The Manor Part IX

Table of Contents

Authors Note:

We may be coming to the end of Aldens story soon. I believe there may be another two parts after this, (we will see. I am a pantser through and through and these characters may decide otherwise.) For now, Aldens story continues as he becomes more at ease in his new home, The Manor.

As always, thank you for reading <3

3D art by: karamanserhat

“Do not lie Alden. You have taken an interest in me, have you not? You’ve only just admitted to spending hours in this library researching information that would tell you more about me. And yet you never thought to simply ask,” she turned back to him, her words a challenge, and her grin an invitation to play.

---

“You are a particularly challenging woman to find,” Alden admitted.

She scoffed, “Your attempts seek me out were rather half-hearted.” She caught his eyes with a playful smirk and added, “There is another reason, is there not?”

“I-well I-uh,” he stumbled over his words, feeling like the rook he knew he was.

“It would appear you are rather frightened of me,” she teased.

Alden shook his head with a laugh, “I do not fear you, I fear what you are capable of.”

She scoffed, waving a dismissive hand, “You only fear what you do not understand.”

Alden pursed his lips, “That may be so. However, I seek to gain an understanding. As you can see,” he gestured to the piles of books surrounding him strewn about haphazardly across the tables and chairs.

Ana caught his eyes in hers. No words were exchanged as she seemed to search for something within their shared gaze.

“Come along,” she finally announced, standing from her chair and moving towards the exit in one fluid motion.

Knocking his knees against the tables beside him in an attempt to follow, Alden scattered books across the floor. He huffed as he began to frantically clean up his mess, noticing the tower of books beside him now leaned at a dangerous angle.

“Leave them,” Ana ordered as she approached the Librarian. “Edith, after today Mister Cain should no longer be a bother,” she finished with an exaggerated displeasure.

Her words fed the guilt that fueled his miserable attempt at ‘tidying up.’

With glasses hung from the tip of her nose, Edith glanced up from her novel and nodded curtly. Then shifted her eyes to Alden, “Leave them Mister Cain.” She let out a heavy sigh as she closed her book with a thud. “Move along now, before I have a larger mess to tidy.”

Alden gave a small smile, “Apologies I-“

Edith put a finger to her lips, “Shush. Hurry along before the Lady loses her patience with you as I have.”

Alden glanced past Edith to Ana who stifled a laugh, then motioned for Alden to join her. They made their way to the lower level of the Manor where Ana led him through an new doorway. He entered expecting to find a library but was instead met with bedchambers.

At the center of room, sat a large bed with a burgundy lace canopy. Candelabras sat at the corners of the bedframe. Their black flames danced, illuminating the room with a bluish hue. On the left was a lounge area. Home to a deep burgundy chaise and a disheveled center table, scattered with books, half-empty tea cups, various herbs and bottles filled with questionable liquids.

Alden stopped in the doorway, breath hitching in his throat.

Ana glanced behind her as she continued into the room and smirked, “The library you seek is this way.”

She gestured to a wall that was decorated with handcrafted artwork; paintings, sculptures, drawings, all hung on the walls with care. As he scanned the artwork, he spotted a familiar drawing, now framed in gold.

“Is this Johnathan’s?” Alden asked.

Ana nodded as she waved her hand, revealing a new mist shrouded doorway, “Indeed it is. All of the art you find in my Manor was created by the children and attendants within it.”

Alden thought back to his many meanderings through the Manor. He thought the decorations were rather unconventional for such a grand Manor. Assuming Ana’s tastes were merely eclectic. Though he realized now, despite of her harsh persona, she was rather sentimental.

“Welcome to my personal library,” Ana announced as she disappeared beyond the doorway.

“Rooms within rooms,” Alden mused as he followed behind her.

This library was quaint in comparison to the library on the upper floor. Though, it shared a similar design; high ceilings with floor to ceiling bookshelves lining every wall. Loungers with tables beside them filled the center of the room. Unlike the other library, the books upon the shelves were not uniform. Some shelves were filled with scrolls, others with loose papers tied together with nothing but hope. The scent of rosemary drifted around the room, beneath it the familiar must of old paper lingered. A testament to the age of the literature found within.

“You may read anything you find. However, none of it may leave this room,” Ana said as she glided her way to a plush chesterfield couch, picking up a nearby leatherbound tome as she took a seat.

