Silence seems to be the family’s emblem.
Even though the three are not blood related, it still seems that they’re blood relatives due to the fact that a problem of one becomes the dilemma of everybody.
Cyrill was the one driving the car this time. Romaine was in absolute quietude—probably because of anger and enigma, or both. Anger because of her step daughter accidentally setting Maebh’s dress on fire and Enigma because of her recent discovery of Rozelyn’s profound abilities.
Rozelyn, on the other hand, seems to be in apparent ire and bereavement due to Maebh mentioning and insulting her late mother. Rozelyn is a kind of person that never wants to hear insults and mockery from people, especially when it concerns herself and her family.
Maebh was lucky that it was just her dress that was devoured by flames, not her entire corporeal form. If Rozelyn had really gone outrageous, she’d definitely engulf the entire hall in scorching agony and flaming anguish.
They were at the foyer of the house when Rozelyn spoke.
“So what exactly is a Thaumaturge?”
Romaine’s mouth was still wholly shut this time. It was Cyrill who responded.
“A Thaumaturge is the most powerful type of vampire or werewolf. There are cases like you who, at first, seem to be an Elemental. But eventually, a Thaumaturge powers will surface and be known, especially when your will is as unbending as a steel. Though in your case, it’s quite mysterious why it’s too fast considering that you’ve just turned eighteen a few days ago.”
“I see. So what are the powers of a Thaumaturge?”
It was Romaine who answered. Her face was unyielding and her voice was in absolute firmness.
“A Thaumaturge has all the powers of the rest of the eight kinds. In our history, there are only two Thaumaturge: Vlad the Impaler, also known as Dracula, and Alexander Corvinus. A vampire or werewolf’s powers usually reflect the status of their soul. In short, your power resonates with the very essence of your being. ”
Rozelyn was dazed by the revelation. In their entire history, she is the third Thaumaturge since centuries ago. Even Cyrill was dumbfounded by the divulgence of their kind—the vampires’ and werewolves’ breed.
Without a single word, Romaine ascended to her private room— alone and drained. Even she was bewildered by Rozelyn’s nature.
As the reigning supreme of the Irish Coven, she never expected that there’d be a Thaumaturge in the contemporary times. She thought that a Thaumaturge only flows in the blood of the two legendary vampire and werewolf—Dracula and Alexander Corvinus respectively.
Downstairs, Cyrill and Rozelyn seem to just glare at one another. The ajar door had allowed the September breeze to enter the interiors of their abode. To be truthful, he hasn’t gotten over the incident at his orchestra event, caused by the person in front of him. In fact, his outfit still bears the Victoria’s Secret perfume that Henriz gifted to him last summer.
It was Rozelyn who decided to shut the door. Cyrill’s gaze didn’t yield when his adoptive mom’s step daughter returned to the place where they were standing.
“Since I already know what a Thaumaturge is, can you please elucidate to me what Astral and Pasiphae are?”
She asked clemently to the werewolf. The living room’s chandelier light was the only thing gleaming between them. He was five feet apart from her, as if he was petrified of the lass in front of him.
Cyrill inhaled before explaining to the green-eyed vampire before him, “A Pasiphae is a type of werewolf or vampire that can duplicate any power, except for a Thaumaturge. We can only duplicate anyone’s power one at a time and only for a short period.”
Rozelyn nodded in discernment. She was about to ask for something when he continued explaining.
“An Astral is a vampire or werewolf who possesses abilities that mostly concern the mind. They can read the minds of others—both our kind and mortals—except for Empaths and Thaumaturge. They can also cast illusions and mentally control others.”
She crossed her arms while she sat on the nearby golden couch, embroidered with swirling designs and spiral shapes.
“They are also said to be able to manipulate memories and dreams,” he resumed while unbuttoning his long sleeves.
Rozelyn peered at him with incredulity. She can’t believe what she's hearing at this moment. She never thought that these things exist in the real-life world. She thought that it was only Edward Cullen and Lestat de Lioncourt who possessed such mighty powers in the vampire-verse.
Tired and sleepy, she ascended to the stairs without saying any words or gesturing anything to Cyrill Clarke.
The lad was left alone; with only the triplet cats staring at him oddly and queerly, as if the felines could discern what’s happening to the not-blood-related kin.
Exhausted, he sauntered to his private chamber and lulled himself to a good night's sleep—with only his epidermis covering his entirety.
***
Rozelyn just received her stepmom’s message from her cellular phone the very moment she finished her last class for the day.
She invited her to have supper at Ezra’s Diner—owned by Romaine’s nephew, Ezra Eastwood. Cyrill took a part-time job at the same diner from eight in the morning to four in the afternoon. During the night, if he doesn’t have a music gig invitation, he works as a bartender at the local five-star hotel in Shamrock.
