The Fifth Chapter
Her stepmom said that she’s an Elemental Vampire.
According to her, it is one of the nine supernatural abilities that a vampire and werewolf can possess. An Elemental can spark flames in a snap and summon vicious storms in a single glance and can even break windows via the Elemental’s wind abilities.
Nonetheless, she liked it anyway. She felt identical to X-men’s Storm and Beautiful Creatures’ Lena Duchannes. Romaine said that she’s still a “baby vampire”, which means that her abilities are not that vivid yet. It can be triggered mostly by extreme emotions like anger or fury. It takes three long months to fully prosper one’s powers, sometimes longer depending on the entity’s constant feeding.
***
It’s a miracle that she’s already awake at four in the morning. Well, she should be; considering the fact that her ten-page English essay wasn’t even started. Cramming has devoured Rozelyn like a serpent mangling a dove.
After taking a refreshing morning shower, Rozelyn went downstairs and found her stepmom cooking her breakfast for a fresh Monday start. Golden hues bathe their kitchen dining—courtesy of the morning sun’s beaming light.
A traditional English breakfast was laid in front of her. She’s not very much into this full breakfast; just a small bowl of porridge can actually sustain her for the entire morning. Nevertheless, they’re in Northern Ireland anyway. So, a full English breakfast doesn’t really bother her.
“I’m sorry about the windows, Romaine.” Rozelyn apologized while munching her Hungarian sausage.
“It’s alright, sweetie. I’m glad that our family now has a firestarter and a storm summoner,” Romaine teasingly stated.
“Another thing, Roz,” Her stepmom continued.
“Be careful wherever you go. Even though you’re a vampire, you’re still inexperienced. You may still get hurt. Also, watch out for Ludwig Vergara. That man is oozing with avarice.”
“Don’t worry, I will. I’ll use my anxiety to summon earthquakes and wildfire if ever someone will hurt me,” Rozelyn jokingly muttered.
“I guess you can just use your fangs and claws, Rosie.”
The family’s werewolf just came out of the shower. His topless appearance made Roz tremble a bit on the inside and ignited her natural feminine desires.
However, her stepmom—who happens to be a mind-reading Astral Vampire —insultingly mumbled to her telepathically.
He’s smoking hot, isn’t he?
Rozelyn made a face and stuck out her tongue to Romaine while the lad was fetching himself a black coffee.
I’m not Cersei Lannister, Romaine.
She replied mentally and was stomping her right foot benignly. Her stepmom’s eyes narrowed and raised her brow.
So I’ve heard.
A melting pot of irritation began to stir within Rozelyn’s.
I only admire his incomparable beauty, stepmom.
She replied like the calm before the storm.
“Are you two conversing mentally?”
The Pasiphae Werewolf, who can duplicate anyone’s powers, asked while buttoning his cream-colored long sleeves.
Rozelyn cleared her throat and said, “Nothing. I was just mumbling my amendments for yester night’s occurrence.”
Cyrill stares at her with an austere gaze and Rozelyn can’t help but to endure the piercing look of her stepmom’s pup.
Romaine was just smirking in the corner near the walk-in pantry. If Rozelyn can just summon a tornado and carry her teasing stepmom to Kansas, she would wittingly do it.
Afterwards, the three then gladly have their breakfast together before they depart to their respective fields.
***
Rozelyn can’t get over their last lecture for the day.
“I can’t believe that certain serial killers actually have a heartfelt backstory,” She murmured to herself while walking towards the college’s gate exit. She always have odd opinions when it comes to eerie and grotesque topics.
“Perhaps they’re vampires…or a spawn of a vampire,” Rozelyn seems to think eccentrically. Perhaps being a newly activated vampire affects the way one perceives things—either in a bizarre way or in an alluring manner. She also gradually began to understand the chasm between mortals and her kind. Perhaps being a vampire made Rozelyn learn a lot of things—particularly with her way of upholding one’s self and radiating her attributes to the people around her.
As she resumed walking towards the gate, she saw the woman who raised her dressed in vibrant chartreuse, ornamented with pearls along the bodice.
“Where are you going?” She asked with a wide grin.
“Not ‘you’, darling. ‘We’,” Romaine responded while hoisting her yellow green mini bag into the air.
“We?”
“Yes.”
“But, where are we going?”
Romaine hands her a paper bag that seems to contain a lavish blue dress; she then leans into Rozelyn’s ear.
“Get dressed in the car. You’ll know where we’re going as soon as we arrive,” Romaine whispered with a wink.
***
The place was filled with melancholic music as the orchestra played Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata. The staggering heights and the jaw-dropping interiors of this Galway Concert Theatre was absolutely exquisite. The dazzling intramural design resembles Westminster’s Vaudeville Theatre.
But, Rozelyn was oozing with jealousy—not because of the place but because of the people performing at the center. Honestly speaking, Rozelyn was always envious of musicians every time she saw an orchestra. She’s not actually that gifted when it comes to music. She had always wished that she had their flawless skills since she was a little girl. Rozelyn is apparently an ambitious person—to the point that she wished she could do everything perfectly. She’s also kind of a perfectionist if you put it that way.
When she was twelve years old, she always wished under a falling star that one day, she’ll be a musical prodigy or a singing diva.
But, Lady Luck doesn’t always come to everyone and everything. She even struggles to pluck or strum a guitar, how much more playing a violin for an exclusive orchestra. Most of all, her voice was candidly horrible. She sounded like a dying chicken when belting out Celine Dion’s All By Myself.
Despite all this, Rozelyn’s gifts are more inclined in strategic planning. There is indeed an exclusive talent and ability in each one of us—if only we learn to recognize it and hone it to its best potential. She’s always been a chess champion ever since she was in grade school. Before her father’s untimely passing, Eku taught her the basics and fundamentals of this board game.