Alden moved to the bookshelves, walking the room slowly as he scanned the shelves in silent contemplation. He stared at the shelves, quietly trying to decipher what he was looking at. The names on the spines of the books were all worn, some were entirely unreadable. Though Alden was uncertain if they were illegible or simply written in a foreign language. The longer he combed the shelves, the further his shoulders fell.

Feeling Ana’s eyes piercing him from behind, he finally admitted, “I haven’t a clue where to begin.”

He turned to find Ana staring at him with amused anticipation, “Do you find pleasure in silent suffering? It seems you have an aversion to asking the simplest of questions.”

Alden gave a defeated smile, “A sound conclusion. I do allow my pride to get the better of me. But I concede, please m’lady,” he bowed with a dramatic flair, “Endow me with your wisdom for I am a mere fool.”

“I recall a time where you took offense to being called as such,” she teased.

Alden flinched at her answer, but replied in kind, “Indeed, I was as much a fool then as I am now. Only now I understand my folly.”

“Ah, so it seems my collection will not be wasted on you. For a man convinced he is all knowing, is the naivest of them all.”

“Indeed, he is.”

And a fool he had been for quite some time. Though her methods were, unorthodox, they had achieved their intended purpose. Ana exposed his folly in no uncertain terms. Alden was selfish in his endeavor to find her Manor and naive to the darkness lurking within Easton Burrough. He lived unknowingly as a sheep amongst wolves and he was grateful the wolf who ensnared him had been Ana. For she did not masquerade as anything but. Would a wolf in sheep’s clothing reveal its intentions when asked so directly? Her question rang through his mind.

He had assumed her the wolf, but now…

He met Ana’s now curious eyes and asked, “That first morning, when we met for breakfast…”

“The trader was already dead,” she answered plainly, unimpressed by his seemingly delayed conclusion.

Alden furrowed his brows, “Did you know of me before I found your Manor?”

“While I know I may appear omniscient, I am not all knowing. My scouts spotted your approach well before you laid eyes upon my Manor,” she admitted, eyes now back on the pages of her tome.

Alden crossed his arms in thought, “Did you-“

Ana interrupted again, “Fear not Alden Cain, if not for your daughter’s presence, you too would have been slain that day. We do not take kindly to unwelcomed visitors. But alas, I will not make a child bare the sins of their fathers.” She sighed, seemingly disinterested in their conversation then added, “If it is magic you wish to learn, you first need to learn its basics.”

She gestured to the wall behind Alden and added, “Behind you there are several scrolls.”

Alden turned to the scrolls then back to Ana, awaiting further instruction. She peaked above the edge of her book with eyes that told him that was all the information she would offer.

Sighing, Alden went to the shelves of scrolls and grabbed a handful, carrying them over to his own reading spot across from hers. Though he intended to set the scrolls down carefully, the moment he released them, several rolled off the table and onto the floor.

Alden grimaced then looked up to Ana, who looked to the scrolls, then him. She sighed then readjusted herself on the couch. As he reached for the scrolls on the floor, he nearly jumped out of his shoes when Ophelia appeared beside him.

“I have brought you your tea My Lady,” she curtseyed to Ana before side-eying Alden who was now picking up all of the scrolls off the floor.

“Thank you Ophelia,” Ana said warmly, “Tell me, how is Misses Eade faring? Has she shown signs of improvement?”

Ophelia stiffened, looking over her shoulder at Alden like he was an unwelcomed pest.

“Speak freely Ophelia,” Ana pushed.

Ophelia sighed, then took a seat beside Ana and poured herself a cup of tea, relaxing into the couch.

“I do not understand your trust in him Ana,” Ophelia spoke, now in a casual tone.

Alden looked up to find Ophelia glaring and Ana watching him with a contemplative look, the tip of her sharp fang sticking out where she bit her lip.

“I am…intrigued by him,” Ana finally said, closing her tome and reaching for her tea.

With the scrolls now neatly stacked on the table before him, Alden took a seat and added, “If I were not present, I fear my ears would be burning.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes and Ana smirked.

“Truly Ana, allowing a dog such as him access to your private quarters?” Ophelia continued.

