This story is set after Leaving the Nest and before The Necromancer and the Nymph
Rating: Teen
All characters, except for Vivian, Igorth's mother and Count Lamian (c) Cosgrove Hall Vivian, Count Lamian, Igorth's mother, story (c) to me, Steffie
Enjoy ^_^
Igor's Daughter: The Offspring of my Dark Heart part 1
*800 years ago*
Austria, home of the ferocious vampire duck Count Lamian. As the fowl beast is in a restful slumber, his young servant decided to test his necromancy skills.
Igorth mumbled under his breath as he paged through the spell book as he sat on his bed. He grinned from ear to ear the moment he found what he had searched for. His grin widened as he read what he needed for ingredients. The young vulture darted out of his bedroom; and searched the dungeon for what he needed. After several minutes of searching through the bundle of clothes left on the floor, he had finally found an outfit that looked exactly like his, yet it would only be able to fit a small child. He had also found a cape that was a lighter brown than the outfit.
*Much later, the spell chamber*
Igorth chanted the spell as he took out the knife and made a huge gash on his palm. He then allowed the blood to drip onto the middle of the red circle he had made. The orange flames of the candles around the circle bursted into a shocking shade of pink; before they faded into a depressing shade of black. Igorth's chanting became louder as he sprinkled the rest of the ingredients onto the droplets of blood. The fresh dirt, herbs and spices became crust-like as they made contact with the red liquid. Moments later, the ingredients became a small lump of red clay as the blood absorbed the dry ingredients.
"Rise, Child of my Dark Heart." Igorth whispered as he finished the chant. He fell to his knees as he struggled to regain his breath. He couldn't believe how much energy this spell had drained from him. The poor vulture's heart sanked to his feet when he noticed nothing happened. He didn't become powerful enough, despite sharing a bond with a powerful vampire?
To Igorth's happiness, the red clay started to wiggle and squirm. As it wiggled and squirmed, it slowly grew as tall as an eight-year old child. The clay slowly moulded into the shape it's supposed to have. Igorth smiled joyously as he watched this little miracle. He quickly grabbed hold of the clothes; and cradled them in his arms as he eagerly waited for his spell to finally transform into the form it meant to have. He then laid the clothes next to the clay; which then absorbed the clothes.
After three hours of craftmanship, the clay had finally taken the shape it had chosen. It then glowed black as it became a flesh and blood being. The young vulture's heart thumped loudly in his chest as the glowing finally stopped. Igorth's pleased expression was replaced with one of shock and bit of disappointment.
Standing in the middle of the circle was an eight-year old White-Headed Vulture that was clad in the outfit its Master had given to it as a gift. The child's waist-length hair was ebony in colour; as it symbolized the magic that was used for its creation. But, the hair wasn't completely black. Oh no, it also had red streaks in it; to symbolize the redness of the blood used for its creation. The child had a creepy and dark aura around it; and the sweet smile on its beak, which would make anyone else feel quite uneasy. But, that wasn't what upsetted Igorth at all.
Igorth's creation was supposed to be almost the split image of himself; yet the child wasn't. The child was a little girl that looked like she could've been his daughter. The other problem would had to be the eyes. Although they were as big as any child her age; they were terrifying to stare at. Those eyes were cold, dull...soulless. Igorth had created life without the most important ingredient: a soul!
"Thank you, Master Igorth for the outfit." the girl spoke in her little girl's voice. But, the voice didn't sound like any normal child's voice. Although it was cute and innocent, the tone was hollow and had a tiny hint of darkness in it. Igorth couldn't be happier. So, the experiment wasn't a total failure after all?
"Now then, what to call you?" Igorth pondered out loud as he stroked his lower beak. He snapped his fingers as his eyes lit up.
"How does Vivian the Soulless sound to you?"
"Any name Master Igorth likes is what I would like." the little girl shrugged.
"Then Vivian it is, then."
As Igorth sniggered in glee about the success of his creation, I fear I must bid ye farewell for now...
Until we see each other again.
To be continued...