Hence, she’s very much adept and proficient in playing. Because, every time she plays, she always remembers her father’s sparkling eyes and joyous voice guiding her. Every time she plays, it feels like she’s just competing with her father.
Her favorite piece was the knight; so was her father’s. In spite of all the hardships she faces, she always keeps her father’s teaching within her heart. In every chess tournament she plays, it was for the man who sacrificed himself for the sake of his family. In every chess game she participated, was her father’s very essence.
“Your tears will flood the entire room, Rozelyn,” Henriz Salvador spoke while packing his violin in the case.
“Sorry, I didn’t notice you there, Henriz,” She apologized awkwardly.
The man was Cyrill’s on-off boyfriend according to Anaztasia. Rozelyn was obviously upset of Cyrill’s overall preference in people. He was currently wearing a simple black tuxedo with a plaid tie.
This man probably doesn’t have knowledge on “Being Handsome 101”. Since she already met his current boyfriend, sooner or later, she will definitely confess to Cyrill come hell or high water—or perhaps she can do it later after this fabulous performance. She was obviously more luscious and voluptuous and more talented in a bare-skinned tango.
“Cyrill’s concerto will be the last one. You better witness his magnificent performance or he’ll surely bite you.”
Henriz then strolled towards the back stage to prepare for his next performance.
***
The grand hall was then flooded with revelry and clapping when Vivaldi's Winter began to play; Cyrill as the violin soloist.
His eloquent and brilliant stroking of the violin was absolutely outstanding. He raised and lowered his arms gracefully while in tune with the conductor’s direction. The tempo and melody was indeed rich and fitting to the concerto’s ambience.
The maestro was in his mid-thirties. His towering height in the center seems to be the star of the show. But to Rozelyn, the apple of her eye was Cyrill—who’s smoothly stroking in sautillé and ricochet as the climax part of the concerto was executed in a quintessential manner.
She was in absolute awe and veneration to him; not just in terms of his charisma and talents but to him holistically.
***
“That was flawless, Mr. Clarke.”
Ludwig Vergara, the Shamrock’s sheriff, congratulated him as Cyrill went over to his family’s place in the music hall.
“Thank you, Mr. Vergara,” He uttered his thanks then proceeded to a masculine curtsy bow.
“There you are Mr. Clarke,” a pale and slender woman in a little black dress mumbled behind Ludwig. Her citrine eyes grinned in a luxurious style. Her ashen gray hair wobbles delicately that indeed emphasizes her suave mien. Rozelyn’s eyes then narrowed at the sight of the woman.
“Ms. Maebh Mullin. What a pleasant surprise for attending my adoptive son’s performance,” Romaine greeted with a wide mirthless smile.
“Of course. I am one of Shamrock’s self-made elite. It is my honor to attend such a prestigious event, considering the fact that this concert was for fundraising and charity.”
Maebh then switched her gaze to Rozelyn, who was wearing a royal blue lace up dress that emphasizes the latter’s curves and cleavage.
Maebh was always the kind of woman who wants to be the center of attraction—even if it means to downgrade anyone and treat them with inferiority.
Maebh was once just an orphan before she was adopted by the rich Mullin family. She used to be just one of their maids when the family’s only daughter mysteriously died. To cope up with grief and distress, the Mullin family adopted the thin and feverish Maebh and she eventually reached the high-standard society through wealth and affinity with the elites. Therefore, she was a self-made elite not just because of hard work, but also because of a sudden luck.
“And you are the daughter of the late Visenna Byrnes, aren’t you?”
Rozelyn tried to look placid in front of this bitch. If only she could split the earth open and have this woman swallowed forever beneath the ground, she would delightfully do it.
“Yes, Ms. I am Rozelyn Nadeshiko Zadzisai.” She then forced a smile and bowed her head clemently.
“Such a sweet girl you are!” Maebh remarked as she sip her martini in a feminine grace.
“Pity that your mother passed early. Though she was a bit gossipy amidst her job of being a journalist, I never thought she’d bore such a sweet and courteous girl like you.”
That’s it. Rozelyn can no longer contain her growing rage and vehemence in shaming this black-dressed whore.
In a blink of Rozelyn’s eye, Maebh’s little black dress began to spark in flames. The crowd began to dole in hysteria. The panicked Maebh then unknowingly splash some white wine in her burning dress, causing the fire to grow even bigger.
Luckily, Henriz grabbed some huge wet damp cloth and dumped it into the billionaire’s flaming dress. The fire slowly began to vanish, until the embers were no longer vivid in the room.
On the other hand, Rozelyn was being lectured in the corner by her stepmom—who seized her as soon as the flames started—on why the hell she unleashed her elemental gifts in the midst of hundreds of spectators.
“How many times I tell you to keep that fire only within yourself!”
Romaine’s angry mother-like mode has turned on.
“And what the hell did you do that I can no longer access your mind, huh?” Her stepmom interrogated her firmly.
“I don’t know. I’m tired of being constantly listened to as if I’m a specimen under a microscope!” Rozelyn declared furiously.
“You…you didn’t do anything to block your mind from me?”
Rozelyn naively shook her head.
Romaine seems to be muted for a time. She can’t believe the happenings she’d been witnessing. How can she explain this to her fellow kind?
Romaine’s definitely sure that Rozelyn is not a Pasiphae like Cyrill. Pasiphaes cannot block their mind from Astrals.
“What is it that bothers you, Romaine?”
Romaine, even though she’s still bamboozled, took a deep breath and faced her stepdaughter.
“You’re a Thaumaturge.”
