Chapter 1

†

He didn't know when it had dawned on him, but as that realization struck his core, echoing out a tune of regret and contemplated yearning, it made his dormant heart waver. The century's worth of knowledge he had gained, only brought forth waves of nauseous understanding. The things that he took for granted, like the sting of oxygen that once circulated through his body, seemed like a fabrication of time. The reality of his existence was deemed significant and historic, but it meant nothing as it could not determine his worth and value. Morals and faith had blurred around the edges, and only the important questions were left unanswered in his waking path.

He was tired of it all; exasperated to the brink of destructive boredom.

It was time for a change.

†

Glass shatters as a man is thrown out through the second story window. The broken fragments twinkle under the glow of the moon as the figure gracefully lands on the soles of his feet, unfazed and uninjured. Brushing the shards off his shoulders, he grimaces as an ear shattering screech echoes from the mansion behind him.

"You traitor!" a voice roars, "don't you dare think you can walk away from us!" The words fade into a sharp growl, "damn it, Minseok, let go of me!"

Scanning the window with its broken glass and bickering voices, the man simply shakes his head and turns his back to the manor. With each stride towards the woods that surrounded the large mansion, he left behind the pieces of who he once was in a decree of silent abandonment.

"Kris, are you sure about this?" came a soft whisper near the treeline. Emerging from the shadows, with his translucent skin glowing against the night, the man blocks Kris's furious march.

"Get out of my way, JoonMyun." Kris’s voice was gentle, but laced with an underlying threat. A frown mars his smooth forehead in displeasure.

JoonMyun parts his lips to speak, but another piercing howl of frustration cuts through the night air. He scowls as his gaze travels towards the mansion. "You better get some distance if you don't want Jongdae to come after your throat," he mutters, blinking back to Kris and his stoic stare.

"Aren't you going to persuade me to stay?" Kris quirks an eyebrow with slight amusement.

JoonMyun purses his lips, tilting his head slightly in bemused thought, "even if I wanted to, I don't think I could. I mean, physically stopping you is impossible." Although JoonMyun was strong, Kris was much stronger.

"Besides, you'll come back after your tantrum,” JoonMyun concludes, giving a careful smile, “you always do."

"No," Kris murmurs, steadily meeting JoonMyun's curious look, "I'm done for good. My title, my position, my name, I'm leaving everything behind."

"But the Book of Moir--"

"Overwritten." Kris states, the corners of his lips twitching in memory. The look of horror when Jongdae walked in on him was priceless. With his bloody hand smearing the ancient text in a spell to erase his name from its bloodline, Kris has never seen the usually composed Jongdae erupt with pure anger.

JoonMyun frowns, eyes narrowing into suspicious slits. "Then, you had to replace your name with someone else's'..."

"Yours." Kris watches as JoonMyun's confused gaze morph into that of shock, and then into stunned silence. "I wrote your name in replacement of my now discarded one," he whispers, "you're the Lord of the House now, Duke of Moir. And I'm certain you'll do better than me."

Feeling a sudden rush of wind against his face, Kris blinks and to find himself pinned up against a tree. He looks to JoonMyun’s hand wrapped around his neck, he felt the fingers tightening, but the pain barely registered. He feigns ignorance as the pale man glowers at him; pupils dilating in rage and the usual black eyes turning a deep, bloody red. It was a shuddering contrast to his usual, calm exterior.

"Change it," JoonMyun hisses. "Did you think I was going to take over your position with gratitude?" He snarls, baring his elongated canines in vehemence. The tree behind Kris groans from the external pressure. "I don't want that position handed to me like some second-hand crap. If I want to be Lord, I'll win it off of you like a proper leader would."

"You don't want it?" Kris mutters, bringing one foot up and colliding it with JoonMyun's abdomen. He stands back on his own feet, smoothing out his shirt and stretching his neck as he watches JoonMyun fly and crash into the trunk of a large oak; the moan of the old tree reverberates around the clearing. "Then don't take it, it makes no difference to me." He spins around on his heels and walks away further into the woods.

"You'll be dead to us, Kris. You hear me? Dead!" JoonMyun shouts, watching with fluttering unease as the Lord of their house, and possibly the underworld’s most feared vampire, disappear into the shadows of the forest.

"We're already dead, JoonMyun," Kris quietly murmurs, grinning at the irony of the statement. He brings up his fingers and weaves a cross against the empty air. A black opening emerges and he strides in. He hears JoonMyun’s frustrated cry in the distance, and the sound of a tree snapping, as the opening closes behind him.

The night forest echoes with a dull thud of a massive oak, as the snarls of aggravation rang the tune of betrayal, rich and clear.

†

Kris trails his fingers across the book spines, the row of historical literature references blends into modern science fiction, leaving a pang of nostalgia over