Ana laughed, “You know better than to fret over me Ophelia.” She looked back to Alden and added, “Besides, it’s as you say, he is still a babe in the woods. Doe eyed, stumbling his way through his new life.”

“Tell me dog, what plans do you have? Or are you going to freeload off of Ana for all of eternity?”

“Ophelia,” Ana chastised halfheartedly.

Feeling like the outsider he was, Alden spoke up, “What would you have me do?”

Ophelia huffed, “Does the dolt need someone to wipe his backside too?”

Ana laughed, “Alden, what are your skills? If you plan to stay at my Manor, you will be expected to contribute. That is what I presume you meant to say, isn’t it Ophelia?” She asked pointedly.

Ophelia scoffed, “Spelling out the simplest of things for the slowest of dogs. Yes, Ana that is exactly what I mean.” She turned her attention back to Alden, “You’ve been here over a month have done nothing but wander the halls, stalk the attendants, and help yourself to our resources. You’ve nearly killed your blood donor each time you’ve fed from her. Though I know she is a wretched woman, your bite seems to worsen each time you sink your teeth into the wench.”

“As if she deserves any semblance of sympathy. Agnes is more beast than woman, and even you must agree,” Alden argued.

Ophelia was not wrong; he was particularly unskilled with his feeding. If he had not learned to notice the slowing of his donor’s heartbeat he would have killed her by now. Ophelia had scolded him repeatedly about this, as it was a rarity for Ana to allow a donor to be kept completely lucid. Most blood donors were kept in a fugue state, somewhere between fantasy and reality where they could live out their days in imagined bliss while they sustained Ana and her attendants.

Though, in Alden’s defense, Agnes’ sins against her sons were far worse than originally presumed. It took weeks for Ana to integrate the boys into the Manor. They were in such fear that their parents would punish them for running away that they holed themselves up in their room in terror.

Suffice to say, Alden had made it a point to inflict pain upon Agnes in silent retribution for the boys. He found pleasure in knowing the miserable woman now lived in fear of him. Alden had also made efforts to cultivate an intimidating presence when he entered her cell. Keeping her in complete darkness when he fed upon her, so the only thing her mortal eyes could see was the blazing red hunger in his.

“Regardless,” Ophelia ignored his remark and continued on her tirade, “Ana may be gifted with magic beyond your dull imagination, but this Manor doesn’t run on her alone. Even the surviving townsfolk of Easton Burrough are doing their share but you,” she spat, “Have done nothing.”

“You never did answer me about Misses Eade, how is she faring?” Ana asked, redirecting Ophelias fury.

Ophelia sighed heavily, giving Alden one last scowl before answering Ana, “Though it has taken her far longer than the others to recover from her change, she is becoming lucid.”

“Was she ill?” Alden asked.

Ophelia answered, “Not all are strong enough to withstand the transformation dog. Elderly women, such as Misses Eade, rarely survive the change.”

Ana nodded, “I warned her of this before the ritual, but she was adamant. Though as I suspected, she was indeed strong enough.”

“I couldn’t imagine going through that pain only to have died,” Alden said thoughtfully.

“Many do not withstand the change,” Ana said, brushing a strand of silky hair behind her ear.

“Unfortunately, you did,” Ophelia added under her breath.

“Have I done something to offend you, Ophelia?” Alden shot.

“As if a dog could offend me,” she quipped back.

Alden sighed then looked to Ana for aid.

She gave a small smile, “Ophelia is weary of you for good reason. We have had… many unsavory folk roam these halls and Ophelia is responsible for keeping an eye on all of the new additions to my Manor. To ensure a smooth transition, so to speak.”

Ana and Ophelia exchanged glances.

“How long has your Manor stood?” Alden asked, deciding it would be foolish to intrude on their silent exchange. He glanced down to the tea cups on the table in front of the ladies and noticed there were only two. Though he wanted to let out a disappointed sigh, he did not want to give Ophelia the satisfaction.

Ana sat back, bringing her teacup to her lips and pondered, “Two, no three centuries?”

Still glaring at Alden, Ophelia nodded, “Nearly three now.”

“Three hundred years?” Alden sputtered.

How many generations of children had seen these halls? What became of them? None of the adults in the Manor were human, it was only the children who retained their humanity.

