Mistakes Were Made, Myths Were Born (Urd & Ky)
The streets of Moscow glittered under a veil of snow, their edges softened by the festive glow of countless lights. It was Christmas in 1975, and the city hummed with life despite the biting cold. Crowds bustled through Red Square, wrapped in heavy coats and scarves, their laughter and chatter blending with the faint strains of carolers singing nearby. The massive tree in the square's center was adorned with vibrant ornaments, its branches shimmering in the soft glow of a thousand twinkling bulbs.
Through the crowd walked two figures who seemed untouched by the holiday cheer. Urd Geales and Ky Luc, progenitors of the vampire race, moved with a grace that set them apart from the mortals around them. Urd, ever composed, exuded an aura of authority that made people instinctively move out of his way, though they could not say why. Ky, on the other hand, sauntered with a casual arrogance, his sharp smile hinting at his penchant for mischief.
"Such a lively atmosphere," Ky remarked, tilting his head to admire the decorations. "Almost makes me nostalgic for all the times you've punished me for disobedience, Lord Urd."
Urd sighed softly, his crimson eyes fixed ahead. "Must you always bring this up, Ky?"
Ky grinned, undeterred. "How can I not? It's the holiday season. A time for reflection. And I've got centuries of lessons courtesy of your... unique methods."
Urd said nothing, his expression unreadable, but Ky pressed on.
"Remember Romania? Sixteenth century. We were there to enforce the laws on those traitors who dared to build a hidden city without permission. All was going smoothly until—oh yes—I got a little... careless."
"A little?" Urd finally spoke, his tone icy.
Ky smirked, enjoying the memory far more than he should. "Fine. Perhaps a lot careless. Feeding from a human in a nearby village that believed in folklore was ill-advised. How was I supposed to know their chief would find the fang marks and launch a crusade? It wasn't my fault they almost stumbled upon that vampire city."
Urd stopped walking, his crimson gaze fixing on Ky with a look that sent a shiver even through the Fifth Progenitor.
"And do you recall," Ky continued, undaunted, "how you handled that situation? Oh, I do. Quite vividly. You cut off my head, let it roll around for a bit, reattached it, and then sliced it off again just to make a point." He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck as if the memory still lingered there. "Safe to say I've avoided causing chaos near vampire cities ever since."
"You would do well to remember the weight of your actions, not the theatrics of your punishment," Urd replied coolly, resuming his stride.
"But the theatrics are the best part," Ky countered, easily keeping pace. "Like in England, during the witch hunts. Those mortals were terrified, thought the devil himself had descended upon them. But no, it was just me, being hungry and lazy. Honestly, who has the energy to hide their feeding when there's so much drama to enjoy?"
"And I suppose you also remember your punishment for that," Urd said, his voice laced with subtle menace.
Ky's grin faltered slightly. "Oh, yes. Eye-opening, you might say. Literally. You struck at my eyes for not seeing the seriousness of the situation. Quite poetic, really. Your sense of humor has always been... special."
Urd halted abruptly, turning to face Ky. His imposing figure seemed to loom larger in the snowy glow of the streetlights.
"I remember every one of your missteps, Ky Luc," he said, his voice low and dangerous.
Ky's smirk wavered, a flicker of nervousness crossing his face. "Of course you do. How could you not? I've given you so many to choose from."
"And your recklessness," Urd continued, his voice cutting through the festive air like a blade, "has created real vampire myths—most of which we are still dealing with today."
Ky raised a hand in mock surrender. "Now, now, let's not act like I'm the only one who's ever been a little... creative."
"You are not just anyone, Ky Luc," Urd said, his tone sharp. "You are the oldest of the reckless. Half the legends humanity believes in can be traced back to your inability to stay in the background."
Urd's gaze bore into Ky with an intensity that could have frozen the snow midair. The crowd around them seemed oblivious to the charged moment, their festive chatter and laughter a stark contrast to the dark tension between the two vampires.
Ky, ever the provocateur, held up his hands, a sly grin creeping onto his face. "Alright, I'll admit, maybe I've been... a little flamboyant over the centuries. But can you really blame me? Mortals are so gullible. One whisper in the right ear, one shadow at the edge of their vision, and suddenly you have an entire village convinced vampires can't enter a house without an invitation."
