𝕵uliette, a young woman with the ability to manipulate memories, had the misfortune of becoming an immortal.
A vampire who never knew the value of living, her entire human life she had been lacking any joy or excitement, until she was turned in 20...
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"ᴛʜᴇ ɪᴍᴘᴏʀᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴏғ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs"
The winter breeze blew through the mountains, the cold air subtly singing a small lullaby in each immortals' ear.
Juliette effortlessly held a pile of fire wood in her arms, tossing it onto the ground where Jacob had dropped his pile of fire wood, her eyes flicked toward Benjamin.
His fingers engulfed with flickering flames, lighting up his hand.
He tossed them at the firewood, creating a campfire for Jacob, to warm himself up, whereas Juliette sat on the furtherest seat from them.
"That's what I'm talking about." The shifter stated, "A little pre battle bonfire, telling war stories."
A hum came from the second latest newborn, the light blonde glancing at the wolf before staring at the source of heat.
"Or just standing there like freaking statues." He trailed off.
With a soft whoosh, Garrett sat beside me, "Name any American battle. I was there." He challenged Jacob, glancing at Juliette before staring into the fire.
Jacob thought deeply, "Little big horn."
"I came this close to biting Custer, but the Indians got him first." Garrett answered, resulting in the Romanian woman's laugh.
Another whoosh signalled an immortal's appearance, it was the nomad's mate from the Denali coven, Kate, "Try Oleg's assault on Constantinople. He didn't win that one on his own."
The Irish coven appeared opposite of them, "If you're talking battles, you're talking the Eleven Years War. No one does rebellion like the Irish," Liam says with confidence.
"You lost the Eleven Years War." Garrett spoke up.
"Ay, but it was one hell of a rebellion." He answered.
Garrett raised his pointer finger at the Irish man, smirking at him as they shared an understanding through battle stories.
Vladimir & Stefan started storytelling, "When we ruled, everything came to us. Prey, diplomats, favour seekers. Such was our power, but we never put on white hats and called ourselves 'saints'."
"We were honest about what we were." Stefan added.
"We sat still, for a very long time, we didn't notice that we were beginning to petrify." The pale blonde glanced at his coven mate, Stefan, who spoke up, "Perhaps the volturi did us a favour when they... burned our castles."
The light blonde Romanian woman sighed, hearing this story again.
"We've been waiting fifteen hundred years to return that favour." Vladimir glanced over at Juliette, their resolve.
The immortals and shifter also gazed at her, noticing Stefan's & Vladimir's directive stares at her, exchanging shared looks with one another.
