IVY AND SEYMOUR'S RETURN

Ivy stopped in front of Franz Leopold, Alisa, and Luciano. She felt the flicker in Franz Leopold's mind and saw for a moment how he pulled her into his arms, but then the image was already gone, and he just stared at her with an unmoving expression.

Luciano put his arm around her shoulder, but then recoiled and lowered his gaze, embarrassed. "Ivy, what a pleasure to see you," he said awkwardly.

Only Alisa greeted her openly, embracing her warmly. "Ivy, we were wondering where you were. Mervyn didn't know either. Yes, and you too, Seymour, we missed you as well," she added and knelt before the white wolf. Since his hackles remained smooth, she petted him. Luciano preferred to keep his distance from him. Seymour had his moods and allowed only a few vampires to touch him.

Ivy was glad to see Alisa again and even the somewhat awkward Luciano, although his admiration made her a little uncomfortable. She didn't want to embarrass him, but sometimes she just didn't know how to behave towards him. She hesitated before turning to the Dracas.

"Leo, I welcome you to the Emerald Isle. I hope your enthusiasm for studying our land and its inhabitants is unabated," she said, praying her voice would sound as usual.

"Oh yes, we had the opportunity to meet your fascinating creatures tonight. Sheep, and more sheep. What a challenge for our minds!" His tone was harsh and arrogant, and Ivy struggled not to flinch. His voice had been so soft the last time he spoke to her that she had almost forgotten the cold sound that was usually hers.

"Don't act like that," Luciano retorted. "You also took quite a while to figure it out."

"And you didn't manage at all," countered Franz Leopold, turning away from them.

Alisa sighed. "You see, nothing has changed. Let's go inside. Then you can tell us how you spent your summer."

That was precisely what Ivy didn't intend to do, so she redirected the question to Luciano and listened to his flood of experiences.

"By the way, our fine librarian Leandro has disappeared without a trace," he said. Ivy listened intently and glanced at Alisa. She grimaced at the thought of the treacherous Nosferas servant who had let them down miserably in Rome.

"So Leandro has escaped his just punishment," grumbled Alisa.

Luciano shrugged. "I don't know. Either he fled, or the Conte discreetly got rid of him, although he always emphasizes that there is nothing that could justify the destruction of a vampire by another."

"If he fled, then he's now out there alone," Ivy said thoughtfully. "An outcast, about whom no one speaks anymore, who fades into oblivion yet continues to exist."

Alisa looked at her attentively. "So, you believe there might be other vampires out there who don't belong to any clan or at least not anymore?"

Ivy nodded. "Yes, that would be an explanation. However, I don't believe they can disappear without a trace. Someone must remember them. And then it's also possible to pick up their trail again." Seymour growled softly.

"So you don't think we were mistaken in Rome?" Alisa asked quietly.

Ivy shook her head. "No!" she said emphatically, and the memory of the gigantic shadow made her shudder. "No, we weren't mistaken. There's something out there..." She looked at the ring on her finger, whose lizard eyes flashed green, and once again wondered why she hadn't just thrown it into the sea. Yes, why had she even picked it up in the first place? She felt the gaze of the others and hastily hid her hand in the wide sleeves of her robe. "Let's go inside," she suggested. The three friends were the last ones still standing outside the gate. The others had long passed the drawbridge.

"I'm delighted to welcome you to Dunluce Castle," Ivy said warmly as they passed through the gate into the outer bailey and headed towards the drawbridge and the towering gatehouse behind it. In the outer courtyard, some of the Irish servants were still going about their nightly tasks, while the family had gathered as usual in the hall of Manor House to listen to a storyteller or bard in the last hours before dawn. In addition to the usual table, two long tables stood in the back of the hall, where the other young vampires were already sitting, clay cups in hand.

"Luciano, look, there's fresh blood," Ivy said, leading her friends to the last available seats.

Luciano feigned disinterest, although Ivy could feel his greed. Slowly, he strolled over to the empty stool next to Tammo. Alisa and Ivy sat opposite him.

"Ah, just what I needed," said Alisa.

"It's sheep's blood," Maurizio informed them. "They keep their own herd for those Lycana who haven't performed the ritual yet."

