Hey everyone, Jarjarblinx1 here! Sorry for all the story confusion, but here it is, A Love to Transcend Time, written by yours truly and RandomTendencies13 (Make sure to check out her profile and read some of her stories too!) No more disappearing acts (let's hope!) Much thanks to Yami Kyo for letting us borrow his lovely image for our cover. Ain't it sexy? Well, enough with my rambling, on to the story!

The truce had stood for generations. No one could remember when it was created; it always just was. There was a forest between the two lands, a boundary that was unquestioned. Despite the truce, there were some that ignored their king and crossed the boundary. To deal with these rogues, the other land created a plan: vampire hunters. With a few rogue attacks, hunters became as much a way of life as the truce.

The Frost family was the most famous of the vampire hunters. It was rumored that the Frosts were hunters for as long as the vampires had existed. One of the family was out tonight, hunting yet another band of rogues. They never frightened him, even when they snapped and snarled. He laughed when they cursed in their own tongue. He didn't even flinch when his spear pierced through them. No. Manfred Frost did not fear these creatures. What he feared most was birth.

He waited outside of his small hut, blood washed off from his skin, as the screams and cries of his wife filled the air. This was his greatest fear. Once the cries of a child filled the air, he threw his large body into the hut. His wife lived, a small bundle in her arms. She gave him a weak smile as she handed the baby to the proud father. The bright blue eyes pierced his soul. He swore that he would devote his life to his wife and this child.

He had never wanted to be king. He wanted to live as the other nobles did. He wanted to feed and fuck and live as they did, but he could not. He was king, and thus he was not allowed to live.

He listened to his advisor with a bored expression. Rogues were not his problem. They were few in number when compared to his kingdom, so he left them to the hunters. Any rogues that did manage to survive were properly executed on the spot. He knew that the hunters were as much a part of life as the truce.

The man licked his lips, accepting the goblet of blood from a servant. The truce was definite and unbreakable. He had been taught that this unwritten agreement was all that kept them safe from a hunter's spear. The king was arrogant, but not stupid. He was bored with life and tired of it, but he did nothing. The truce was definite and eternally unbreakable.

"You know you cannot come with me this time, my son." Manfred knelt by his wife and son, his large hand cupping the boy's cheek. "Perhaps when you are older, Jack."

"But Daaaaad..." The little boy whined. "I've gotten a lot better. Uncle North has been helping me, and I can almost hit the apple on the fence with a crossbow."

"And I am proud of you, but I need men that can hit that apple. I don't need to worry that a rogue might take you from me."

"But I can hold my own out there. I promise."

"When you're older, my son. I promise, when you are older."

"You promise, Dad?"

"I promise. Now, I must go." Manfred kissed his son's cheek before standing and kissing his wife. "I'll be back soon." He took up his spear and mounted his horse, waving goodbye once more before he rode off to join the other hunters.

The little boy waved until his father was out of sight. "I'm gonna practice so I can be as good as Dad and Uncle North!"

His mother chuckled, ruffling his white hair before he ran off to the barn to practice shooting at the straw dummies he'd made. "Just be sure to be back in the house by sunset!"

"Yes, mum!"

The screams of the villagers filled the air as the rogues tore through. They found the hunter's house, tearing the door from its frame. The screams and struggles of the woman delighted them. As a sign of cruel humor, they threw the body of the hunter down next to his wife. His white hair shone in the moonlight, covered in blood. The rogues knew what would come when they returned back to their side of the boundary, but it didn't matter. The famed Frost hunter was dead.

"Today's the day, Dad." He knelt in front of the grave, bowing his head in respect. "Ten long years of training, and I'm finally ready. I'm finally allowed to go on the hunts. I'll avenge your death, Dad. All of them are monsters, and I won't let a single one live. Every vampire I meet will die, rogue or not." The man stood up, sheathing his silver sword and giving one last bow of his head to the grave before turning away, heading off to meet the other hunters.