Oh... It was so cold up here in Canada... It had been cold in New York sure... But this was so much colder! Lana pulled her wool coat around her tight as she shivered, the snow had been pretty at first... But now she would have to find a place to stay. If she slept out here tonight, she would freeze out here. She wanted to get a hotel or something, but she was running out of money and she was too young to rent a room too.

But she was so tired... It was nearly midnight now... And she had been walking all day without anything to eat to see if she could get a job somewhere... but then she had realized that was stupid. She was a minor, from America... She couldn't get a job here in Canada. Why hadn't she gone somewhere else, like Wisconson? It would be just as cold too..

She sat down on the bench with a sigh of defeat, her breath rising in the cold as the snow flakes started gathering on her raven hair. "I should have planned this out better..." She muttered quietly before givin a yawn. Now she was sitting down, she began to feel even more tired. But she had to stay awake... She couldn't lay down... But she was so tired...

Moving her arms lightly she lay down on the snowy bench. For a moment she was just laying there, stairing at the snow... But slowly... Slowly Keilana's brown eyes began to drift shut... She was beginning to feel warm now... The cold didn't really bother her anymore.

A soft sigh fell from the man’s full lips as he locked the office behind him and stepped into the waiting elevator. Stepping into the car and looking at his warped reflection in the quickly closing doors, he adjusted his tie slightly with one hand as he pressed the number one with the other. It was a series of moments, and a surprisingly elegant interpretation of Mozart’s ninth flowing from the elevator’s speakers and the man had arrived at his destination. The doors slid open as if by will alone and the man stepped out onto the white marble floor with a soft gait, his polished black dress loafers marking out a rhythmic beat as he went.

Once he was around the elevator bank and into the Lobby proper, a voice that was all sweetness and softness, like fresh bread called out to the him and the man paused long enough to see a small woman rise up from behind one of the bulkiest pieces of furniture he had ever seen and come toward him.

“That it for the night Mr. Drago?” The little African-American woman asked, her security guard’s uniform a soft white that made her oddly pale chocolate skin look richer, though not any darker. This was a property of her skin tone, one of the few things other than her eyes and her accent gave her away as Black Irish.

The uniform also came with a blue patch at her shoulder and a gold clip with the name Franny etched into it as it rested over her heart, both proclaimed the woman Security as well, as if the uniform had not been enough.

This thought made Sergei Bjarnarson, turned Sergei Drago smile softly as the woman gazed up at him with the most striking blue eyes he had ever seen and Sergei nodded tiredly, not truly tired, but putting on the show for the pretty mortal woman.

“Ah yes, dear Franny.” He replied. “I believe these old bones need a shower and a rest. I’ve been up all night.”

Franny nodded, returning his smile. Her teeth were perfect and a brilliant white against the dark richness of her skin and suddenly the woman wrapped her arms around Sergei’s waist giving him a slight hug. The only one she could manage with her at her height and him at his.


Sergei smiled a soft smile even as he didn’t bother to speak.

“Have a good night sir. Thank you for the holiday bonus increase last month, because I know I haven’t seen you of late to say it.”

Sergei smiled again.

“You work hard Franny, everyone here does. You all disserved it.”

An eloquent bit of moment on The Norseman’s part then sperated him from the grateful woman and he slipped silently through the glass doors and out into the darkness and cold beyond. The first touches of snow caught Sergei’s attention and he was suddenly reminded of home…his true home as he made his way toward St. Raine’s Square and his usual path through town toward his home of this age.

Dressed warmly, despite his immunity to the cold, or perhaps truly because of it. Sergei liked to feel mortal if only for a little while and he did with his dark over coat and gloves, his suit underneath and his lined boots, though his breath didn’t steam on the wind as he went.

Walking it wasn’t long before he entered the square proper and it was even less a measure of time before he noticed the living form on a bench of all places in the terrible cold.

Lana had been laying there, still a while now for the snow had gathered on her body, even her face. The flakes were pure white against her night black hair that stuck out from benieth the cheep ski cap she had stolen earlier that day as it began to snow. Her breath was light, puffing warm against the snow and rising to cool in the night air. Her body was trembling all over slightly, but only noticeable if one were to touch her.

