ppl and father had been done prior, swords grasped tightly in their hands for some reason, by the figures that now had eyes set on my little sister.

I could only watch dying as it tore open her chest and squeezed the contents of her heart down its throat.

The focus of my eyes began to wane. My final sight was my dear sister's blood spilling from behind the sharpened canines of its satisfied smile.

And then a bright light. My vision would not entirely return. I could make out the silhouette of several figures.

I try to move. But nothing responded. I try to call out for help but a voice I didn't recognize came out in a language I wasn't familiar with.

Despite that I could hear and understand the outside world.

"Its a boy!"

--------------------------------------

5 years has passed since I was attacked on that snowy day. I had come to understand that on that day I had died and through some divine intervention was immediately reincarnated as an infant.

No reincarnation is wrong. More like I was able to start another life from the beginning.

"Oh hello little one." A voice as sweet as cake called out to me as I made my way down the spiraling staircase.

This voice belonged to my second mother. The mother who gave birth to this second me. She wore her long blonde hair in a elegant ponytail that hung down her nape and kissed her cremelike skin

"Reese. You are up early today as well. Eager for morning training I presume." My second father's voice chimed in with its deep almost godly pitch. It was almost as if Morgan Freeman had gifted it to my second father himself. "Such a splendid son we have Chareen."

My father was a man among men from the voice to his physique. His bronze like skin could be mistaken as chocolate depending on lighting and though scarred from living an eventful life was without blemish.

"Yes dear. Though please be aware he is barely but a fledgling despite his talent." Second mother smiles cheerfully.

"Can I watch Daddy?" This third voice belong to my elder sister, Lyrica.

She was already eleven by now and though her long hair and incredible looks gave a soft feminine feel, she was a tomboy through and through. She already had years of training under her belt. And was held in high regards.

My second father, second sister, and I approach the front door and before leaving he coats both Lyrica and I in nightshade to protect us from the sun.

I am tossed a wooden sword. The moment I catch it I raise it above my head to cut off the downward slash from my second father's own sword.

He then disappears from in front of me and is behind me. My eyes follow him. Our gazes meet a my weapon deflected his.

We exchanged blows and although it were mere seconds, for us it felt as if minutes had passed.

"Not bad, your blood should have only just become active yet its already developed to an extent where you can follow my movements. Our clan my not be pure blooded but you are still the son of a great general it seems." He laughed heavily. "You threaten to outdo even your sister."

"Yeah right? Even if he trained a hundred more years he couldn't catch up to me. I'd never give you the chance."

Lyrica smirked.

"Because father is holding back a lot it seems that way." I reply.

Laughter boomed from his throat.

"Naturally. However, still you are nothing short of a prodigy. The both of you. Your growth sometimes makes me question your paternity."

"Naturally."

Lyrica poked her chest out pridefully. She was always the type.

Prodigy huh? But that is to be expected with my abilities. Truth is the blood in me had already been active since birth and I've been steadily strengthening myself since I realized what came with it.

I had become the very existence that ended me and my first family. I was reincarnated. I was reincarnated as a vampire. The son a semi famous former knight who had long since retired.

Years have gone by and and as of today I'm 10 years old. A very special day for vampire kind. Today I choose a capable attendant to turn.

That is to turn a human into a member of our kind. In exchange for submission to their maker they gain the immense power of us devils and become familiars.

At this moment my second father held his steel blade, having upgrade our training swords from wood, high over his head. The color of his eyes a deep orange. His close cropped hair a silverish white.

An aura of pure night emanated from his body and began to swirl around his sword. With a swift slash he slung the condensed aura cutting through the trees of our practice field.

"Its called 'Dark Moon'. A technique that combines aura and swordsmanship. With the wide spread availability of forearms and technology the craft of swordsmanship has been mostly abandoned even by our kind."

Second farther looked at his sword and sighed.

"Your sister mastered quite a few of our families techniques and even developed some of her own by the time she set off into the world to develop and grow into her own as I expect you to undoubtedly follow suit. Still, it saddens me that the sword has lost its value."

"Well guns are useful. Even with using bloodaura to strengthen our bodies its hard when against automatics."

His eyes narrowed and he flared his nose. He walked to our bags of equipment and returned tossing me a gun.

"Fire it at me. Dump every ounce of your immense bloodaura into it."

Huh?

"But father..."

"Do as I say." He was stern and his eyes held conviction.

My eyes became orange and the strands of my hair became silvery. My aura, a deep violet that seemed to almost be outline by a thin layer of red, crackled and engulfed the hand canon in my hands.

I increased velocity and weight. I was ready to fire. It would be near impossible for me to defend against it at this almost point blank range even if I gave it all I had.

