Emilya

Discussion in 'THREAD ARCHIVES' started by Violet Rivers, Nov 10, 2014.

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  1. "Emilya sweetheart, come here.”
    The little girl sitting on the soft, thick red rug looked up from her doll, stood up and toddled over on short legs. She was maybe three or four years old, with big brown eyes and her dark brown hair framed her chubby face. A smile formed on her face as the man, whom she knew as Papa, held out his hand. Her little fingers slid into his cold ones and gripped them tight as he pulled her close. Her father muttered sweet words in her ear, causing her to cuddle closer with a giggle.
    “Papa!” she wrapped her arms around his neck, urging him to pick her up. He complied and picked her up, causing her to giggle as her grip on his arms tightened. The flash of red in his eyes went unnoticed to her for she had seen it many times so she was used to unusual changes. Emilya knew what her father was and what her mother had been; she was not afraid.
    “Papa is going to take you away my pet.” He said walking from the bed she had been sitting against, to the door that led into the hall.
    The bed, like the room, was made up of reds and gold. Red silk covers, red pillowcases with gold trimmings, and a gold laced comforter covered the oversized bed. The bed was large enough that four people could comfortably sleep in it with enough room to accommodate a fifth. To complete the grand bed, the head and foot boards were of gold and steel. The walls in the oversized room were a deep red color-almost blood red- with gold trimmings and moldings. The bedroom smelled of money and time; it smelled of riches unknown to the men whom called themselves civil. Everything, from the dark mahogany wardrobe, the desk under the bay window and heavy red curtains, the large sofa made of black leather that sat in front of the dark mantled fireplace, smelled of wealth; it smelled like home to this child whom was the result of a marriage of a vampire and a blood mage.
    “Where Daddy?” Emilya asked as her father carried her out the thick oak door and into a dark hallway. His eyes glowed red in the shadows as he came into the large living room. This room was also a place she knew.
    There was a black leather couch that sat in center and surrounded by several matching chairs. The room was themed with dark, rich purples, and like the rest of the house, it smelled of wealth and a great power no man would have in his short lifespan. The antique chandelier that hung above the living room could be placed centuries before now. All the heavy purple curtains were closed tight against the late afternoon sun.
    “It is called America.” Through his Russian-Siberian accent, and his strong, respected voice, the word ‘America’ sounded like a magical place.
    Her eyes widened, “America?”
    Emilya couldn’t imagine anywhere but her home here in Russia. She had never known anywhere else but here. Her papa never let her out of the house because he said he didn’t want people to take his sweet child from him. He told her they would want to take her from him because she was special.
    “Yes my sweet. Are you hungry?” He set her down on the couch and smoothed out her hair, his pale, thin fingers fixing the deep blue bow.
    “Yes Papa. I am hungry.” She beamed up at him. He smiled back, nodded then turned and walked to the kitchen. His dark hair showed brown in the chandeliers light. “Papa, where is Vera?”
    It had taken a moment to realize she hadn’t seen her nursemaid all day, not since she had dressed her in the blue dress and white pinafore. Her fingers moved to the laces of her black boots.
    “Vera has… retired. She knows we will be leaving and informed me she would not be able to make the trip with us.” He turned to look at her, his eyes flashing slightly.
    She swallowed and nodded, “Oh. What about-” She was interrupted by a loud knock on the front door. A slight growl came from her father as he turned to go to the door. Emilya got up and followed him after a moment.
    The front door creaked as it opened.
    “Come in, quickly.” There was a boot scuffing on the marble and another round of creaking as the door was shut.
    “Andreav, is it true?”
    “Hush.” Papa said sharply.
    There was the sound of rubber on marble as she peeked around the corner. Papa was in front of the door; standing next to him was a man she didn’t know. The stranger was tall, maybe 6 foot, with a head of dark curly hair, his skin was tan like he worked around outside. His eyes though, were like her father’s. Red and green like his red and brown. His clothing spoke of his class; thick brown trousers, black, steel toed boots and a dark blue shirt covered by a fur lined jacket with a few metals hanging from the breast pocket.
    Her father turned to the man, “Alexander, you are a fool to come here.”
