The years were merciless. Time, to ordinary men, gnawed at the bones, withered the flesh, and buried dreams beneath soil and stone. But in my house, time obeyed a different master. I shaped it. Molded it. Decided who would stand against its inevitable decay—and who would be devoured by it.
Selena and Daniel. They were no longer the fragile, trembling children I had found weeping beside their mother's corpse in that ruined house, back in the Age of Darkness. Years passed, and I forged them into weapons sharper than any sword, minds keener than any scholar's, hearts bound to mine by loyalty… and necessity.
Selena grew first, her body tall and lithe, her silver hair—a gift of my altered bloodline—falling in waves down her back. Her eyes, sharp as daggers, could cut through the lies of kings and the schemes of priests. She was my shadow, my strategist, a blade hidden beneath silk and charm.
Daniel, quieter, yet no less dangerous, walked beside her. His frame broad, his eyes storm-gray, he bore the patience of centuries within his young face. His loyalty to me ran deeper than blood. It was carved into his soul.
But they were still human… mostly. My blood coursed through their veins, but not fully. I preserved their humanity. Their mortality. For now.
I taught them everything. Languages dead and living. The art of war. The subtle dance of politics. How to read a man's heart by his eyes, his breath, the tremor of his voice. How to see betrayal before it bloomed. How to survive when nations fell and fires consumed empires.
"You are not soldiers," I told them. "You are architects of fate."
We traveled across Europe as the centuries staggered forward. Through plague, through war, through fire. I hid them when I hibernated—sometimes for a decade, sometimes more—slipping into my deep sleep beneath catacombs or frozen peaks, while they watched over my holdings, protected my followers, expanded the web of influence that stretched beyond borders and bloodlines.
My name became legend, then myth, then ghost story. But those who served me—those whose ancestors I had rescued from stake, sword, or sickness—remembered.
Selena and Daniel became more than my children. They were symbols. The chosen. Proof that Arthur's bloodline could endure where others perished.
But loyalty… loyalty was a fragile thing.
I warned them. "Your hearts beat in rhythm with mine. Should you falter… should betrayal fester… you will turn to ash before the thought fully forms."
They believed me. They had seen it happen to others.
The traitors. The ambitious. The fools who thought they could sever the bond we shared. Their bodies combusted, reduced to cinders, as their final treacherous thoughts echoed in the void between us. Their deaths were swift. Merciful compared to my wrath.
Selena never doubted me. Her ambition burned, but it was tempered by faith in me. In the vision I carried for our family.
Daniel… his doubts were quieter. Subtle. Yet he never betrayed. Fear? Love? Perhaps both. But his loyalty held.
We passed through the Renaissance, the Age of Exploration, the fires of the witch hunts. I saved those I could—the accused, the hunted, the forgotten—and they repaid me with generations of devotion. Bloodlines intertwined with mine. An empire hidden in plain sight.
Sometimes, I vanished for years. Centuries even. I slept beneath mountains, beneath oceans, when the weight of eternity pressed upon me. But when I awoke, they were there. Selena. Daniel. And the countless descendants of those I had saved, whispering my name, keeping the world prepared for my return.
And yet, in the shadows, enemies always waited. Jealous immortals. Mortal kings who sensed my unseen hand. Secret societies who hunted those like me.
But they failed. They always failed. Because betrayal is predictable. And I hear the hearts of all who serve me. The pulse of fear. The rhythm of treason. It exposes them before they act, their lives extinguished like flames before the fire can spread.
Selena grew ruthless. A diplomat in courts, a dagger in alleys. Daniel, ever the silent protector, stood at her side. Together, they ruled my hidden empire when I retreated into my endless sleep.
But the world changed. Machines. Empires. Industry. The whispers of gods replaced by the hum of factories. Humanity believed itself free from the darkness.
They were wrong.
The old blood never dies. I never die. I only sleep… and I only awaken when needed.
Selena grew up as beautiful as moonlight on a cloudless night, and Daniel became as imposing as the warriors of ancient empires. But the centuries did not spare even the forgotten gods, and the world, once again, plunged into darkness.
It was in the middle of the 20th century that horrors arose with more fury than any plague, more cruel than any witch hunt. War engulfed the world, and extermination camps spread like open wounds on the skin of the Earth.
The Jews... ancient humans, marked by persecution since the times when Rome erected columns and imposed crosses, were once again the targets of hatred. Children torn from their mothers' arms, men carried in wagons like cattle, women tortured for the simple inheritance of blood.
And me? I did not remain still.
Humans call me monstrous, a legend, a shadow that crosses the centuries... But in each era, there is a price to be paid for being indifferent.
Selena, cunning as ever, infiltrated the occupied cities. Daniel, with his discreet strength, opened escape routes through forgotten mountains and sewers. And I... I negotiated with human monsters, silenced generals, and erased from existence those who threatened children and innocents.
The books tell of Schindler, Wallenberg, and so many other mortal heroes. They deserve praise. But in the shadows, I and my people operated in silence.
In the fast-paced Warsaw, our agents forged documents, opened tunnels, destroyed deportation lists. Thousands escaped through the net that I had built over centuries. Jews, gypsies, the persecuted... Many do not know it, but they walk alive today because the generations they saved before—in the Black Death, in the fires of the Inquisition—never stopped serving me.
Those descendants, now adults, were infiltrated in every corner of Europe, ready to act. A secret lineage of loyalty, bound by ties that were not only of blood, but of destiny.
And, of course, those who dared betray that oath... turned to ashes before they could even think of acting.
The Second World War was proof that evil never dies. But also that resistance, fueled by centuries of preparation, rises when the world needs it.
When the Reich fell and the ashes of the fields dissipated, I left Europe, my presence diminished by boats and distorted memories. Selena and Daniel protect, guide the survivors, protect those who did not know the price of the freedom they had won.
Today, they were waiting for me once again. I was waking from a deep sleep, the centuries passing like a breath for me.
Daniel looked at me with stony eyes, the scars of the past hidden behind his serene expression. "Father, the descendants of those we saved... are ready."
Selena moved, her face firm, the echo of the centuries marking each word. "The enemies of old? Dead. Forgotten. But there are new dangers. New darkness. The world thinks the horror is past… They forgot too quickly."
I am sorry. "They always forget. But we… We remember. And as long as my blood flows in them, as long as the hearts of the loyal beat to the rhythm of mine, evil will never win."
And those who betray… well, they will never think of their betrayal before they are ashes blown away by the wind.