She wasn't asleep... No, not really... She was in that stage between sleep and waking where dreams came... Strange dreams that one could never tell if they were real or simply dreams...

Her father... Instructing her the night before a play she was to be in... Drilling her in her lines before she was to go to bed... It was so late, but he wouldn't let her sleep. Not until she got every line right... He would move on when she got a line right, not stopping, but when she got one wrong he would chastize her...

"Why do I have to do this papa! I know all my lines, you know I do!" Lana protested after her father had yelled at her again. "You don't know them Keilana! You've been messing them up all night! You need to practice, the play is tomorrow night!" "But papa! I can't think now. It's late! Please let me go to bed? I'll show you tomorrow that I know all the lines." She pleaded.

As the young girl lay still a little murmur came from her now pale lips, her hand gave a slight twitch.

So tired... She needed to sleep... She needed to find a warm place... But Lana was warm... There was no cold now... Not here in the land of sleep. But why was her father here? She wasn't in a play... Her hand gave another twitch, another murmur from her throat sounded.

Eyes of an ambiguous blue, a blue not quite the deep ocean and yet much to dark for the clear skies, eyes of a blue that was not quite that in the heart of open flame. An ambiguous hue were the eyes that beheld the plethora of ebony locks cascading across the heavy bench as ebony and ivory became one, not only within the girl’s mane, but the insistent fall of snow and the superior endurance that was darkness.

Sergei could see her breath and see the snow on her skin. He took her in, from the cheap hat to the fall of her hair. It was immediately apparent that she was sleeping here. Yet how cold it was. Sergei had long ago gave up on feeling the cold as mortals did. There would be no shivers for him, no chattering of teeth or truly anything other than that enduring sameness that was immortality. This girls however was not so likewise blessed, or cursed. And that combined with a sense of human decency more than anything drove him to his next course of action.

Kneeling, unthinking of his suit. He touched a single gloved hand to her shoulder. He immediately felt the shudders that ricocheted up his appendage and that pushed him into awakening her with a gentle shake.

“You must wake up, little one.” He whispered. “This is no place for you, you’ll catch your death in this weather.”

A whisper in her mind... Not the harsh yellings of her father telling her to practice... But a gentle voice... One telling her to wake up.

"But I'm so tired..." Her dream self said. And she was, she didn't want to move.

Again the voice whispered, urging her to move. There was something in that voice that seemed to pull her out of that warmth. That half-sleep. But then she began to feel the cold, and that began to wake her up sharply. Lana began to shiver harder as she felt the cold, but her body was so stiff... And she couldn't open her eyes.

Where was she? Who's hand was that on her shoulder? She felt the gentle shake at her shoulder and moved slightly. She was so cold now... Even colder than before. Why had someone woken her up? She had been so warm before.

"You'll catch your death out here." She heard the voice say now.

"Who are you..." A bairly audible mumble escaped as she still lay there, to stiff to move on her own. She wanted to move, to sit up and open her eyes to see who this was. "What do you want...?"

As she awoke concern creased the blond brows together. Sergei watched her carefully, he thoughts suddenly rippling into his mind like wind through an opened window. He could see the world she left behind suddenly imposed upon his own sight, he saw a man that she recognized as her father and yet even as he did, his concern grew that much more.

The child was cold. It wracked her thoughts and thus wracked his own. He couldn’t so much feel her unresponsive limbs as he could feel her wariness, hear it in her voice as finally she spoke aloud.

This brought Sergei to his feet. His gloved hands slipped quickly from the sleeves of his thick overcoat, it was a blend of wool and cotton, hung nearly to his knees and yet he rest it across the girl’s sprawled form and began tucking it around under her even as he lifted her into arms that supported her effortlessly. The coat made a blanket of sorts, so was their difference in size and yet even so he still felt the shockwaves of her cold as he clutched her to a body that would offer her little heat.

“My name is Sergei.” He said finally. As for what he wanted, he didn’t have an immediate answer, yet even so he said.

“I want to help you. If I don’t you might die. This weather is…it is not something you sleep in.” …especially in the middle of a park, his mind finished.

Keilana was too tired and cold to protest as he lifted her effortlessly in his arms. she had felt something warm wrapped around her, something that helped fight at the shivers that wracked her slender body.