Urd's expression didn't shift, but there was a flicker of disdain in his eyes. "I had my doubts but it was really you. How many lies have you plates over the last millennia?"
Ky tilted his head, feigning thoughtfulness as he fell into step beside Urd. "Oh, let me think. How many lies have I spun? Too many to count, I'm afraid. But that's the beauty of it, isn't it? Humans love their little myths. I merely... embellished them."
Urd sighed, his breath misting in the cold air. "The invitation myth was particularly idiotic."
Ky smirked, his crimson eyes gleaming. "Idiotic? It worked splendidly. The mortals felt safe in their homes, clinging to the illusion that their doors could keep us out. It gave them hope. And when we ignored those imaginary boundaries—well, the looks on their faces were priceless."
"And the garlic?" Urd's tone was laced with disapproval, though Ky could hear the faintest trace of exasperated amusement.
"That was a masterpiece," Ky declared, spreading his arms as if presenting a grand work of art. "They already feared the unknown, so I figured, why not give them a harmless talisman? Something utterly useless but so ridiculous that it'd stick. Garlic—it stinks, it's common, and it makes them feel powerful."
"And yet it made us appear foolish," Urd countered. "Do you know how many times I've had to endure humans waving cloves of garlic in my face as if it could harm me?"
Ky chuckled, his laughter echoing off the snow-dusted buildings. "Oh, come on, Lord Urd. Even you must find that a little funny."
"No," Urd said flatly.
Ky sighed dramatically, placing a hand over his heart. "You wound me with your lack of appreciation for my creative genius."
"Creative genius?" Urd repeated, his tone icy enough to match the Moscow winter. He turned his gaze to Ky, his crimson eyes narrowing with the weight of centuries of disdain. "Your 'genius' has caused more trouble than any entity ever could."
Ky grinned, brushing off Urd's icy glare like snow from his coat. "Trouble? Come now, Lord Urd. You call it trouble, I call it entertainment. Humans are like clay, so malleable, so eager to believe anything that gives their mundane lives a hint of magic." He twirled a finger in the air, his smirk widening. "Admit it, some of their myths are quite charming."
Urd exhaled a long, slow breath, the mist curling in the air like a ghost. "Charming is not the word I would use. Dangerous, perhaps. Pathetic, certainly. But not charming."
"Dangerous?" Ky tilted his head, feigning innocence. "Oh, do elaborate. Was it dangerous when they thought sprinkling salt at their door would keep us out? Or when they held up crucifixes as if that would burn our skin? Really, it's adorable. Like a kitten hissing at a lion."
Urd gave Ky a sidelong glance, his crimson eyes gleaming faintly in the festive lights of the square. The snowflakes settling on his dark coat only added to his ethereal presence. "Adorable? A kitten hissing at a lion may be amusing once, but when the kitten rallies an army of fools with pitchforks and torches, it becomes tedious."
Ky barked a laugh, his voice carrying a sharp edge of amusement. "Oh, my lord, you do have a way with metaphors. But wasn't it you who said that humanity clings to hope, however misguided? Their desperation is what makes them interesting. The drama, the fear—it's all so delightfully human."
"Delightful is not how I would describe it," Urd replied flatly. "And their fear, while predictable, has led to unnecessary complications. Do you recall Budapest?"
Ky's smirk widened, his sharp features lighting up with mischief. "Oh, Budapest. How could I forget? That sorcerer's cult with their grand circle of protection. I've never laughed harder in my entire existence."
Urd slowed his pace, his boots crunching softly against the snow. "It was your idea to humor them, Ky. You encouraged their foolishness."
Ky raised a hand in mock protest. "Encouraged? My lord, they didn't need my help. Their leader was so convinced his spell could hold us at bay. The look on his face when you stepped over the line without so much as a flicker of hesitation... priceless. He went paler than the snow."
"And then you slaughtered them all," Urd said, his tone as cold as the winter air. "Carelessly."
Ky shrugged, unabashed. "Well, yes. But only after you gave the order. Don't tell me you weren't at least a little entertained by their faith in that chalk circle."
"It wasn't faith," Urd corrected. "It was ignorance."
