The Beggining of Pheon
In the beggining, there was the Volturri. And Pheon. A background not to be trifled with. She was wanted, chased for her power. This is her story, from beggining to end.
New story. Time will explain it.
1. Chapter 1
Rating 5/5 Word Count 721 Review this Chapter
It was beginning.
The life and times of Pheon.
It wasn’t a pleasant beginning, that’s for sure.
But it was me, and it made me who I am today.
I’m sure you’ve all heard of them, almighty, all ruling, cynical vampires.
Ever wonder who they are, their background?
Well you’re going to find out right now.
It all started out with evolution and magic, a careful and awful magic.
A wizard way back when had been ridiculed time after time for his profession.
He was a wizard, come on.
So he set out to make his life’s work, a stone with magical properties of immortality, infinite strength, and senses empowered three-hundred fold.
But for every win there is a loss, in this case a terrible one.
The creator and bearer of the stone would thirst for blood until fully satisfied.
The stone was lost over time, but the legends lived. A name grew for this stone, the Pietra Di Anima, the stone of blood.
A fitting name, I think.
And so the legends started. A person would find the stone and become ruler of all.
Many tried to control this power, but all failed. They were destroyed by the Children of the Moon, those sent to wipe out the stone.
All but one failed.
I was the first to control the Pietra Di Anima. My grandfather had passed it down, careful never to touch it with his bare hands, for that would cause the dreaded, painful transformation.
One day he called to me from his sick bed, “My dear nipote. I need you.”He was dying, that we were sure of. What we didn’t know was why. He had seen countless doctors and apothecaries, but he was healed to no avail.
“Yes, Nonno?” I asked.
“Take this. Be warned, it is dangerous. Don’t touch it bare until the time is right. I know you are the one.” He took his last painful breath, coughed up the remaining blood in his lungs and cried out.
“Nonna, I will see you soon.” And he died, leaving me to figure what had happened.
I had it now, a beautiful ruby the size of a silver dollar, in my possession.
I kept it a secret for years. I never forgot that day, even now after everything.
Even through the blood and drunken abuse of my father, I kept it a secret. He began drinking when Nonno died, never being able to let his father pass.
There were times I would take it out from the loose floor board under my bed and stare at it, the swirling reds captivating me.
I could never touch it bare, Nonno’s warning echoing in my brain.
Until one night, a night of danger and pain for me. I was nineteen years old.
“Pheon!” My father roared.
I ran quickly, my sprained ankle preventing me.
There was a bottle of absinthe lying empty on the floor, a whole bottle this time.
I gritted my teeth for what was coming.
“Where is the rest of my absinthe? Did you take it?!” He stumbled walking to the cucina, throwing open all our cabinets and removing their contents.
“It’s not here!”
I stood silent.
“Then leave, and stop glowing.” He growled as he shoved me to the wood, scraping my cheek.
Tears were streaming down my face as I ran.
It was upstairs I knew was safe. I ripped off the floor board completely, grabbing the stone with my bare hands, ignoring the fire ripping through my veins, as if the beautiful swirling reds were entering me.
It ended quickly, but I felt new…hungry.
I could hear my father in the cucina throwing my mother’s dishes onto the floor, the crashing practically piercing my ears.
His heavy breathing hit my nose, an unfamiliar scent filling my nose.
I threw myself down the banister and crushed my father’s absinthe bottle in one slight squeeze.
The broken glass didn’t even scratch.
I approached my father, his smell drafting up my nose. The best and worst smell of my life, a lovely nectar mixed with poison.
I snarled from deep in my throat in his direction, he turned on a heel faster than I would have thought possible and stared at me, eyes wide.
“Ph-Ph-Pheon?” He gasped.
I couldn’t speak, I only acted.
His bones were easily broken, like twigs snapping.
He was dead soon, and I was finally free.
As I stared down at his horrified expression, frozen onto his face I realized something.
I had touched the stone with my bare hands.