“What becomes of the children when they reach adulthood?” He asked. “You told me you would care for Emily until her adulthood but if they are sheltered to this Manor what becomes of them? Especially now that…” he trailed off.

“Now that the closest town has been eradicated?” Ophelia remarked carelessly.

“Yes, now that Easton Burrough is no more,” he said.

“Ah yes,” Ana began, “I have not yet explained this to you.” She paused, collecting her words before continuing, “The children raised here are of course free to leave when they come of age. When that time approaches, the attendants and myself begin considering their placements.”

“Placements?” Alden asked.

She nodded, and Ophelia huffed as she poured herself a cup of tea and reached for a book from a nearby stack. Decidedly exiting the conversation.

“Yes, placements,” Ana continued. “Each child has their own skillset and as such, we search for places best suited to their talents. For instance, Easton Burrough was a busy trade town. Artisans skilled in practical creations fared well in that town. Often garnering enough success to purchase property in larger cities with more lucrative opportunities.

Other children, like Johnathan, who are skilled with arts tend to be placed in larger cities to start. As it is nobles and lords who often spend coin on the arts. Any of the children we feel need additional training are connected with a mentor who will provide them with the necessary skills and connection to further their abilities.”

“You make it sound as if dropping children off across the world in various towns is a simple task. How are they to find their footing when they have been raised here?” Alden pressed.

Ophelia chortled, “Ana, the dog is far too simple minded. I do not see the need in allowing him access to your library if he does not understand the simplest of explanations.”

Ana waved her off, “Ophelia, you must remember he did not come to this Manor a vampyr. He has only just entered the beginning of eternity.”

Ophelia gave Ana an exasperated look before returning to her book.

“Alden, you must understand by now that vampyr have the ability to influence humans,” Ana said.

Feeling like he was being pandered to like a child Alden answered confidently, “And each other as I’ve observed.”

Ophelia nearly spit out her tea, “Ana please, I fear I am growing more ignorant as he speaks.”

Ignoring Ophelia, Ana responded gently, “Not quite… Vampyr can only command their own spawn.”

She watched Alden closely, as if trying to determine if he understood her meaning. He answered again with false confidence, “Ah yes, spawn.”

Ana tried to hide her smirk, “Yes, spawn. You, are one of mine, and I am your dame.”

Alden raised a brow in question.

“Maker, as in, the one who turned you, the one who gave you vampirism,” Ophelia interrupted, shooting a look of desperation to Ana before returning to her book.

Alden nodded, “Are all of the attendants at the Manor your…spawn?”

“Indeed, well aside from Ophelia. Her and I were-” Ana stopped herself as Ophelias eyes widened in silent warning.

He watched the women have a seemingly silent conversation between themselves when he cut in, “I still don’t understand how you graduate the children from the Manor.”

Ana gave him a gentle smile, “It’s rather complicated to explain. I will-show you, in the future.”

Ophelia snickered. Alden shot her a glower which she returned in kind.

Ignoring the tension between the two, Ana stood from the couch and moved to a set of bookshelves across the room. Alden watched her in silent awe. Ana moved like mist on the breeze. Effortlessly gliding from place to place as silently as the shadows. He watched her in silent adoration when the sound of a screeching table against stone pulled his attention away. As he turned to check the noise, he felt the sharp edge of the center table bludgeon his shins.

Ophelia feigned an apologetic gesture as she jerked the table forward once more, before returning it to its rightful place.

“Ophelia,” Ana called tiredly. “Your childish behavior is unbecoming.”

Alden turned to Ana but found her already beside him, holding out a large leatherbound tome, sealed shut with a large iron lock. Cautiously, he accepted it. Then, Ana waved her hand, wisps of ebony smoke enshrouded the entire tome. The magic danced between his fingertips like the cold caress of a night’s breeze before slowly dissipating. The iron lock clicked open and clattered to the stone below.

“This tome holds the answers you seek,” Ana said, her gaze entrancing him as she spoke.

“T-thank you,” he stammered out.

“Ana, the dog is drooling over you. You mustn’t forget the effects your magic has on simpleminded fools,” Ophelia crooned.

Ana gave Alden a mischievous grin, then returned to her seat beside Ophelia. Reluctantly, Alden withdrew his gaze from Ana and glanced to the tome in his hands. Now eager to uncover what Ana offered him; he pulled open the heavy front cover to reveal pages full of…nothing?