Ky's grin didn't falter. "Call it what you like. Ignorance, faith—it's all the same to them. They believed in their myths, my lord, and you shattered their illusions with a single step. It was... poetic." Ky clasped his hands behind his back, pacing slightly in the snow-dusted square as if savoring their conversation. "Do you remember how the leader screamed about curses and divine wrath? He begged the heavens for retribution as if it would stop us."
Urd's gaze shifted to the towering Christmas tree in the distance, his tone clipped and even. "I remember their screams. They were unnecessary."
"Unnecessary?" Ky echoed, turning to face Urd with an exaggerated look of shock. "My lord, those screams were the best part. The sheer disbelief as their carefully constructed fantasy crumbled before their eyes? If that's not theater, I don't know what is."
Urd's expression remained impassive, though his eyes narrowed slightly. "Theatrics do not interest me, Ky Luc. What interests me is efficiency. If humans must die, it should be quick and without spectacle."
Ky laughed, his breath fogging in the cold air. "And here I thought you had no appreciation for art. Quick and efficient might work for you, but where's the fun in that? Humans thrive on stories, and every good story needs drama. Do you really think anyone remembers the efficient kills?"
"They remember enough to survive," Urd said, his voice cutting through Ky's laughter like a blade. "And survival is the foundation of their myths. They imagine monsters they can conquer, evils they can overcome. It gives them hope."
Ky rolled his eyes, walking backward in front of Urd so he could face him. "Hope, hope, hope. That's all they ever cling to. What about fear, my lord? What about awe? Doesn't it serve our purposes to let them tremble a little longer, to let their imaginations run wild?"
"Fear is fleeting," Urd replied, his tone unyielding. "It breeds desperation, and desperation leads to recklessness. Awe is irrelevant. What matters is control."
Ky grinned, spinning on his heel to walk beside Urd again. "Control, efficiency, survival. You make it sound so... dull. No wonder you've become the prototype for their so-called vampire aristocracy. All those noble myths, the untouchable lords of the night? That's you to a tee."
Urd glanced at Ky, his gaze cool. "I had no hand in their romanticized notions. If anything, you are the source of their embellishments."
"Me?" Ky gasped, pressing a hand to his chest as if wounded. "How can you accuse me of something so... accurate. But come now, Lord Urd, you can't tell me you've never toyed with them. Not even once?"
"I have not," Urd said flatly. "Their myths are born of ignorance and misunderstanding. Most descriptions of us are wrong."
"Oh, I'm sure," Ky said, waving a hand dismissively. "The garlic, the holy water, the mirrors—all nonsense. But you have to admit, they got some things right."
"Such as?"
Ky smirked, counting on his fingers. "The need for blood, our strength, burning in sunlight... though they don't know about the protective gear. But my favorite wrong myth one is the wooden stake to the heart."
Urd's pace slowed, his expression remaining as unreadable as ever, though there was a faint glimmer of disdain in his crimson eyes. "The stake to the heart," he repeated flatly. "Pitiful. The idea that something as mundane as wood could destroy a vampire is laughable. Yet humans cling to it with desperation."
Ky let out a bark of laughter, throwing his head back in exaggerated mirth. "Oh, that one always gets me. Do they think we're garden pests, Lord Urd? What's next? Perhaps a bit of silver polish to ward us off?"
"They understand nothing of what we are," Urd replied, his voice as cold and sharp as the Moscow winter. "Their myths are a reflection of their own fear, nothing more."
Ky grinned, his crimson eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh, I agree. But let's not dismiss the sheer creativity of it all. A sharpened piece of wood—why not a butter knife or a candlestick? I'd have more respect if they tried using a tree. At least then they'd have ambition."
Urd gave Ky a sidelong glance, his expression unchanging. "How did you come up with that particular absurdity, Ky?"
Ky gasped in mock offense, placing a hand over his heart. "Me? Oh no, my lord. That one wasn't my doing. Even my imagination has limits, as vast as it is. No, that was all them—those clever little humans. Though I'll admit, I may have... encouraged the belief on occasion."
"Encouraged it," Urd echoed, his tone devoid of humor. "Of course you did."
Ky shrugged, unrepentant. "What can I say? It's delightful to watch them wave their sharpened sticks like some holy weapon, only to realize their mistake far too late. But really, don't you think it's time we gave them a bit of credit? They've evolved, after all. They're no longer just cowering in their huts and telling ghost stories. They've moved into more... advanced territory."