I hesitate. Then squeeze the trigger. The bullet raced free leagues faster than I thought it would. and raced past my second father. His eyes and hair the same color as mine as he side stepped and glided closer to me stopping his sword at my throat.

"Ngh!?"

I couldn't utter a word. Shock had stolen them away. The bullet was moving at a speed faster than him yet he avoided it like the difference was inconsequential. It meant nothing to him.

"Firearms are indeed a valuable tool, I myself have extensive training using them. And while they do pack insane stopping power and speed, there lies their greatest weakness."

"Weakness?"

"With so much speed and power changing its trajectory is an insurmountable feat. By simply observing and taking note of the tiny movements of your muscles as you move I can predict your actions and act in advance. Such is the true merit of swordsmanship."

"Walther." The voice of my second mother called out to her husband from the backyard of our humble yet massive home.

We were deep in the forest several football fields from her yet we could hear her as if she were in the same room.

For the past five years my second father and I have been training me in the use of my aura as part of our daily training. It was to the point it was almost a match to his own.

Using that as a bases I was trained to constantly feed a small stream of it to all my senses in order to keep them heightened and reinforced- even while sleeping or otherwise incapacitated.

Of course that wasn't easy but after a couple of years I had mastered it so even through the distance I could hear her.

Upon reaching home I quickly bathed and dressed in a shabby three piece suit. Before I knew it our abode was swarmed with those I recognized as low birth nobles and other former Knights like my second father.

Most were vampires. Some human.

The humans were there to be turned or to be eaten. They had no future outside of that.

My second father approached the head of the room and things grew quiet for him to speak.

"Think you all for coming. I am your host Walther L. Steiner and welcome to my loft."

A round of applause erupted. It seemed second father was quite popular despite being a commoner turned noble due to recognition during the war.

"Today we are gathered to welcome these five young fledglings onto the the path of adulthood. Today these five solidify their first imprints and establish their own sub familia."

Second father motions to me and the four other youths around my age. We all stand proudly.

My second father gives my que to step forward and be the first to select the human I wished to imprint with.

There were plenty to choose from, enough for everyone to pick two or three. They looked eager to sell there souls to the devil. Some looked like they wanted power. Others sought after youth. All of them had a look that I detected as deception.

"Why must this brat go first? I am of a higher stature. Plus I am older and as such stronger."

All eyes turned to the blonde kid with the bowl cut hair. The boys father step in from the crowd.

"Liam! Still yourself. Do not make a mockery of the Alexander name."

"But Father..."

Liam's father scrunched his face in displeasure.

I bow to him.

"Please allow him the honor of first, Count Alexander. And allow me the honor of being a gracious host by letting all to proceed before me."

His face softens. "You have raised a fine boy Walther."

After everyone else had chosen it was finally my turn. As you would imagine the others had already chosen the biggest, the strongest- the best...at least in the eyes of children. But I was already in my mid twenties when I had died and didn't see the world through such simplistic views.

I valued true loyalty. Not the forced submission that relied on the power of an imprint. I also desired something that answered to me alone and could be molded into whatever I desired at any moment. For it would be needed for my ultimate goal of revenge.

But I wouldn't find it amongst these. The greed in their eyes would lead towards insatiable ambition. They are willing to give up humanity for a taste of power after all.

None of them were what I needed.

A commotion could be heard just outside the main hall. In burst several men in black suits. They could pass as CIA if they wanted. They were the guards that served my second father. His imprints.

Between them was a small child not much older than myself. Her caramel skin was tainted pale from a combination of malnutrition and sickness.

Her jet black hair was matted and mixed with dirt as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"We found this thing stealing food. What do you wish to do with it my lord?"

Before he could answer I stepped down and approached her. "Father..."

She looked up and her eyes meet mine. A single scar stretched across her freckled face from below one eye, over the bridge of her nose, and ending underneath the other eye. Her cough was terrible and I could tell the dire state she was in. I doubt she would last a few more days.

Yet her eyes held something different than the others. They were strong. It wasn't greed but survival. They were not deceitful but instead called out for the right to live.

But most importantly I could feel the presence of death on her. One that resonated with my own past.

"I choose her father."

Second father's eyes widened.

"Reese. These candidates before you all come respectable standings in the human world. Wouldn't one of them be a better fit for you?"

"No. There will never be a better fit than this one here."

"Her body is frail, sick, and without sustenance. Even with your abundance of aura your blood holds turning her now would be dangerous for you. She is only a mere step from death.

I faced him. "You have always had faith in my judgement father I ask you to showcase that faith now."

He relented. Yes! I took a page out of my former sister's playbook.

The guards dropped the girl on my father's command. I bend to my knee and offer my hand.

"My name is Aries Christopher Steiner."