The Door

The first light came streaming through the windows. It gently caressed sun-kissed skin and roused the owner of it to consciousness. Emerald eyes opened almost reluctantly. At first, they stared at nothing in particular. The scenery wasn't that interesting, after all; just some faded, floral wallpaper. Any dents and dings left behind by the previous owner had been meticulously covered up by the tailor. But, even if no one else could see the flaws without using anything less than a magnifying glass, Simon could. It was something that bothered him to no end.

The mattress creaked as the lone occupant sat up with a sigh. Yes, the wallpaper was the same. Everything was the same. The baker across the street had gotten his oven going, sending a tantalizing aroma wafting down Bellany Avenue. A cart rattled loudly down the street as all the typical, unwanted rubbish rolled around in the back. A thud could be heard against his back door as the paperboy delivered the news of the day.

'Nothing has changed,' he reminded himself with narrowed eyes focusing on the floorboards, as if meaning to stare a hole right through them, 'Nothing at all.'

So, why then did he feel so different? Shaking his head, Simon rose to his feet, before making his way to his modest mirror. He eyed his appearance, before running a brush through his stubborn, brown locks. He reminded himself that his feelings were pointless, little things that stood in the way of everything he had to do that day. If he wanted to get back to business as usual, the first step was to do what he had always done; ignore them.

"The early bird gets the worm," he softly reminded himself, as he stepped toward his armoire to pick out his outfit for the day.

The moment he opened up The Ode to Maria, thongs of people flooded in of all classes and creeds. But, there was a noticeable shift in the clientele. After the gala nightmare was over and everyone had recovered from their shock, they somehow remembered the tailor with the tiny shop on Bellany Avenue. Speaking of memories, the damage Lord Price had done to Simon Hart and The Ode to Maria had been all, but forgotten. It seemed that his networking efforts had been effective, after all-

'Not to mention that he takes custom orders. Which is why my suit is so entirely different from anything you've ever seen. Isn't that right, dear tailor?'

Simon shooed that pesky recollection of the gala night right out of his head. But, he would be lying if he said that he didn't miss the vampire's presence in his life. They hadn't known each other long, but somehow, it felt like the other man had been there forever.

He sighed, before looping his measuring tape around his neck, after jotting down a patron's dimensions. The past was in the past. Besides, it had already been a month. A month without hearing from Alabaster Stone and a month without sending any correspondence back.

It stood to reason that Malakai Stone was right. Simon was merely a danger to the Crystal Vampire; a liability. Nothing more, nothing less. The best thing he could do at that point was to forget they had even met.

'Yes. It's better this way.'

Meanwhile, a firm leg nudged a certain vampire from under the table with purpose.

"H-Huh? I mean, yes?"

"Lord Bennett was just asking if you had ever seen a vampire insurrection in any of your past lives," Lord Jasper repeated with a sigh, before reaching for his glass of red wine.

He was obviously disappointed with how distracted his youngest son was. Especially since he had finally been invited to the negotiation table at behest of the king, himself. Why Malakai insisted that Alabaster be there was anyone's guess. Surely it wasn't because he believed that a man who likened himself to a fancy hat pin just along for the ride would be anything more than a stumbling block here, right?

Unaware of his father's thoughts, though he could probably surmise them by the look on his face, Alabaster thought back. He delicately combed through the archives of his mind, pushing aside bits and pieces that didn't matter. He traveled back through one thousand, ten thousand, even one hundred thousand years! But, his efforts were in vain.

Because no matter how much he picked through the endless amount of knowledge stored up within him, he couldn't find any instance of that happening before. Had the vampiric empire always been as stable as it was now? As well ordered?

He was about to abandon his search, right before he turned to find an old door. The enormous, looming entrance was covered from top to bottom in ominous runes that he could swear were familiar, but he couldn't decipher their meaning.

'What on Earth,' he thought with furrowed brows, 'I have never seen anything like this before. Especially not in my own mind.'

