HIS DAUGHTER, HIS CURSE

The choice

Rabun Hall had stood long before kingdoms rose and fell. Hidden deep within an ancient forest where sunlight struggled to reach the ground, the estate had watched centuries pass without changing. Generations had come and gone beyond its towering walls, yet the old mansion remained exactly as it had always been—silent, imposing, and untouched by time.

Its dark stone walls stretched proudly beneath the evening sky, weathered by countless storms but never weakened by them. Thick ivy climbed the outer walls, weaving through cracked stone as though nature itself had accepted that the mansion would never fall.

Massive black iron gates guarded the entrance to the estate. Beyond them, a long cobblestone driveway wound through towering pine trees before ending at the grand staircase leading to the mansion. This was no ordinary home. It was the birthplace of the Original family.

Every corridor carried memories older than most civilizations. Every portrait hanging on the walls belonged to ancestors whose names had long disappeared from human history. Even the chandeliers suspended from the high ceilings had burned through centuries, their warm light reflecting across polished marble floors that had welcomed kings, hunters, witches… and monsters alike. Rabun Hall had witnessed betrayals. It had witnessed wars.

It had witnessed blood. But perhaps its greatest secret was the family that still called it home. The heavy oak doors swung open.

Theron stepped inside, removing his black leather gloves one finger at a time before placing them neatly on the entrance table.

The familiar scent of aged wood and burning cedar filled the air. Home. His footsteps echoed softly through the enormous entrance hall as he walked past towering pillars and portraits that seemed to watch every movement. Unlike most visitors, he never glanced at them. He had lived among those faces for longer than he cared to remember. As he entered the main sitting room, the quiet atmosphere immediately gave way to tension.

Caius stood before the enormous fireplace, pacing from one end of the room to the other. His movements were measured, yet restless.

One hand rested behind his back while the other brushed thoughtfully against his jaw, his crimson eyes fixed on nothing in particular.

Across the room, Maelis sat comfortably beside the grand piano, lazily pressing a few keys with one hand. The soft notes drifted through the room before fading into silence, only for another random note to follow a few moments later. She wasn’t playing music. She was simply entertaining herself. Without acknowledging either of his siblings, Theron walked toward the towering bookshelf that occupied the far wall. His fingers skimmed across rows of worn leather-bound books before stopping on one. He pulled it free.

Crossed the room. And settled into his usual armchair.

Only then did Caius stop pacing. He turned to face his twin. “So…” His voice was low, carrying the impatience he had managed to suppress since leaving the hospital. “What is the next plan?”

Theron calmly opened the book in his hands, his eyes drifting to the first page before he answered. “The next plan…” He turned a page. “…depends entirely on you.”

Absolutely. This part should pick up naturally from Part One. The focus is on the conversation between the twins, while Maelis occasionally interrupts with her usual sarcasm. We also begin revealing Madonna’s situation.

Theron’s words lingered in the air. “The next plan… depends entirely on you.” Caius frowned, his patience wearing thinner by the second. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Theron calmly turned another page of the old leather-bound book before answering. “It means the prophecy hasn’t changed. The only thing that’s changed…” He finally looked up. “…is your reaction to it.” Caius scoffed. "My reaction?” “You expected one child.”

“There were two.” “And now you’re allowing uncertainty to cloud your judgment.”

Caius let out a slow breath and walked toward the tall windows overlooking the forest surrounding Rabun Hall. “I don’t deal in uncertainty.” “No?”

Theron closed the book and rested it on his lap. “Then tell me which of those children carries the prophecy.”

Caius didn’t answer. Maelis chuckled softly from the piano. “I thought so.” He shot her a warning glance.

She raised both hands innocently. “I’m only stating the obvious.”

Caius ignored her and turned back to his brother “What about Madonna?” Theron’s expression remained unreadable. “I told her you had already left the country.” Caius froze. “You told her… what?”

“I told her you had urgent matters overseas.” His crimson eyes narrowed. “You had no right.” “I had every reason.” “You should have waited.” “For what?”

Theron’s voice remained calm.n“So you could return and compel her?” Caius didn’t answer immediately.

“I intended to.” “You had the opportunity.” “The twins changed everything.” “They changed nothing.” Caius looked away. “They changed enough.”

Maelis leaned against the polished piano, watching the exchange with open amusement. “So…” she said lightly, “if Madonna believes you’ve left the country…”

She tilted her head thoughtfully. “…how long do you think it’ll take before she starts looking for you?” Neither brother answered. She smiled. “I give her three days.” Caius sighed. “You underestimate her.”

Maelis laughed. “So she’ll be on the first flight she can find?”

