Serena

Chapter 7 Serena

December 31st 1757

Serena

"And all the men and women merely players;

They have their exits and their entrances,

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,

Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."-As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII

"Good morning." Xavier cracked an eye open from his side of the bed.

"Morning." I rubbed a finger over the pages of Xavier's book.

"Today's a big day." He stretched.

I looked to Xavier's collection of swords hanging on the wall. "For in what sleep of death what dreams may come, when we have suffered of his mortal coil, must give us pause." I breathed.

"What?" He yawned.

"Nothing." I crawled out of bed. Xavier pulled the covers back over himself and I changed into the clothes that had been specially made for the tournament. I pulled on the long sleeve skintight black top and tight black trousers with special padding. I pulled at the material. It was so ahead of its time.

I pulled my hair back into a ponytail before plaiting it behind my back. I glanced at Xavier, who had promptly fallen back asleep. It was three in the morning.

I silently cracked open the door and padded down the hallway. I passed paintings of all the women who had come before me, the women that had won the tournament that is. All of them had been taken from where they had grown up; all had been innocent little girls who had never spilt blood. This place had helped them transform into something better, into Vampire women worthy of empowering the nest generation.