    “I have to know Andreav.” Alexander said. His eyes bright with nerves and his body tense with anticipation. Her Papa sighed and turned to head back to the kitchen but then frowned as he notice Emilya standing halfway out from behind the corner. “Go in the living room Emilya.”
    “But Papa. . . Who. . .” She stopped at the look he gave her. When she began to turn to leave, the man, Alexander spoke up. “The child. She is your child?” He sounded surprised.
    Andreav let out a slight growl, “Yes, she is mine. But no one must know about her. I should kill you for knowing.”
    “Andreav, I am not your enemy. You know this. I would never betray you.”
    Emilya stood where she was, unsure of what to do. She wanted to know why Papa was threatening to kill this man, but her father had told her to leave. Her eyes flicked from Andreav to Alexander.
    Alexander turned to Emilya, “Come here child.”
    Andreav said nothing as Emilya came over slowly, but he gave her a small smile to let her know it was okay. Alexander gently took her chin between his forefinger and thumb and tilted her head up. His red-green eyes studying hers.
    “I can see her mother in her eyes. She is a beautiful child, and the only-”
    “Do not.” Her father interrupted, “This is not a conversation for her to hear, not at her age.”
    “But how have you hidden her?” Alexander patted her head as he sat up and looked back to Andreav.
    Andreav gave a half smirk, “I am an intelligent man, Alec.”
    “But if the coven-”
    “The Coven will not learn of her. Unless,” Andreav’s eyes darkened in warning, “you plan to tell of my crimes.”
    “Is she a crime? I thought she was a miracle. A child, one of a vampire and a blood mage. Jesus Christ Andreav, there is none of her kind, especially not in Russia! She is a wonder!”
    Andreav turned and picked Emilya up. She held onto him and giggled a little.
    “This child, Alexander, will be used for study. They will want to use her to figure out how she is able to be alive and be almost five years old. No, I will be leaving, with my daughter and we will be safe.”
    Alexander’s eyes widened, “Where would you go? Europe? China? Or perhaps the lands of Siberia, where only the vampires dare to live. She will not live long in such climate. Ah,” He caught Andreav’s look, “The land of the Free. America.”
    Emilya brightened, “What is America?”
    Alexander looked at her and smiled, his fangs flashing, “America, my sweet little one, is a land of opportunity, a land where vampires can hide.”
    “No, where vampires cannot hide, it is where vampires can be found out.”
    “You would frighten your daughter?”
    “No, not frighten her, only make her aware. Nowhere is safe for our kind. We must become either the leaders; the hand that controls the uncivil animals we call humans. Or we must blend in. Hiding only gets you killed.” Andreav sighed, “It will be much easier for her, and she is more human than I.”
    “How do you plan to blend in Andreav? You are a full vampire while I am only half. I can go out in the daytime; you had to hide behind the door when I entered.”
    “I will run a night club. Also, I will conduct business through a computer and such. I have it all set up and planned out Alexander. My way of living is of no concern of you.” Andreav ran his fingers through his Emilya’s hair as he spoke.
    “So be it Andreav, but you will welcome me in as a friend when the time comes for me to visit you, yes?” Alexander’s eyes were serious.
    Andreav sighed, “Yes. I will welcome you in, but only because you are one of the only friends I have. One of my most trusted friends.”
    Alexander grabbed a hold of his friend’s hand and held it tight, “My friend, I will not betray your secret. The Coven will know nothing of her. My word on it all.”
    Andreav smiled, and Emilya was enchanted by the feeling she saw in it. Ignoring the men as they released hands, she touched his cheek and laughed, “Papa, you love Alexander!”
    “As my own brother my sweet.” Andreav kissed her head.
    “Does that make me her uncle then?” Alexander’s eyes twinkled in humor.
    “If she wishes to make you as such, I have no care in the matter.”
    “Even if it bit you in the behind you wouldn’t care.” Alexander teased lightly then turned to Emilya, “Well beautiful girl, do you take me as your uncle?”
    Emilya laughed and held her hands out to him, “Yes! Oh yes!”
    Her newly found uncle laughed and took her into his arms, “Then I am your uncle.” She smiled and put her head on his shoulder. She was thrilled. She had her Papa, they were leaving to go to a new place and now, she had an uncle. For the moment, her life was complete, but, as good things come, they always bring the bad, whether it be big or small, little Emilya didn’t know this; soon she would be the wiser.

    (The names are Russian, I did a little research and saw that Emilya is the Russian version of Emily. I wanted to hopefully get the names right)
     
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