The Wintersinger Chronicles: Royal Vampires

Prologue

Prologue

The two figures fought ferociously on the quartz floor, surrounded by realistic marble statues of gods and folklore beasts. The male was a heartthrob, with tanned skin, chiseled cheek, sharp jawline, perfect features and dirty blond hair, the scar from his right ear to his cheek only enhancing his charisma. The only flaw is the crimson eyes, which made him seem like a bane.

The female was part albino, having before blonde hair, baby smooth skin, with, also, perfect features. She also had blood red eyes, only hers was darker than her twin's, like intensified blood.

The pair fought, graciously, making it seem like a deadly dance. The masculine held a white sword in his dominant left hand, with the shield on his right wrist, dodging the bullets from his sibling's pistol in her left hand. Swiftly, the male slashed with the blade, only to be met by a dagger. The female flicked her pistol to the air with an expert's skill. From her expandable pouch, she took a throwing knife. She threw the knife at her brother, catching the pistol almost simultaneously with her palm, face up. All of that happened so fast, it seemed like she turned the pistol into a throwing knife and back again.

However fast, the male's sword swept upwards, knocking the blade, still spiraling, backwards. Spinning, his cloak sent the bullets sideways. As he spun, he raised his shield, just in time for the dagger. With professionalism, he flicked the switch on the handle of the shield, loosening the strap from his wrist to the forearm. From his waist, he pulled a black sword as dark as night. With the shorter white blade, he sliced, knocking the dagger down to the floor. Then he raised the black sword, laying the tip at his sister's throat.

"It seems like I've won again, Phoenix," said the man.

"You've only won four more times than me," Phoenix Wintersinger sighed, "Knight."

"But still," Knight Wintersinger said smugly, "I won."

The Wintersinger twins picked up their weapons respectively. "Mister, Madame," said the ghost, which was standing by the wall for the whole fight.

"What is it, Webster?" Asked Phoenix.

"There's a suspected being of a vampire in London, again, mistress," answered the ghost named Webster.

"What is it with vampires and London these days?" muttered Knight.