Ivy nodded. "Yes, they've expanded the herd over the summer many times over so that everyone can eat their fill." She looked at Luciano from the side. His hands trembled slightly, and it seemed to take all his strength not to succumb to the urge to gulp down the blood.

"You've grown over the summer," she said.

Luciano looked up and beamed at her. For a moment, he had forgotten his thirst for blood.

When the servants had cleared the cups, Alisa finally found the opportunity to ask Ivy the question that had been bothering her.

"Where were you?" How useful it would be now if she had Franz Leopold's powers.

She immediately noticed that the Viennese was still sitting too close. He had apparently caught her thought, as he bowed slightly in her direction and formed the words: "That wouldn't help you with her either!"

Ivy smiled at Alisa. "Ah, I already suspected that you wouldn't be easily deterred."

"Yes, please tell us. I'm dying of curiosity!" Alisa exclaimed.

"I consider that risk to be extremely low," Ivy retorted. "Let's just say, Seymour and I had a strenuous and very enlightening summer."

"Enlightening? You had additional lessons?" Tammo asked.

Ivy chuckled. "You could call it that."

"What? Are you serious? For a whole summer? What a terrible punishment," Tammo exclaimed loudly.

Some Lycana glanced from their seats to the heirs, and the accusation in their gaze silenced Ivy, who had been about to retort. A tall, slender vampire had stepped into the center and plucked the strings of an old-fashioned lyre. His long hair was gray, but his thick eyebrows were still black, giving his gaunt face a somber look.

"That's Turlough," Ivy informed them. "He's not a bard. He's still one of the filí and is the oldest of the poets. No one knows how old he is. Even the Ancients only report that he has always roamed the Irish mountains and moors."

"What do you mean, always?" Luciano objected. "If he's impure, then he must have lived as a human at some point and then been bitten, and if he's a pure-blood vampire of the Lycana, he must have been born at some point."

"We can't say whether he's one or the other. And he himself is not willing to talk about it."

"Even though he lives here with you at Dunluce Castle?"

Ivy waved it off. "Oh no, he never stays in one place for more than a night. For centuries now, he has led the life of a traveling bard. But originally, he was a filí, one of the highly esteemed noble poets at the court of Tara. There's a rumor that he's descended from the ancient Celtic High King Laoghaire."

"Then he would be impure," Alisa concluded. "And probably more than a thousand years old! Is that possible? When did this High King live?"

"That must have been in the middle of the 5th century. Tradition has it that Saint Patrick converted the pagan High King of Tara to Christianity. They say Turlough was the youngest son of the king. But not conceived with one of his wives, but with a moor fairy. Others say it was a sorceress who drank Laoghaire's blood."

"Oh!"

The others fell silent, impressed, and listened to the poet, who now raised his voice. It was deep and full, surrounded by the sounds of the strings. Even Tammo had a rapt expression on his face. However, this did not last long. "I don't understand him. What are these strange words? Is he singing in Gaelic? What is the story about?"

"It's the tale of the mermaid Albhine and Ruad, the son of Rigdonn, king of the mermen," Ivy explained willingly.

"And, is it exciting?" 

"But yes! It's about love and betrayal, infidelity and revenge like so many stories."

"Can a love story be exciting?" Tammo looked at her suspiciously.

Ivy chuckled. "Ruad shared his bed with the mermaid Albhine and promised her eternal fidelity, but then he sailed away and forgot her. When Ruad sailed over the sea again seven years later, Albhine waited for him and showed him his son, whom she had borne. Again, he promised to bring her home soon, but she read the lie in his heart. So she strangled the boy in front of his father's eyes and smashed his ship on a rock, so that he and his men found death in the waves."

Tammo involuntarily touched his neck. "Yes, not bad," he said loftily. However, the poet gave a much more detailed version, and so more than an hour passed until the last note faded away and he let the lyre sink. The Lycana rose solemnly, bowed, and paid their respects to the filí. Then Donnchadh urged the young vampires to go to their coffins.

"It's time for you, my proteges. The night is slipping away. Rest until evening, then another lesson awaits you."

"If only it weren't sheep again," grumbled Franz Leopold, leaving the hall before the others.