Furrowing his brow, Alden looked from the empty pages to Ana who raised her cup of tea in salute, “Yet another mystery for you to uncover. Though I fear it will have to wait. I believe morning is upon us.”

Ophelia closed her book with a sigh, “Indeed. I shall return to my duties. Come along dog. Ana may be too polite to outright banish you from her chambers. But I am not so kind.”

“Ah, a matter on which we agree upon,” Alden teased.

Ophelia stopped in her tracks, orange curls bouncing as she swirled around to deliver a hateful glare. Ana’s decadent laughter echoed between them.

***
Alden began spending every free moment in Ana’s library. Though she often joined him and read quietly beside him, she left him to uncover his own answers in the centuries of literature within her study. The tome Ana revealed to him was a rather tricky bastard. Initially, only the first page revealed itself. Full of riddles and encrypted meanings that required his full depth of understanding before it revealed any further secrets. Once he uncovered the trick to revealing more, it took him nearly a month to get to the end of the tome. Finding, at last, in the final pages, how to kill a vampyr.

Ana had not been exaggerating, killing a vampyr was no simple feat. Unlike humans, vampyr had regenerative abilities that protected them from each other. Covens as large as Ana’s were uncommon. Due to their territorial nature, most vampyr kept only a handful of spawn in close proximity. For the larger number of potential enemies capable of killing you, the higher the risk.

Alden also discovered that very few vampyr were capable of magic at all. Ana’s magical prowess was nearly unheard of. When he asked how she became so adept at magic, Ana merely answered with a smile. A mystery she was, and a mystery he hoped to reveal.

Most vampyr were desperate to hold onto their immortality and vied for as much power as they could grasp to secure their survival. Power struggles between territories were responsible for the most vampyr deaths. There were many accounts of young and eager vampyr encroaching on another’s territory. Stirring up a wars that left the land and its people decimated.

To kill a vampyr, it was not enough to simply stab the heart, or even decapitate them. No, you not only had to dismember them, but you also have to burn each piece. However, burning a vampyrs body would not result in their permanent death. Even the ashes would begin to regenerate. It was advised that you bury the ashes, separately. For if they are buried too closely together, they would seek to reunite. Though it may take years, even centuries for the pieces of the whole to find each other, if left unattended, they would. As such, there were several accounts of vampyr locking away pieces of their kin in iron tombs, for iron could seemingly withstand the desperation of reunification.

From Alden’s research, there seemed only one way to experience true death as a vampyr. Only once they are free of their creators, shall they find any reprieve to their unending existence. Vampyr who are dismembered and burned, will never experience true death, until their sire is killed. Unsettlingly enough, there were even accounts of vampyr retraining awareness when left alive but dismembered. A detail Ana seemed rather uncomfortable discussing at any length.

Though Ana never outright stated it, it seemed her sire was still alive, and thus she was forced to continue her own existence. These discoveries left Alden with the nearly unbearable realization that Emilys life would end and he would be forced to continue on. A curse with no cure. An existence with no end. A life without completion.

Unwilling to dwell on that realization, Alden dove into his magical research. After countless hours of trial and error, he discovered he too had an affinity for magic. Though he could only conjure up a few measly wisps of bluish-magic, the fact he could conjure any at all was by all accounts a miracle.

Even Ophelia could not hide her surprise when she intruded on one of his training sessions. Though she never stopped referring to him as a dog, after realizing her attempts at convincing Ana to banish him from the Manor were for naught, she had begrudgingly accepted his presence.

He studied relentlessly for the next six months. While his knowledge of the occult grew more expansive, his limited magical abilities remained. Ana reassured him it took her nearly a century to conjure up her first tendril; he did not find her assurances comforting.

Late one evening, while quietly enjoying Ana’s company, Ophelia burst into the study in a panic. Alden jumped to his feet, startled by her uncharacteristic anxiety.

Breathlessly, she reported, “Ana, he has found us.”

Alden looked to Ana, whose normally unshaken composure, shattered. For the first time, she seemed at a loss for words.

Ophelia rushed to her, grabbing her by the shoulders, “We haven’t time to waste Ana, we must prepare the children.”
***