"A thousand years ago, a group of less than twenty human settlers walked the barren wastelands of East Blymouth. The air was blistering as the sun was almost always at its highest peak. They happened to stumble upon a vast grassland, with a nearby wooded area, where they scavenged for wild game to hunt for food, wood to build shelter from the harsh conditions, and seeds for a garden to grow fruit and vegetables. Within weeks of sleepless nights and countless hours coming and going from the woods, they finally set up a small village, littered with straw and mud huts, bonfire spits and a moderate sized garden. In all, with their group number now less than fifteen, they began to do well for themselves.
But all good things come to a bitter end. As they were about to find out, not everything was as it seemed.
Their water supply began to dry up, as the rain seemed to become non-existent, the woods once full of fine game, now empty as if it never was home to anything but trees. With the complete lack of the two valuable things for their survival gone, the oldest settlers began falling ill and dying from starvation and dehydration.
One man refused to give up and ventured into the forest, for two days and two nights he walked, getting ever weaker as the long hours went on. Suffering the all the brutal torment, the weather and nature cared to throw at him. But on a stroke of luck, he happened upon a cave. Inside it was like staring into complete nothingness, like the voided heart of a once brave warrior. Against his guy instinct, he traveled inside. For what seemed like a mile of various twists and turns, he finally stopped at a very well made podium, built from the surrounding stone. How did it get there, he thought to himself. As he examined it, a light as blinding as the midday sun appeared in front of him, almost making him lose his footing on the array of various sharp stones and boulders around him. As the surrounding light dimmed, it took the form of a very beautiful woman, still illuminating a good radius within the cave walls. When she spoke, her voice was soft and godly.
"Hello, Kiran Nevara. My child. What is it you seek within my cave?"
"Who are you? Am I dead?"
"No, far from it, to answer your question. I am Theia, Goddess of Light."
"Goddess of Light? I've never heard of you, why is that?"
"You ask the wrong questions, Kiran. What is it you truly want to ask? Is it about your people, the ones who have hunted in these lands without permission?"
"We did not know, ever since our home was destroyed by raiders, we have been searching endlessly for a new beginning, and now our numbers are less and less every day."
The expression of her face gave into what seemed to be great thought, then she spoke again.
"Grab that jagged stone, rip your hand and place it on the podium."
"What? Why? How will this save my people if that's what you plan to do?"
"You need not worry why, child. The stone."
Kiran thought for a moment, mapping out every single possible thing that could go wrong by doing this. But he always came to the same conclusion, he had no other choice. He picked up the stone, took the deepest breath he could, then pressed the stone to his palm. In the moment of no return he yanked his arm back, slicing his hand wide open, then quickly placing in on the podium.
"What will this do?"
"By the blood-rite, you have signed a deal that all that come of your kin after you must continue to follow. I grant you and your people an immortality, of sorts, you will be able to walk in sunlight under my protection, but a thirst for blood will only be quenched by the blood of the guilty and those of monsters, in order to stay alive you much feed on them, but to keep these gifts you must always pray and praise to me, for I have just saved you all."
Without another moment passing, he felt an unbearable pain. What was happening to him? He felt his blood turn ice cold, his skin turned a place white and with every passing second he began to thirst for blood."
Or at least that's how the legend says it happened.
Legends aside, Brookhaven is home to Ixalan Vampires that worship Theia. Whether she is the reason for Kiran Nevara becoming a vampire or not, She's a big part of their everyday life.
Brookhaven is fortified with Fifteen foot high stone walls. Archers posted on the wall on each side, two guards stand tall by the front gate, branded on their armor, the Nevara sigil, showing their loyalty to the highest nobility within East Blymouth. Their numbers have grown from the fifteen to over five hundred, all vampires.
The Lord of House Nevara, Sylis Nevara, son of Kiran, He is the Monarch of Brookhaven after his Father met an untimely end. His wife, The Lady of the house, Marion Nevara, loving and sweet, yet highly respected, She cared and tended for everyone and everything, like a mother to all. Their son, the Marquess, Jacques Sylian Nevara, He is as rambunctious as a grung, but as smart as Artificer.—
God's I hate that name. I recently discovered this journal in the sewers below Brookhaven, I say recently when I mean a long time ago, but I'll get to that. For now, I'll fill in a few entries of my own.
My name is Jax Sylian. I am the last of the Bridgewood Vampire Hunters. Which is a strange thing to say...even now since I am and have always been since the day of my birth, a Vampire. Why they trusted me, I may never know.
House Nevara has fallen upon a great darkness, a darkness I want no part of yet I must stop them before they hurt innocent people.
I'm leaving this journal here, so that anyone who finds it, will read it. Word for word, this is the true story of the good in vampires. I know most will not trust the word of a bloodsucking "demon". Nor would I, if I weren't one. But here I am.
I will die as once I lived, by the truth. Just know, I'm always watching and listening, after all to those who don't know my true nature, I'm a vigilante.
Thank you for reading!
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