They ran through the night moor. Their paws drummed over the stony ground up here on the slopes. Peregrine had caught a stray sheep. Generously, he had left Áine the fresh blood and then set about devouring the remains. Now the moon was already disappearing behind the peaks of the Twelve Bens, and the two wolves set off side by side into the valley. The deeper they went, the more cautious they had to be. The ground turned black, damp, and slippery, and they had to dodge hidden pools under reed grass, in whose mire they would likely have sunk.

You don't have to go with me. It's late. We can part ways here. She sent her thoughts to his mind.

The large gray wolf shook his head. Time doesn't concern me. I'll take you to the mine as usual. And if you weren't so stubborn, I would accompany you to the gates of the castle.

She made a sound of alarm and looked at her companion reproachfully. We've already discussed this many times. You know what would happen. A werewolf and a vampire? Don't challenge them!

He stood next to her and licked her snout. Do you think I'm afraid?

Her barking sounded like a sad laugh. I should rather ask myself if I'm afraid for you or for those who today call themselves my family, my wild fighter. If you love me, then say goodbye to me now and return to the mountains.

To my kind. It sounded sad.

Yes, to your kind. She stopped, moved away from him a little, and disappeared into the fog cloud that was so familiar to him. When the young woman emerged, her companion had also shed his wolf form. While her skin shimmered pure white, her hair silky smooth, and her attire without a single stain, it was evident that he had spent the night in the moor. His sunken cheeks were smeared, dry leaves were tangled in his matted hair, his clothes hung dirty and torn from his lean body.

"What do you see in a creature like me?" he sighed, noticing her loving gaze.

"I have no idea," she replied with a mischievous laugh, stepping closer, pulling him close, and kissing him. "Maybe I'm crazy or longing for redemption, or I just love the thrill of danger."

"That's probably it. Take care of yourself, my beautiful Áine, until we meet again, for what would I do without you on this earth?" To his surprise, she turned away and seemed to ignore him completely. "What's wrong?"

"Quiet! Can't you feel it? There are humans on the move!"

Peregrine shrugged. "Yes, so what? They're the miners. Perhaps they're starting their work before dawn today. It's dark underground anyway, and they rely on the light of their lamps."

Áine shook her head emphatically. "No, those are not the mine workers. I know them. The windows of their cabins are dark. They're still in deep sleep. Take a whiff. The trail leads to the abandoned cabin over there under the grove of trees."

"You have sharper senses in this form. But what does it matter to us that the cabin is no longer abandoned?" Nevertheless, Peregrine followed the vampire. They slipped cautiously between thorns and bushes, careful not to make a sound, until they could see the cabin, crouching like a hunchback under the branches of one of the few remaining old trees that hadn't fallen victim to the axes and become building material for the royal fleet of England.

"Do you see," Áine whispered, pointing to the windows covered with coarse fabric, through which a reddish glow still emanated.

"Yes, there are people. But why should we care about their fate? You should make sure to return to the castle in time. The sun is near."

"Do you see the sign there on the threshold? I know it! How long has it been since I last saw it," she said, her voice dreamy and distant.

Peregrine didn't listen to her. He stared intently along the path that led from the hill down to the cabin. "I smell the little brothers. How unusual that they dare to venture so close to humans at this time."

Áine looked around searchingly. Suddenly she was grabbed by Peregrine. He pulled her close, as if to protect her. "Quick, away from here. There's still a human around. I know it, even though I can't hear him."

Confusion spread across his face. Áine, too, looked around bewildered. She could smell the wolves, but what was that human, sensed yet perceived only as a fleeting shadow?

"You should leave this place now," a voice sounded very close. It was kind and full of warmth. Then a woman emerged from the bushes. The branches rustled as the two gray wolves followed her and lay down beside her on their hind legs. Áine and Peregrine stared wordlessly at the old woman for a few moments.

"I'm sorry if the old magic confused you. I prefer to wander unnoticed by day and night," she added, smiling with her weathered face creased in a thousand wrinkles.

"Tara, what are you doing here?" Áine wanted to know.

"I'm always on the move, through the mountains and moors, up north and back again, since I first took my druid's staff in hand. But I should ask, what has brought you together here."