Theron nodded once. “Most likely.”A faint smirk crossed Maelis’s face. “I almost admire that level of determination.” “It isn’t determination,” Caius replied coldly. “It’s obsession.” Theron looked at him steadily.

“Perhaps.” “But you created it.”

The room fell quiet. The crackling fire was the only sound between them.

After several moments, Caius spoke again. “What did Maya say after I left?” Theron remembered the look in the old witch’s eyes. “Nothing.” “Nothing?” “She simply watched Madonna leave.” “And the children?” “They remained with her. Maybe you don't need them again.” Caius slowly clenched his fists. "I don't, maybe not now"

The taxi rolled to a gentle stop in front of a modest stone cottage nestled on the outskirts of Valleyhaven. Unlike the towering mansion that overlooked the village from the hilltop, this home was quiet and welcoming. Ivy climbed the weathered stone walls, while climbing roses framed the small wooden porch. A narrow path of uneven stones led through a garden filled with lavender, rosemary, and herbs that had been carefully tended for years. This was Maya’s home. The driver stepped out first and hurried to the back of the taxi. “I’ll get them for you, ma’am.”

“Thank you,” Maya replied softly. He carefully lifted the two woven bassinets from the back seat, taking great care not to wake the sleeping newborns. After setting them gently on the porch, he carried Maya’s small travel bag to the front door. “They’re beautiful girls,” he said with a warm smile. “Congratulations.”

Maya returned the smile, though it carried a sadness only she understood. “Thank you.”

The driver tipped his cap politely before climbing back into the taxi. “Have a pleasant evening.” “You too.” The engine started once more.

Within moments, the taxi disappeared down the narrow village road, leaving nothing behind but the distant chirping of birds and the whisper of the evening breeze through the trees. Maya stood alone on the porch.

For a long moment, she simply looked at the two tiny girls sleeping peacefully inside their bassinets. Neither of them stirred. Neither of them knew the burden they had been born carrying. With a quiet sigh, Maya picked up one bassinet in each hand and pushed open the front door.

The familiar scent of dried herbs and old parchment welcomed her home.

Everything inside remained exactly as she had left it days earlier. Shelves lined the walls from floor to ceiling, filled with weathered books, glass jars of herbs, and ancient scrolls tied with faded ribbons. Bundles of lavender and sage hung from the ceiling beams, their fragrance filling the room with warmth. She carried the babies into the sitting room and carefully placed their bassinets side by side on a thick woven rug before the fireplace. The crackling flames cast a soft golden glow across their tiny faces.

Maya slowly lowered herself into the wooden rocking chair opposite them.

For the first time since leaving the hospital… She allowed herself to breathe. Her tired eyes moved from one little girl to the other. “So small… So innocent…”

A faint smile touched her lips. “You’ve only just arrived in this world… and yet fate has already begun fighting over you.” She leaned forward and gently brushed a finger across the forehead of the first baby. A gentle warmth spread through her fingertips. The corners of Maya’s eyes softened. “My little Lyra… You carry the Starolite blood just as I feared…” She lingered there for another moment before turning to the second child.

Kaira slept peacefully, her tiny hand curled into a fist beneath the blanket. Maya hesitated. Then she gently touched the baby’s cheek.

A strange chill coursed through her hand. Not cold enough to harm. Just enough to remind her whose blood flowed through the little girl’s veins. A tear escaped down Maya’s cheek. “…Kaira. So it was you.” She closed her eyes briefly before looking back at both girls. “The witch… The vampire…” She shook her head slowly. “No… To me… You’re simply my granddaughters.” Another tear slipped down her face.

“I promised your mother I would protect her.” Her voice became barely above a whisper. “And now… I’ll make that same promise to both of you.”

Slowly, Maya rose from her chair. Her gaze drifted toward the old telephone resting on a small wooden table near the window.

After several moments of hesitation, she walked over and lifted the receiver. Her fingers carefully dialed a number she had hoped she would never need again.

The line rang. Once. Twice. Three times. No answer.

A soft click echoed through the receiver. A familiar voice spoke. “You’ve reached Theron. Please leave your message after the tone.”

A brief beep followed. Maya tightened her grip on the receiver. “Theron…” Her voice remained calm despite the weight pressing against her heart. “When you hear this message… come to my house before dawn.”

She paused. “Come alone. And don’t let your brother know.” Her eyes drifted back toward the two sleeping babies. “If you still remember the promise you once made to me… don’t be late.” She gently returned the receiver to its cradle. The cottage fell silent once more.

Outside, the wind rustled through the trees surrounding Rabun Village. Inside, two newborn girls slept peacefully…

Completely unaware that before the sun rose again…

One of them would be taken away.