Affairs Amongst Immortals {POLY}

☆Ritual Gone Wrong (pt.3)☆

(3rd person pov)

"I'm ready, Mother," Vrena muttered, becoming angry.

Chadona, Vrena's mother, was a mix of emotions. The main two, excited and nervous.

Chadona cupped her cheeks "Oh, you are getting wrinkles!"

"Mother," Vrena glared.

It was no lie that vampires had a constant need to feel as young as possible. They lived for millions of years, after all. That meant rituals, some once a month, some once a year.

"Can we start?"
"Once the servant gets here," she let her go, making it clear she was annoyed, by practically swatting Vrena's head away.

Vlirmir was their servant, Vrena's servant, to be specific. Most of the wealthy vampires had one. And she had reminded him to come just for this reason: That her mother would start to fume.

Vrena only sighed and sat on the edge of her coffin.

"Sit like a lady, you can't expect to get a man with that posture," her mother scoffed.

That was fine with her.

"S-sorry I'm late, Miss!" Vlirmir came running into the shack, and he'd changed the honorific.

It was a dingy place, made of rotting wood and barely holding up after all the battle going on around it. A shabby curtain was used as the door, it was covered in dirt and blood splatters. Vlirmir had made a disgruntled face when he'd walked through it but had quickly softened his expression when he'd seen Chadona glaring at him.

Maybe Vrena did have a soft spot for the little nerd, because she thought her mother was blowing it way out of proportion. He wasn't even five minutes late.

"It's fine, Vlirmir," she told him.

"It is not fine!" her mother cried, "She could've done all this without you, you know! You wouldn't have gotten paid!"

"You were the one who wanted to wait for him, Mother," she softened her usual death glare.

"You need to raise your standards, Vrena!"
"He is my servant, I will set my standards for him," she fought back.

Vlirmir stood small in the corner, holding his notebook over his chest, his big glasses drooping down the bridge of his nose.

"He's here now, and we're starting."

Chadona rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, tapping an impatient foot.

Vrena began to set herself into position, lying in her coffin, she smoothed out her dress.

"If only your father were here." Her mother sighed, trying to get under her skin.

But Vrena only pushed down an angry sigh, "Can you not do this right now?" she snapped.

"Fine...fine," Chadona hummed innocently. "Start the sleep spell now, Vlirmir."

"Right, of course," he nodded and quickly opened his notebook, flipping through the pages and secretly begging to a higher essence to get out of the situation.

But before he could read off the first word, Vrena heard something crack in the distance, and although her ears weren't the best, since almost everything in the town had been blown to shreds from the ongoing battles, in the creaking, broken old shack, it was easy to hear things. Even the smallest drop of a pen.

"Mother?"

"I know you're nervous, honey. Don't worry, I was too when I was your age, however-"
"No," Vrena cut Chadona off, "it's not that. I'm not nervous. I heard a noise, in the bushes outside."