She looked from Áine to Peregrine, who still had his arm around her waist, and then sighed. "No, I'd rather not ask. Sometimes it's better not to know everything."

"You won't tell anyone about this, will you?" Áine said, alarmed.

"What I don't know, I can't tell. Tonight, I've only been wandering through the lonely moor," Tara replied, smiling kindly at the vampire.

Áine smiled back at the druid. "Thank you, Tara. Are you on your way to Aughnanure? Shall I accompany you?"

Tara nodded. "Yes, I'll speak at the castle and pay Gareth a visit. But I'm an old woman and not as fast on foot. You, on the other hand, are like the wind in the treetops. Hurry and go home!"

Áine placed her hand on her chest and bowed. "Then I'll see you tonight." She squeezed Peregrine's hand once more, then she was gone. Swift and silent like the shadow of a cloud skimming over the land in a storm.

The druid turned to Peregrine. "It's time for you too. It's the hour when the hunters return to their caves. They shouldn't miss you, should they?"

"And you? What are you doing here? It's no coincidence that we meet you here. You didn't follow us, did you?" He looked at her with suspiciously furrowed brows.

The old woman raised her hands defensively. "Follow you? Oh no. Our meeting is a coincidence, but it's no coincidence that I'm here at this place, as you correctly recognized."

She took a few steps towards the entrance of the cabin.

"Why is everyone interested in this miserable hut and presumably equally miserable people in it tonight?" he asked grumpily.

Tara turned to him, contemplating. "You know, in such miserable huts, the destinies of whole countries are sometimes determined. Did Áine see the sign on the threshold?"

Reluctantly, he nodded. "Then I'm not surprised that it piqued her curiosity. She is - let's say - extraordinary for her kind."

"She is!" Peregrine growled, as if he had to defend her honor. But the druid remained unruffled. "She still takes great interest in the fate of the people of this land. And she knows that sign from the time when her name was still Anne Devlin."

"Then I should keep her away from here!"

The druid regarded him with a gentle smile. "Indeed, you should, if it is within your power."

Peregrine growled, but then a smile spread across his lips. "You see much, Druid Tara." With these words, he stepped back into the bushes. A few moments later, a large gray wolf raced back into the mountains.

"If you want to get more out of your mind and body, you must first cleanse it of all harmful and unnecessary things," said the Lycana who would accompany them tonight during their studies. To their surprise, Catriona remained in the castle. Ainmire was the name of the Pure, and like those of a Great Lord, were his posture and the expression with which he regarded the young vampires. Ciarán and Berghetta stepped to his side. The vampire, although he looked a little simple, was a master of transformation, as Ivy whispered to the others. Berghetta, on the other hand, was an impressive figure.

"Cleanse your mind and body!" Ainmire repeated.

"And how does one do that?" Luciano asked, but immediately regretted his question when the Lycana turned his attention to him. Ainmire was tall and had the stature of a fighter. His dark hair fluttered in the wind. With equally dark eyes, he now looked at Luciano, making him shudder.

"We want to control nature and its creatures, so we must first open our minds to nature by exposing it and our bodies to the elements. We will first walk along the coast. Try to imitate the night birds. Feel the wind and let it carry your mind on its wings. It will make you faster, lighter, like the wild animals in the mountains."

"How long will we walk?" Luciano asked anxiously. His body was already trembling with blood hunger.

"Just a few hours," Ainmire said casually. "You have much to learn tonight."

Luciano groaned, but bravely set off when Ainmire told them to follow him. The words had barely faded when he and his two companions had already left the drawbridge behind them, and as Luciano stepped onto the wooden planks, they were already heading towards the outer gate. It was impossible to keep up with them. Outside the castle, they waited for the young heirs and then slowed their pace a little. Nevertheless, Luciano, in his fourteen-year existence, had never run like this before. Well, maybe back then during their race with Franz Leopold and his Dracas, but otherwise?

Luciano didn't think about it anymore. He thought about nothing anymore. He needed all his strength not to fall behind, yet he found himself at the rear with Ireen, Raymond, Marie Luise, and Karl Philipp, who probably just didn't want to exert himself. Only his cousin Maurizio was slower, while Alisa and Franz Leopold were right behind the Lycana.

