounts of his creator and a witch who had helped him trap said creator in their birth country, Greece. But why was there any need to? Who was that man?

Was he the one who made Aro cruel?
He had to be. Marcus picked up the scent of despair and rotting potatoes. He followed it to the mouth of a cave.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Aro smiled deviously as he led his Master up the hill. As per his norm, his Master, walked with a strange hobble.of a wounded man despite his fit body.

Soon,I will be rid of this man...

Ambrogio turned to his adoptive son.
"Aro, where are we going? We have to continue south...the villagers they will know by now we were the ones killing off the men there."

"Yes, yes Master. I am aware of this. This is why I found this secure area for us to lodge for atime."

"How long?"

"Two days at most," lied Aro with a beatific face.
His Master nodded weakly and hobbled to his final resting place.

Goodbye, Master Ambrogio.

The woman, Desdemona, met with Aro outside the cave whilst his Master slept.
"I want you to know my maker is the first vampire. But do not be frightened. He is a weak, old fool."

"Naturally, I am not afraid. You shall be subduing him. I only need to draw his and your blood and then put this."

She showed Aro a thick rope that usually had a bell for cattle. It had a strange opal.

Aro frowned.
"You are jesting, of course?" he asked.
Desdemona shook her head, and her red hair waved.

"Not in the least....you do want to be free?"
Aro frowned.

Aro, my beloved one. You are the only thing I have now and I guess I am to blame...I had a coven once upon a time and then as we grew so did our need to hunt. We, vampires, cannot be social....that would lead to destruction.

My coven grew to one hundred and they slaughtered villages each night to sate their appetites. I was forced to destroy them all lest humankind die.

The humans recovered but their fear grew...I tried again...I made one named Amun, Vladimir and Stephanus. They disagreed with my philosophies of love for our food so they departed to different parts of the world to make their own disciples.

I was lonely for years until I found you dying in the gutters of a city. And we have been together ever since.

Desdemona called Aro repeatedly as he stared disconcertedly into the air. When she finally got his attention Aro was now out of his stupor.

"Let us start."

Aro led her in and he kicked the bones in the cave mistakenly. Ambrogio's eyes twitched open.

"Aro?"
Aro granted Ambrogio with no warning and Desdemona tied the rope around his neck. Ambrogio was still wide eyed.

"Aro," he cried.
Aro flung his full weight on his Master to stop him flailing out like a frightened calf.
"Desdemona, quickly!"

The woman strung the rope tight around the first vampire's neck. He choked and tried bucking.

But the rope was on. She took a flint knife and cut a slice into his face then she opened Aro's finger. Both monsters flinched.

She chanted:
"Blood of these monsters I command you to listen to my will. One who is first will now be last and the last shall be first.

In the sun you may walk but the first cannot.
In a house without a call you may enter but the first may not.
Cursed is the first to live with his curse alone."

Desdemona moved back. Day was breaking.
"Did it work?"
"Only one way to find out," she said listlessly looking to the rising sun.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A man with feral, brown eyes and elongated canines prowled around Marcus. He walked like a monkey. He had the offending odor of rotting potatoes!

Marcus listened to hear his heart There was none!
That man was not a normal vampire. He had blood but his heart was dead and he had eyes which were not red or yellow.

"Are you Ambrogio? "
The vampire growled and Marcus half expected a cat fight but then the vampire surprised him by sitting on the floor and shedding a single tear.

"What sort of creature are you? Vampires cannot cry."

"I am your kind, young one. But tell me; do you know my progeny? You smell just like him."

Marcus stepped closer cautiously.
"Who is your progeny?"

The man sighed.
"His name is Aro. I have not seen him in four thousand years."

Marcus froze.
"You, you are his creator? How can that be? where is your coven? And why are you living no better than an animal?"

The vampire sighed.
"How old are you?" he asked.
"Nearly four thousand."

"You're younger than Aro."
"No, Aro is not older. He is younger by many centuries."
The brown eyed vampire cackled.
"Is that what he told you?"

Marcus opened his mouth after furrowing his brows.

"I remember I found him alone and helpless...we build a coven together ... We both had creators who abandoned us..."

The first vampire spat his venom on the ground.
"Total nonsense. I never abandoned him. He betrayed me...he took me four thousand years ago into this cave and I have been trapped here ever since."

Marcus was owl eyed.
"Trapped? You can just walk out anytime."

A tear ran down the vampire's neck.
"The thing you took as legend, of vampires burning in the sun is very true."

"We don't burn we sparkle."
The first vampire paused. Then he laughed.

"That is...new. A vampire sparkling? What an embarrassment. Then Aro must have angered that girl he was with for this to happen."
Marcus sat on a black rock near the other vampire.

"Girl?"
"Yes, she helped him trap me here. Listen to me carefully and you will understand what is actually happening for once in your life."

Marcus nodded.

"There was a time I was alone...a time where vampires were not. I lived in Greece at the time as a poor man. The empire was vast, way before the Roman empire was conceived.

I was young and a little stupid...I still am."

The man smiled. The dirt on his face making it look fierce.

"I went to the temple one day to pray and I found this woman, much older than me...perhaps by some years I will never know now. She was black as the charcoal in a hearth and had hair like the texture of wool, but brown like burnt wood.

Her eyes were a little too wide for her face and she had big lips. She was being brought in chains; I think she was a Nubian slave brought in from Alkebulan.

She was nothing to look at...skinny and wasted. I moved on and looked for work within the city I was in ...I have long since lost the name.

I became an apprentice to a potter...not easy work and I would get meager pickings but I had shelter over my head and food at least. A month passed and my master and I went to the temple of Apollo for thanksgiving for the good reception his shop was receiving.

Then I could not believe my eyes. There was this woman in sheer cloth that exposed half her bosom. She had large breasts and buttocks and she was quite plump.

Her eyes were sad and she had burnt wood skin.It was the same slave I had seen last time. She looked better...the men were clamoring about her

They were offering many shekels for her. She shed some tears but it was futile really...she was a temple prostitute any man who gave her money she had to pleasure him.

My throat numbed at the sight. It was disgusting. She was no longer worth anything but the pleasure she gave men . I became disillusioned about Apollo and his godliness, if he could suffer someone so young for the thanksgiving rites.

I never returned again to offer prayers there. I think Apollo noticed my loyalty had fizzled. So too did my master's customers.

My master, one day, had to retire me from my work. He told me to make peace with the gods then I could come back.

I wandered the streets as a lowly beggar. I was hungry and dirty but no-one cared to help. Then she found me on the streets dazed and weak.

I don't know how she carried me but she did into one of the private chambers of Apollo's temple. She said she recognized me as a follower of Apollo, and as such she would help me.

She unclothed me and I squirmed. She promised not to do anything to me but bathe me. So, she did and she found a garb to clothe me in.

She nursed me to health until I was healthy. But unfortunately one day the head temple priestess found us together and I was pulled out and asked to pay for the blessings Apollo had given me. I spat in her face.

Apollo had done nothing for for me. It was all the doing of this woman. They would not budge. I almost became a temple prostitute myself...the males were popular amongst nobility...particularly the Emperor's ministers.

But she took the little she had and paid for me. It satisfied the priestess. But now that she had no money she had to prostitute herself again to be able just to eat.

My heart sank. I had done this to her. I tried to apologize but she said to me: "No, need to shed tears over me sleeping with a man. I am a prostitute. What else can I do?"