"They've traded superstition for science," Urd said, his voice a quiet rumble. "And yet they remain just as ignorant."
"True," Ky conceded, adjusting the collar of his coat as the snowflakes settled on his shoulders. "But their ignorance has given us some rather entertaining stories. Myths may no longer rule their world, but they've found new homes in novels, moving pictures, even music."
Urd gave a faint shake of his head, the barest hint of disapproval etched in his features. "And you would revel in those portrayals, wouldn't you, Ky?"
"Absolutely," Ky replied with a flourish, throwing his arms wide as if presenting the snowy cityscape itself as his stage. "Can you imagine? A modern world where vampires like us have become their romantic ideals? We're dark princes, tragic heroes, brooding lovers. They fear us, yes, but they also desire us. Truly, Lord Urd, we've won the cultural game."
"Only you would see such an outcome as a victory," Urd muttered, resuming his stride.
Ky fell into step beside him, the grin on his face widening. "Tell me, Lord Urd, have you ever considered embracing the theatrics for a night? Just for the fun of it? We're in Moscow, the heart of stoic grandeur. What better place to indulge in a little melodrama?"
Urd's crimson gaze flicked toward him, unimpressed. "What nonsense are you suggesting now?"
"Halloween," Ky announced, his grin positively devilish. "It's not traditionally celebrated here, but imagine: you, dressed as one of their ridiculous vampire caricatures, cape and all. I'd don a skeleton costume—perhaps add some glitter for flair. We'd be the talk of the town!"
The Second Progenitor's silence was deafening. He continued walking, his footsteps crunching softly against the snow, while Ky struggled to contain his laughter.
"I can see it now," Ky continued, undeterred. "You, standing at the center of Red Square, fangs bared, declaring, 'I want to suck your blood mortal!' Oh, the horror on their faces. It would be—"
"Enough," Urd interrupted, his voice calm but carrying the weight of centuries. "If you have finished your ridiculous proposal, I suggest we focus on reaching our residence without further delay."
Ky sighed dramatically, his breath fogging the air. "You're no fun, my lord. Always so serious, so proper. One day, I'll find a way to coax a smile from you, even if it takes another millennium."
They walked in relative silence for a time, the city's festive atmosphere seeming to wrap around them like a blanket. Despite their immortal detachment, the holiday cheer was almost infectious, and even Urd couldn't entirely ignore the quiet beauty of the snow-dusted streets.
When they reached their residence—a grand but understated manor tucked away from prying mortal eyes—Urd paused at the entrance. He turned to Ky, his expression as inscrutable as ever.
"This is where we part ways for tonight," he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.
Ky gave a mock bow, his grin returning. "As you wish, my lord. But don't think this is the last you'll hear of my Halloween plans. Next year, perhaps. Who knows? You might even enjoy it."
"Highly unlikely," Urd replied, his voice as cold as the winter air. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the shadowed doorway, leaving Ky alone in the snow.
Ky straightened, his grin softening into something more thoughtful as he stared after the Second Progenitor. "One day, Urd," he murmured to himself, brushing snow from his coat. "One day, I'll convince you to see the world the way I do. And when that day comes, it will be glorious."
He chuckled softly, turning on his heel to head toward his own chambers. The night was still young, and Moscow, with all its secrets and stories, was waiting.
-END-
Notes:
💻📖 I've had a bit of a motivational strike when it comes to writing fanfiction—especially for Owari no Seraph. My hyperfixation on the manga dimmed about a year ago, but guess what? It's back now! 🔥✨ The new chapter gave me a much-needed boost. 🙌 I know this fandom has been pretty quiet lately, but for those few who read this, I hope it gives you a laugh or two! 😄
Urd is sooo done with Ky's antics, both past and present. 😤😂 My headcanon that Ky invented most vampire myths is just too funny for me to let go. (Though Ferid had a hand in them too probably) 🧛♂️📜 When I started writing this, I was literally smiling like an idiot the whole time. 😅 And Urd unintentionally becoming the archetype for vampire aristocracy? ICONIC and hilarious. 👑🩸
🖊️ I might write more, but for now, that's it.💕
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