She wanted to protest his actions, but she couldn't. In fact she curled up in his arms, trying to keep warm now. Where was he going to take her though? Was he going to take her to the police? Was he going to take her to a hopsital or something? If he did that, she'd be found out... But of course that didn't regester in her mind.

She opened her pale lips to say something but then they closed again, as if she had forgotten what to say or if she hadn't had the strength. Sergei... That was a funny name... Was he from another country? His voice sounded like it...

"Where... Where are you taking me?" She murmred against him now. The frozen snow flakes had melted from her eyelashes with the warmth of her breath pushed back at her face and she was finally able to open her brown eyes. But they were blurry with cold and tiredness... So sleepy.

Where was he taking her? That was the question wasn’t it? Sergei thought first of the hospital. Mercy hospital, surely they could do something for the girl, assure her health. After all he could not. Sergei wasn’t a doctor; he had studied nothing of the profession’s finer skills. All that he knew of medicine was at least a thousand years old, save the little he’d read and heard of the advances of the world in which he lived.

Still the hospital was not overly appealing to Sergei either, if only for the fact that he was no longer a fledgling. Even now he got by in the mortal world by straying from direct light, employing old salves and creams he’d learn to make and apply as mortals used make-up, and also not in short order through the vampire’s supernatural skill at coercion. Sergei however trusted these things very sparingly and a crowded Emergency Room was nowhere for his fear of discovery to be proven valid. And if he took her to a hospital they would never allow him so simply leave her without explanation, no.

His brow creased again as he held her. His mind then moved on to her. Yes. Perhaps she had somewhere he could take her, some place from the cold where someone would be able to care for her.

“Do you have some place that I might take you?” He asked then, praying to the old gods that the response be favorable.

She bairly heard him as she was going back and forth between the dream land and the cold.

Somewhere to go? "No..." Lana whispered. Where could she go? She had no family up here. Her only family was in New York or Hawaii. She didn't have family up here. "I... I ran away from home..." She said softly. "I'm so cold... No one knows that... I.. I'm here..." And she didn't want to go home. Even as tired and as miserable as she was she didn't want to go home. She didn't want to hurt her mother and brother anymore. She didn't have the strength to face her father anymore... She couldn't stay there or go back there now.

Lana wanted to sleep again, she knew she had to stay awake, but she was so tired. She couldn't keep her eyes open anymore... She couldn't talk anymore. Her head fell into his chest lightly as her eyes fluttered shut.

But then the dreams came again. This one was different though...

"Keilana! What was that you tried to pull up there! You nearly made a fool of me with that slip up! It could have soct you the pagent Keilana!" Her fathers face was only inches from hers as her vision got blurry with tears. "Papa! I couldn't just say the same thing as that other girl! I had to do something else. You know I did!" She choked out.

Keilana hadn't even seen the backhand coming, but it caught her hard on the jaw. And suddenly she was looking up from the floor. "You're lucky you won girl. Now, get up and stop your crying! You're stronger than that."

Keilana whimpered slightly as her eyes opened up again, splinting the light and the man's face so she couldn't see. "Don't- Don't tell anyone please..." She whispered.

As her mind jumped in and out of consciousness as her vision fractured and the whole of creation seemed to crumble for the little figure in his arms, Sergei found himself unable to turn from her. In the mind and in the flesh he watched over her. He saw her dreams as she saw them, her memories. He felt the blow as a physical thing and as she was or as she had been, so to was he, helpless before it all.

It dismayed him. Never before or at least as far as he cared to remember had Sergei ever found himself helpless. That is save for a millennium and centuries ago when he and his brothers of the wolf brotherhood had found themselves on a foreign shore at the mercy of a foe none of them could ever have imagined let alone defended against. The girl’s memories jogged his own and like a swimmer desperate as he slips beneath the waves, he fought until finally his breath came fast and harsh, causing no disruption whatsoever on the air as the girl’s did.

“I will tell no one.” He promised her then, after a moment to catch his breath.

The same breath was slow and hard, labored, not with fatigue or ailment, but memory. He began walking then, he adjusted the girl in his arms, wrapped his coat more tightly about her holding her close despite his body’s lack of definable heat. Some habits never die. And as he moved he spoke low and genuinely to her.

“Please do not be afraid…you’ve my word, I won’t harm you. Nor shall harm befall you in my care. Since you’ve no place, come with me.”

