Hope

Intermission I: Romania

The Strider manor was one of the most beautiful buildings in Romania, that stimulated thick clouds of awe and envy in the chests of anyone that came close to its majesty. The walls were white, along with the arches scattered all over the building, it was, too, delicately decorated with floral reliefs, involving small cupids delivering even more flowers, or playing harps. Large, rounded windows - that were sadly closed off with curtains from inside - were stained in reds and blues. It was near the coast, in fact, right on the edge of the land. Still water would flow there, reflecting the moon, that little Dirk would stare up at. He enjoyed sitting on the railing of his parents' balcony, watching the world around him. His small yet strong legs swung back and forth, his formal shoes often getting kicked off onto the below lawn. Sometimes, from there, he would see his sisters playing together, with his dearest mother watching them.
His mother was a beautiful French woman, platinum blonde hair tied up tightly almost always, with wide eyes and an equally wide smile blessing her face. She was a goddess in her children's eyes. She often sat under the tree, the family's cat resting on her lap. She would always sit in silence, enjoying the laughter and joy of her two daughters. She was ever so elegant. Her skin was like silk, too soft to touch, too easy to break. Her eyes were of a magenta colour, but not always. Sometimes - depending on the time of day, or how she felt - her eyes would be lavender, or blue, or maybe even grey. Her daughters were a perfect descendant of hers; one adopting her playfulness and love, and the other, possessing her wisdom and power. Both of them though, as like her, were reckless from time to time. Often the woman was self-destructive, drinking her soul away with lavish wines, and rich whiskeys. She only did this when she, and her husband, would quarrel, as the aftermath.
Dirk's father was a lot more of a threatening man, and the first born son was the spitting image of him. Yet, his children adored him just as much as their mother. He was a brave man, who constantly wore a face of disconnection, or apathy. It was not often that his children caught him smiling, but when he did, a strange sort of energy filled the property on which the family lived. While he cared for his family, with all of his being, never once had he shown it fully. He, like the older Dirk, was tall - but not too tall - and broad. His hair, as his wife's, was of a blonde tone, albeit slightly darker. He was the one who would pay attention mainly to his two sons, teaching them skills in battle. When he did cater to his daughters, he would simply watch them perform on the violin, or teach them a few fighting techniques.
From the outside, the family was a beautiful one. The household everyone dreamed of; a handsome husband, a beautiful wife, and many good looking children.

Many a evening, such as this one, was where Dirk would sit on his parent's balcony, watching the moon. He heard the clanking of his father's sword, and David's slam together, followed by the laughter of his two sisters. He watched the moon and wondered of what his future as a prince might bring him. It was soon to be him and his sister's initiation; they would officially claim their titles as Prince of Heart, and Rogue of Void. It was a great celebration for all, where clan, and family members would gather to congratulate the youth on being blessed by Nyx. It was something Dirk could not wait for. He had his suit ready, as well as the way he would walk up to the alter, and how he would cut his hand for a sacrifice. He had everything planned. From the initiation, to when and how he would fulfill his role.
"Can I not just become Prince now, father?" he asked his father while they trained. His father shook his head, but said nothing.
As he watched the moon, a cry from downstairs indicated dinner was ready. Excitedly, he leaped off the balcony and onto the patio of the manor. His mother scolded him for leaping so far down, but he ignored it. The family soon gathered at the dinner table, where they all sat in their allocated seats. Dirk's mother and father sat at the ends of the table, looking across it. On the left sat Roxy and Dirk, and on the right, Rose and David. Dinner was full of chatter, normally between the mother and the children, save for Dirk. He stayed still, munching on his food, his eyes off in the distance. His mother noted so, and smiled as she spoke to him,
"What is the matter, my child? What are you pondering about?"
"I am thinking about tomorrow. I do not want to make a fool of myself when we go to the ceremony," he answered, mouth stuffed with food.
"You will do a great performance," she bowed her head a little,
"If you do manage to make a fool of yourself, though, it will become a joke within the whole clan," the father piped up, taking a large sip of blood, "I still do not agree to him attending the ceremony. This is all a waste of time."
Dirk looked at his father confused. The mother replied with a sigh, "this is important to your son and daughter, and to me. They want to serve their purpose,"
"They will not live their life serving their purpose, R-"
"You will not bring your insecurities to the table," the mother huffed. The children all looked at each other, frowning. Roxy sunk in her seat, and pressed her lips together.
"We will talk of this after dinner, privately. For now, keep quiet and finish your drink. Children, finish your food and blood and then go to your rooms," she instructed.