The Originals

What was at the start

CHAPTER 1

Snow was falling lightly on the already white pavements of the streets of Dublin and the sky was lightless, the stars were masked by a thin layer of cloud and only the moon shone, hanging alone in the vast, ever-changing expanse of indigo, like a pearl on a velvet dress. 

Two sets of footprints were printed on the undisturbed snow like writing on a blank page, a lamp flickered on the street and finally guttered and a skinny street cat scaled a fence and disappeared over the other side, there was a scream from a fox nearby but then silence descended, quickly and completely, as if daring anyone to question it. 

The curtains of a the second house on Oaxley road twitched slightly but fell back in to place quickly, the flickering light in the window went out suddenly as if blown out like a candle, a figure appeared at the door looking around furtively, it stepped out into the front garden wrapping a cloak around itself, and closing the door, it poked its cane at the window of the house , the surface rippled silver like mercury and the figure stepped into it and melted away.

 Two people were standing alone in the dark alley next to Oaxley Road, their faces were illuminated by the moonlight and they looked tired and restless. The woman’s face, though she looked fairly young was pale and drawn, her eyes wide and sad. The man’s face was also pale, he looked more fearful than worried. The woman was beautiful, she had high cheek bones and dark red hair that fell below her waist,a few strands were plaited,delicately.Her eyes were clear blue like the brightest sapphire, but they were wide and bright with worry. 

The man was tall and had dark mahogany coloured hair, he wore a silver ring on his little finger that shone in the moonlight, carved into it was and intricate image of a bird in flight. He had swift green eyes and a defined nose. They both carried staffs, the mans was dark mahogany like his hair and the top was carved into a fox, the woman’s was made of a white wood maybe birch and the top was carved to look like an owl. They looked like they were on a stage with the spotlight on them, so dark were their surroundings. 

The man spoke “he said he would be here” his voice cut thought the silence, each were dressed in floor length capes that fluttered in the wind, the woman drew hers around her as she replied “Griffin you shouldn’t of trusted him” “what choice did I have” he said bitterly “he didn’t take no for an answer, and you know what he would have done if we didn’t turn up he would have killed us all and not spilt tear nor blood, he’s a professional, it’s his job, he hasn’t got a conscience. ” “I know what your thinking…” the woman started but the man, Griffin interrupted “of course you do” “ but this is our son, this is not the greater good Griffin this isn’t a game anymore, he’s not Wesley however he might look like him, Zeric will stop at nothing to get what he wants he is nothing like Wesley, they maybe brothers but they are definitely not related.” But before Griffin could reply a man appeared silently at the end of the alley.

This man was nothing like any one in Dublin, he didn’t look like the tramps that belonged to the backstreets of Dublin that stank of ale and smoke and that strong pungent, the sour odour of pollution and rubbish and other indescribable things, he didn’t look like the commuters that trailed the streets of the city, who belonged to the banks and the hospitals and the offices that so often you could find on the pavements of Dublin, he didn’t even look like the millionaires, who belonged to the expensive bars. 

In fact this man didn’t look like he belonged anywhere. This man was dangerous, he radiated power and control, from his ebony black eyes, to the floor length coat hanging from broad shoulders. He had dirty blond hair, an earring shaped like a small, sharp dagger. He had sharp features, like a fox and a faint scar ran from the bottom of his jaw to his cheekbones, with a small self-satisfied smirk playing on his lips, he spoke.

“Griffin, Rosmari, so glad you could make it” his smooth, dangerous voice exuded confidence and dripped with sarcasm “ did you bring what I asked for?” “ Why do you have to do this Zeric?” Rosmari’s face shone with tears her voice shook “ That doesn’t matter to you anymore. Just give me what I asked for or I will have to use, force and you know what I mean by force… don’t you?”  he was a classic villain, all cheesy lines and predictable moves, even so, he was still very, very dangerous.

A tear traced its way down Rosmari’s face and her husband put his arm protectively around her while Zeric chuckled “you could walk away you know, but you would be walking away from your whole race, your family, you wouldn’t want to do that now would you? Wouldn’t want to disappoint everyone?” a small sly smile crept across Zeric’s face, he had won, he knew he had won. 

Wordlessly Griffin bent down and placed his hands on the floor, he breathed deeply and slowly, closing his eyes a slight wind blew in his hair, the wind picked up and his eyes snapped open, they glowed bright white, the wind was blowing harder and harder it swirled and turned and a funnel was made, and as the wind dispersed a small baby swathed in blankets appeared it slept peacefully, blissfully unaware of his surroundings. “ Griffin you always were one for drama, but this truly is the pinnacle of your corniness, where did you get the idea? X-men? I thought you were better, more refined, but being the best friend of my brother, of course, he has rubbed off on you…” Zeric scorned, though the delight was plain in his eyes, they were shining like black treacle. He reached out to take the baby, it moaned in its sleep and Zeric picked it up “ Go before I change my mind” snarled Griffin, the wind stopped and Zeric was gone, jumping over buildings, clutching the baby with his feet barely touching the ground, he melted into the darkness…

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