But, then again, perhaps it had come, because he was looking for it? Did it have the information he needed? Was it all hidden away behind this enormous door? Alabaster carefully stepped up to the threshold, giving it a proper once over, before reaching for the knob.

The moment he touched it, the runes lit up. The Crystal Vampire gasped in pain as he withdrew his now singed hand, just in time for the light to brighten all the more fiercely. He took a few steps back in horror, as the radiance struck him with a blossoming pain that seemed to burn him from the inside out!

"Brother? Alabaster!"

He came back to the world as a hand insistently shook his shoulder. Sky-blue eyes were dilated. Sharp intakes of air were stolen in an effort to calm his raging heart rate. Though, it was harder to ease his nerves when Alabaster realized that he had the eyes of the entire table on him. Suddenly, he regretted this whole thing.

"Well? What did you see, my son?"

His tone may have been neutral, but that crimson gaze was demanding. If the Crystal Vampire wasn't perspiring before, he certainly was now. Because disappointing Jasper Stone never went well for anyone involved. He had to come up with something and come up with it quick.

"I.. didn't really find anything. Perhaps this act of disobedience against Emperor Obsidian is unprecedented."

"Yes, that makes perfect sense," Malakai followed with a nod, "It would be foolish for anyone to strike against our lordship, the Emperor. We all know what he does with traitors."

The Crystal Vampire wasn't blind. Malakai had covered for him. Something he was ever so grateful for. But, in truth his focus was on something else, entirely.

Alabaster lowered his eyes, as the meeting continued, a sense of dread growing in the pit of his stomach. Once he was finally released from the table, he wandered back down the dimly lit hallway to his room, closing the door softly behind him. After making doubly sure that it was without a doubt locked, he stepped into the light, before slowly lifting his hand. His eyes lit up with shock and horror; his palm was blistered and burnt.

He backed up, until his legs hit the bed, prompting him to sink down on it. The noble stared at his quaking hand for a few more moments, before lowering it carefully.

"W-What does it mean?" he whispered frantically, raising his hand to lock eyes with the wound once again just to confirm that it was still there, "None of this makes any sense."

Slowly, Alabaster raised his other hand and called out to the power deep within him. With a simple swipe, the damage was gone; gone from his hand, but not his mind. He needed answers, of course. But, in that moment, when he was shaken down to the depths of his soul, Alabaster found that there was something he needed that much more.

Malakai glided down the hall, his shadow looming large on the wall. He left his brother alone for a few hours, figuring that he needed time to work through whatever was clearly bothering him. But, much like his patience, Alabaster's time had run out. As the vampire stepped up to it, keen, golden eyes glanced under the doorway to see if any light was peeking through. Satisfied that it was safe thanks to the coming of dusk, he stepped up and knocked soundly.

"Alabaster?"

Not a sound came from with. The older vampire's eyes narrowed with suspicion. He tried again, rapping his knuckles on the wood demandingly.

"Alabaster, open up! Now!"

Nothing yet again. Clicking his tongue with distaste, the older brother shook the door knob, using his vampiric speed to jiggle the lock open. He pushed his way inside only to find an empty room. The sight of the curtains billowing from the approaching night air drew his gaze.

Malakai stared for a few moments, before approaching the open window. Golden eyes gazed out at Lenore as the last sliver of sunset disappeared over the horizon. His fist slammed against the window seal, putting a crack in it, before the man let his head hang in defeat. His brother was gone and he knew just where he was going. But, there was no point in following him; Alabaster had made his choice.

Simon bowed to his last customer of the night, as the man stumbled out of his shop with ten new suits on order and a fair lady on each arm. Claiming the now empty bottle of wine, he sighed, before turning to place it back on the platter, only to hear the bell above the shop door give a cheerful ring.

"I do apologize, but we're closed-"

"Simon."

Green eyes widened, recognizing that silky voice anywhere. He whipped around in shock. Slowly, the wine bottle fell from his hands, shattering on the floor between them. It took a while to find his voice. But, once he had, the tailor could only manage the breathe out one word,

"Alabaster."