Part 17

A storm rages above the Vampyric Order's headquarters and large waves crash violently against the sandy shore nearby. Thunder rumbles low off in the distance.

"One... Two... One... Two..."

Huff... huff... huff...

"One... two--"
The Headquarters' regal door chime is suddenly heard over the sound of leather hitting leather.
The jabs stop.

"I don't recall issuing you an invitation."
A man with sharp features opens the door and greets the visitor coldly.
"To what do we owe the... pleasure?"

Their voices are low and hushed.

"Have you come to file a claim with the Order?"

"Ezekiel..." the visitor says, smirking. "Still the same as always, I see."

A young man approaches, covered with a thin sheen of sweat.
"Saint Germain?" He eyes him with a playful glance, moving so he can see the visitor's face clearly.
"No shit! It really is you!"

The young man radiates excitement.
"Never thought I'd see you back in this dump!" he says, jokingly. "Where've you been, man? We've mis--well, I've missed you. Can't really say the same for Gabriella though, dude, y'know what I'm sayin'?"
He knocks Saint Germain on the shoulder playfully.

"Tyler," Ezekiel gives the younger man a frosty look. "A shirt, if you please."

"Oh, right..." Tyler says, looking down at himself. He chuckles then turns back towards the corridor from which he came.
"We gotta catch up, Saint G.! I'll be right back--don't leave without a goodbye this time!"
He scampers off.

Ezekiel lets out an exasperated sigh as he follows Tyler with his eyes.

He turns back to Saint Germain. The tension is now only slightly lifted between them.
"Wait here." he says. "Council shall convene shortly."
Ezekiel's cloak whips behind him as he takes his leave.
Almost immediately a bell is rung signalling for a gathering to begin. The Order's members begin to file into the main hall one by one.

As Tyler makes his way upstairs he sees a young woman dressed in black heading to join the others. He slows down and makes sure to catch her eye.
"Gabriella." he whispers.

"Guess who's back!"

He continues down the hall, whistling happily.

Gabriella makes her way downstairs, only pausing briefly to glance at the unexpected visitor.
So, it is him... she thinks to herself. How long has it been?
Saint Germain continues to stare absently at the rug beneath his feet.

Gradually, seats are filled one by one. The last to arrive are two girls with light colored hair and pale eyes. They sit beside one another and do not speak.
Saint Germain silently stands at attention before the members of the Order, avoiding eye contact.
They await the arrival of their highest ranking member.

Confident footsteps eventually echo throughout the large hall as the leader of the Order makes his way to the head of the U-shaped table.
The members are quiet as he approaches--not out of fear, but reverence.

The imposing man sits directly ahead of Saint Germain.
He regards him carefully, as if seeing him for the first time.
The crackling of fire echos against the pale brick walls as the silence in the room continues.

"Welcome, Saint Germain. That is what you call yourself these days, I hear." There is kindness in the older man's eyes, but distinct authority in his deep, accented voice.
"I can only imagine the reasons why you might return to this place after so long, enduring so many difficult memories of times long passed." he continues, "Why don't you enlighten me? I am sure everyone here is eager to know what mission we have been brought by such an esteemed former member." He speaks slowly and with a hint of jest, gesturing lightly to the others gathered around the table.

Saint Germain looks away from the older man, pondering how best to put thoughts into words.
"There has been an... incident, involving a mortal woman," he begins. "She has been taken captive by a vampyre--one whom the Order was searching for." His eyes are downcast.
He relives the night that Wolfgang bested him in battle, successfully abducting Karina and leaving Saint Germain barely alive.
"I have determined the best course of action is to report directly to the Order and request assistance in this matter," he finally continues, "as I am bound by a gentleman's agreement to find this woman and return her to her family, no matter what the cost."
The room is silent as the group tries to assimilate this information.

"A gentleman's agreement, you say? How very unlike you to meddle in human affairs," replies the older man, fascination coloring his voice.

He then slowly sits forward in his chair, eyes fixed upon Saint Germain's troubled face.
"I have heard rumors that you have a mortal residing in your home." he says quietly.
The members at the table shift uncomfortably in their seats at the sudden change in mood.
"Surely I need not remind you of the risk?"

Saint Germain remains stoically silent.
Tension mounts in the great hall.

"I also know that Luka has been acting as somewhat of a personal bodyguard for this boy, at your insistence." The man leans back in his chair, resting his chin slightly on his elegant fingers. "You do realize we are already short handed. We cannot have members go absent from their duties simply to protect a single human, now can we?"
There is a pause as the man thinks.
"Allow me to offer you a choice," he finally says, "As you seem unable to protect this mortal and honor your 'agreement' single-handedly, I can quite easily spirit the young man away to a place you will never find him, thus ensuring his safety from those of our kin who may wish you harm. You can fulfill your mission and carry on with your life in solitude as you see fit, just as you have done for these many long years."

"Or," he continues, "I can give you all the protection and assistance you desire... in exchange for your loyalty."

Saint Germain's face falls as somber thoughts cloud his mind.
He battles with indecision.
Is my loyalty to those I've lost greater than to those that now live?
Minutes pass as he struggles with his convictions.

Finally, Saint Germain speaks.
"I hereby swear my loyalty to you, Malcolm Gould, master of the Vampyric Order... under pain of death."

"Your pledge is accepted and answered in kind."
Malcolm Gould regards Saint Germain, a nostalgic longing in his eyes.

"I have missed you... my son."

Continue to Part 18...