And where was Ivy? Luciano allowed his gaze to wander and promptly fell back a few paces. There she appeared with Seymour by her side, giving him a warm smile.

"This reminds me of our race to the Castel Sant'Angelo. That was an adventure!" She danced beside him as if the wind were carrying her. Her feet seemed to barely touch the ground. "Yes, we had a good time with your family in Rome."

Luciano forced a smile and tried to run faster. "Yes, that was good. We didn't have to run such distances, but were allowed to do our exercises in the Domus Aurea or the churches and catacombs."

Ivy raised her eyebrows in surprise. "Don't you enjoy this run? Just the vast sky above us. Look over the peaceful land and the sea spreading from the foot of the cliff until it fades away in the distance. The night wind brings delightful scents and quickens our steps. Stop fighting against it. Breathe deeply and feel its scent with all your senses. You must absorb it and travel with it, for you too are a part of this nature."

Luciano suppressed his objection. That would have only cost unnecessary strength. Yet he had to admit, it was really beautiful here, and the scents were promising. Luciano looked out at the sea, which shimmered silver in the moonlight like Ivy's hair.

They now left the path that wound along the edge of the sheer cliffs and followed a steep path downwards to a rocky platform, which was repeatedly washed over by waves. The spray scattered in white foam around the regularly shaped black stone columns, which protruded from the sea like stairs or remnants of a castle wall.

"We call it Giant's Causeway," Ivy explained. "Isn't it fantastic? The Druid Tara claims that a giant volcano once rose here, whose black lava streams, when cold and hard, divided into these columns, but the legend tells something else."

Luciano listened to her story about the giant who wanted to build a dam and suddenly realized that they were no longer at the end of the group. Running no longer seemed to strain him so much, although the path now ascended and led in several steps back up to the cliff. Sometimes the ground was black and rocky, then again bright red-brown.

Luciano didn't know how long they had been on the way, but it seemed to him that he could now run further and further. A laugh rose in his throat.

"What's wrong? What are you laughing about?" Ivy asked.

"Nothing specific. I just felt like it," Luciano replied.

They walked for a while longer, then Ainmire stopped and pointed to an island off the coast. It wasn't particularly large, but a deep chasm separated it from the mainland. With thunderous noise, the waves drove the water through the gap, so that the spray almost splashed up to them. A narrow suspension bridge led to the other side.

"The fishermen come out here to catch salmon," Ivy said to Luciano, who followed her onto the swaying bridge. "They go right around the rock. That's why the fishermen call it carrick-a-rede, or rock in the way."

"And what do we do now?" Alisa asked when they were all over, looking questioningly at the Lycana, whose long hair fluttered in the night wind.

"Now you have purified body and mind. Feel the power that resides in land and sea, and absorb it into yourselves. There are magical places where ley lines converge. This is one of them. If you learn to sense them, you can strengthen yourselves at them." He stretched his arms out to the sides and tilted his head back.

"He's completely out of his mind," Anna Christina complained. Her cousin Karl Philipp nodded.

"I already thought the year in Rome was a complete waste of time, but this is a farce for which I have no words!" 

"The Irish are a bit strange," said Ireen, looking to Malcolm as if expecting his agreement. He hesitated.

"Well, they are certainly different from us."

"They're insane!" Raymond said unusually firmly.

Ainmire lowered his arms and looked over to the Dracas and the Vyrad, but his tone remained calm.

"Absorb as much of the earth's energy as you can, and then we'll find a suitable place for your lesson today. Halfway here, I sensed a lot of life at the base of the cliffs. That's where we'll start." And then he was gone. Luciano turned around and could just see him jump from the suspension bridge to the shore. The other two Lycana followed him closely.

"I can't believe it. We've walked all the way here for nothing and now we have to go halfway back?" 

"Not at all for nothing!" Ivy corrected him, helping Seymour over the wobbly planks. "Didn't you listen? This place strengthens us. Can't you feel it?"

Luciano wanted to protest and tell her that all he could feel was exhaustion and gnawing hunger, but then he noticed how refreshed he felt and strangely light. With a smile on his lips, he followed Ivy.