Chapter 1
POV: Amara
The crowd thins out as evening approaches. The aromas of people starting to cook dinner waft through the air. The day has been busy and successful, and almost all the vegetables from our produce stand are sold out.
"Do you have any cabbage left for me, girl?" a crackly old voice asks, and I see the oldest woman in the village standing before me.
"No, I'm sorry about Mrs. Cox. I only have some apples and lettuce left," I say with a touch of guilt. The woman's gait is getting more stooped by the day, and she looks increasingly frail.
"What a shame, you sold out early yesterday too," she says with a sigh, and I shrug.
"I think you were with my twin sister yesterday, because she said you did come by. Maybe... Could you try to come a little earlier? It's already evening, and everything will be gone by then," I say as calmly and clearly as I can, and her bleary little eyes look around. It's as if she's only just realized for the first time that it's actually getting towards evening.
"Oh girl, the day goes by so fast," she says wistfully, ready to leave. I grab the last two apples and a small leftover lettuce and walk around our stall.
"Mrs. Cox, please take these, we don't want anything for them," I say, and a nearly toothless smile appears on her wrinkled face.
"Oh, how sweet, you're good people. Thank you, Eilana," she says in a trembling voice, and I shake my head, laughing.
"I'm Amara, but you're welcome, Mrs. Cox," I say, and she looks surprised.
"Oh, sorry, sweetheart, you look so much alike. Have a nice day," she says, before calmly turning around and finding her way home with the help of her cane. I shake my head, laughing, and continue setting up our stall.
It's not uncommon for Eilane and I to get confused, even though we can clearly see the differences. But to other people, we're two identical ladies with long blond hair and identical facial features. The biggest difference lies in our eyes and personalities. While I have dark brown eyes, Eilana has light blue ones, something neither of our parents understands. Both our parents have light blue eyes, so the origins of my dark brown eyes are still a mystery. My hair is also a bit straighter than Eilana's, who has wavier, frizzy hair.
But the real difference lies in our personalities, but you really have to know us personally to see for yourself. Eilana is incredibly outgoing and sociable; she loves interacting with people and can sometimes talk your ear off. In contrast, I'm incredibly introverted, and a day at the maternity ward is incredibly tiring for me. Talking and being friendly to people all day when I'd rather be lying in bed with my book is mind-numbing. I prefer to wait and see in a group of new people, while Eilana draws almost all the attention, albeit often unconsciously.
"How did it go, sweetheart?" the question comes from my father's familiar voice. I glance over to see him examining the empty stall and nodding approvingly.
"As you can see, it went well," I reply, and he hums approvingly.
"Well done, sweetheart," he says as he stands next to me and kisses my head.
"How was it in the fields today?" I ask, and his posture tenses, which tells me enough. Things haven't been going well in the fields lately; the harvest is poor due to all the rain.
"Not good, unfortunately, a lot of it is rotten," he grumbles, and I nod. It looks like we might not be able to open the stall tomorrow.
"Come on, let's go home," he says, and I follow him down the path to our house. The village we live in isn't large, and the population has stagnated recently. Our house is on the outskirts of the village, next to the fields where we grow our food. Everyone knows each other, and my father is greeted enthusiastically by everyone as he walks by.
The earth is muddy, and my feet are soaking wet in my shoes. My dress is dirty at the bottom, and I know it's going to take a serious scrubbing to get it clean. I can't wait for the days to get colder and the ground to freeze; autumn is definitely not my favorite season.
Smoke is billowing from our house's chimney, a sign that Mother is already cooking. My stomach is growling from the lack of food today, and I can't wait for a bowl of hot soup. Supplies have been low lately; food and grains from the mainland are being brought to us less and less frequently.
Thormere is the largest island of Vespera, accessible via a wooden bridge or by boat. It's the only habitable island, and it's where the Detested go. Vespera is a world full of shifters, vampires, and dragons. But those who don't develop a gift are cast out of society and almost always end up in Thornmere.
Here, everyone is normal... Human... A community has been built, and we've become largely self-sufficient over the years. We have no king, clan, or Alpha... We live in peace with each other, trying to survive together in a world where everyone thinks we're cursed.
Life here is not without turmoil, as attacks from the mainland become increasingly fierce and challenging. We have a small army of men and women who protect the community with their lives. But it's difficult to fight against bloodthirsty vampires who are after a quick snack or a new pet. The bridge of Thormere leads to Thalyra, the land of the vampires. Thalyra used to coexists peacefully with the other lands. But it's common knowledge that nowdays they like to seek unrest in their neighboring lands like Stormyre and Crysalden.
I walk into our house and see Eilana and her mother chopping and cooking vegetables together. My mother turns and gives my father and me a smile.
"Ah, darlings, so glad you're here. Dinner's almost ready. Would you mind putting the bowls on the table?" she asks, and I nod silently and get to work. On my way, I give Eilana a little nudge on the shoulder and raise my eyebrows. She turns and nods silently, then winks. Everything's going well... It's our silent communication when we're busy; our parents always call it our twin telepathy.
Dinner is relatively quiet, except for our parents' soft whispers about the harvest and what's next. I give Eilana a meaningful look; it's sad to see our parents so stressed about the harvest and the land. They work so hard, but the weather has been brutal lately. But income is important, and we've already had to give up a lot lately.
We're suddenly startled by the warning bells of the small church... Vampires! This is the umpteenth time this week we've been attacked. The bells keep ringing, and you can hear the panic in the voices of the neighbors outside.
"Finton, barricade the front door! Girls, close all the windows with the storm hooks in our bedrooms," our mother orders, and everyone springs into action. Mother closes the windows with the special hooks in the living room, and Eilana and I divide ourselves between our bedroom and our parents'. In no time, we're ready, and the four of us stand perfectly still in the living room. Mother blows out all the candles, and suddenly it's dark. We hold each other tight and listen to our surroundings.
Screams sound in the distance, and I hold Eilana tighter. It's not long before the bells stop and the chaos outside ends. It was short-lived, and as far as we know, they didn't come near us.
"I'm going to check," Father says, and I panic. Isn't this too soon? My father reassures us and quietly goes outside. When he comes home after ten long minutes, he gives an approving nod, a sign that it's safe. The candles are relit, and we open a few windows again.
"It was a small group... And according to Barrel, they were playing with them rather than actually do any harm, so it seemed okay," my father says when we sit down again later, and my mother sighs.
"It's not too much to ask that we want to live here in peace, is it?" she sounds helpless, and I can feel her frustration seeping out of her. Our village, Ancaris, has often been the victim of these attacks lately, and we've already lost several people to these predators.
"Barrel suggested we meet soon to come up with a plan, one that's better than just defending when necessary," my father says, and my mother nods in agreement. Barrel is one of the village's security guards and took charge when no one else could or would.
The rest of the evening passes quietly and calmly. When Eilana and I go to bed, I still feel tense.
"Are you okay?" she asks from her bed in the darkness, and I sigh; nothing escapes her notice.
"Yes, I am, but those attacks are stressing me out. I'm worried about the people who were kidnapped. Are they still alive? And if so, wouldn't it be better if they were dead... All the stories you hear sometimes, they're so intense," I whisper, and I hear her turn over in bed.
"I don't want to know what's going on, but I don't believe all the stories going around the village either. You're not going to tell me all vampires are bad," she says, and she has a point.
But it's hard to think positively about vampires when they're the reason Ancaris can't live in peace.