She saw Romaine wearing a chevron black and white dress by the glass window pane; sitting at the fourth table to the left at the entranceway. The forty-year-old lovely stepmom waved a hand at her with a broad smile in her caramel-colored lips.
“How’s the day?”
“I’m totally fine. Psychology has been gradually teaching me manners, I guess,” she responded as she lay down her sea-green school bag.
The waitress, dressed in Ireland’s colors, then arrived with their food and slowly set them down.
Rozelyn muttered her thanks in Gaelic.
A shepherd’s pie and Rozelyn’s favorite bangers and mash was laid before her. A surf and turf was also ordered by her stepmom. All are her favorites. Though, she’s quite curious on why her stepmom ordered mostly her favorites, considering that Romaine is often more of a vegetarian these days—probably because they have a huge fridge filled with blood in wine bottles. Perhaps that’s the reason why she doesn’t need that much protein and iron because Romaine was already getting it from that red liquid.
“So, why did you invite me to your nephew’s diner? You only invite me to eat outside when you have something important to say.”
Rozelyn looked at Romaine with a serious glare.
Romaine refrained from her stepdaughter’s peering.
“I have a boyfriend.”
Wow. You just invited me to eat out just to say that you already have a boylet? Rozelyn conversed with herself.
“Why can’t you say something? Say something, sweetie,” Romaine demanded like a highschool girl asking for an opinion about her crush.
“Something,” Rozelyn teasingly responded.
Romaine frowned, but Rozelyn just chortled.
“I’m serious, Roz.”
“I thought your name was Romaine Eastwood-Zadzisai?”
Rozelyn seems to just clown around her stepmother’s love life revelation.
Romaine just sighed then flicked her gaze to the passing vehicles by the glass pane.
“Do you know why your vampire self just surfaced when you’re eighteen?”
Wow. Just wow. I never knew she could swiftly switch a topic just like changing a dress.
Rozelyn should be rewarded for an outstanding soliloquy of the century. Her constant monologue and self-talk seems to be an inseparable part of her identity.
“Your mother was already terminally sick when she conceived you,” Romaine commenced the story-telling.
“Visenna had been diagnosed with leukemia even before she was pregnant with you. That’s why Eku was eager to find the flower even when it was just a legend. Your father has a thing of myth and folklore. He’s fascinated with them and believes that a legend cannot just be fabricated without the basis of reality. He was a keen man and always willing to learn and discover things. That’s why he asks for a fund from sponsors for his research and expedition to the Blood Rose’s lair,” Her stepmom explained meticulously.
“So, my dad didn’t just go for the flower just because of his profession as a botanist and scientific breakthrough but also for my mom?” Rozelyn asked with a face resembling a curious five-year-old grade-schooler.
Romaine nodded with definite sureness.
“Cyrill also went home, amidst his offer in London to be part of the musical industry, because he knew that his growing werewolf nature would perhaps lead to the inevitable discovery of our kind. At least in here, he has his Irish Pack and we have our Irish Coven to assist and shield him if ever his hunger will unwittingly set loose.”
Rozelyn didn’t make a move or a face or even talked. She’s still processing about her parents’ history then suddenly Romaine expound the reason of Cyrill’s unexpected return.
“Wait, so Cyrill was turned into a huge pup when he was twenty? Why did his nature then surface so fast? Why did mine just surface when I turned eighteen?” She demanded the Vampire Supreme in front of her.
“You’ve consumed Ambrosia when you were just an infant. The flower’s monstrous nature will only be revealed when the individual reaches adulthood. In Cyrill’s case, he consumed the rose when he’s already an adult. So, the bloodlust didn’t take long to unravel,” Romaine explained while drinking an Irish ale.
Rozelyn just enjoyed gobbling her T-bone steak and shepherd’s pie while her stepmom was discussing Vampire and Werewolf Fundamentals. Well, eating is Rozelyn’s sacred ritual after all. It’s just right that she treats her eating session the rightful attention it deserves.
Romaine, who was quite dismayed by her stepdaughter’s continuous munching of her supper, just decided to continue eating as well her Italian sausage with mozzarella dip.
After a few minutes, Rozelyn suddenly looked at Romaine—who was eating a chocolate fudge for dessert.
“Tell me more about my parents.”
Well, she’s already a young adult by now. It’s just ethical to query about her parents’ history. She’s a type of individual that doesn’t really much care where she came from or what her parents’ history are. But, she’s a vampire now; and knowing the backstory of her father and mother seems to give her a deeper reason to appreciate her parents’ sacrifice and hardships.
As she wiped her mouth with a tissue, Romaine fixed her posture and valiantly gazed at her stepdaughter in the eyes.
And she began to narrate.