It was a ways home, normally Sergei enjoyed walking it. If only for the chance to watch the mortals come and go about their lives. It gave him a chance to if not live, then to at least observe the living…but now he had more pressing matters. Holding her close Sergei made a short walk of reaching the city streets. From there he stood a silent sentry until he spotted a taxi cab.

Keilana couldn't hear his words... Or at least she didn't know she did. But she felt something... Something that was almost like warmth, but not quite. It was like a reasurance that she would be safe... That she would be okay...

The softest of murmurs came from her as he wrapped her tighter, held her closer.

Standing up from the ground she turned to run as fast as she could in the heals, lifting the hem of the gown she was wearing, a Sky blue with silver embroidery. She was supposed to be strong... But how could she be when he kept telling her how bad she was. All she wanted to do was to make him proud of her, to see him smile and hug her close.

But that would never happen. Even if she won, that still wasn't enough for him. There was always something he thought she could do better... He thought she could be perfect and he expected her to! She couldn't be perfect, no one could. Why did he think she could be?

Keilana was still shivering though, and the snow on her cloths was making her damp now. But she was warmer than before. "Where... Where are we going?" She murmured against his chest.

Sergei didn’t answer her until finally the cab had stopped before him and he had the chance to open the door as he supported her with a single arm. Still holding her as he shuffled into the backseat, he whispered.

“Home…my current home.” He amended.

The cabby was a dark skinned man, with hair of an equally dark brown. He wore a thick coat with fur at it’s neck and a hat of the same if similar make. His eyes were dark as well, but his expression was anything but, even for having stopped in the softly falling snow he looked composed if not a bit amused.

“Well hi,” He said being the first to open communications between them. “Where can I take you and your little girl tonight?”

Sergei blinked, his little girl?

All of his children had died long ago, there children’s children even. And then he remembered the mortal girl in his arms and he smiled if only a bit. Her father, him? Still it didn’t matter; the man could think whatever he’d like.


“4112 Creedance, Place.” The Norseman said finally.

The cabby grinned.

“That home?” He asked, hitting a switch off to his left that flooded the back seat with warm air. Sergei could feel it no more than he could feel the cold, but was glad for the gesture.

“For now.” He replied, looking at the girl in his arms.

“Pretty fancy neighborhood.” The cabby commented, and then things fell silent as he began to drive.

She was in her world of dreams as Sergei moved them into the cab. The jostling woke her slightly and she gave a little murmur. Had she been awake enough to hear the drivers comment about her befing the daughter of the man who carried her she would have laughed. Her skin was rich and tanned, and from what little she had seen, his skin was pale, his hair light as well.

But of course she didn't hear him.

A moment later she felt genuinly warm all over. And she wasn't that asleep either, because she could hear the rumble of an engine... A car perhaps. And she could feel arms holding her still. Warm... She was warm now, but so tired. Was it safe to sleep now? Could she be sure that he wasn't going to hurt her or do anything like that?

Yes... She knew he was good. She didn't know how, but she could feel it some how. Was it his voice? The soft, gentle way he spoke? That must have been it.

But she had to stay awake, as much as she wanted to sleep... She had to stay awake.

As her body began to warm up she began to move little by little, moving her stiff fingers in her thin gloves, wiggling her toes in her shoes. She didn't want to move about too much as the man holding her might not like it.

There was nothing but the growl of the engine and the breath of the child in his arms for Sergei as he sat silently, simply holding her and listening to her breath as it seemed to change. She was on the edge of conciseness, he could feel it in more ways than one and while he might have liked to speak to her…he truly had nothing to say. Nothing that he wanted the cabby to hear at any rate, so he simply sat holding her as the car made its way forward as the engine became a growl in his sensitive ears.

Little by little he felt her move. That caused Sergei to glance at her just a bit. What was he doing? Really? Why was he taking a mortal child into his home of all places? And truly what could he do for her other than offer her a fire and perhaps tea. Sergei didn’t eat or drink truly and hadn’t bothered to pretend. He didn’t get many visitors and thus didn’t bother with the games that came from existing among mortals.

What was he going to do?

His breath came out slow and shallow, a sigh.

Then finally he spoke.

“Are you awake then?” His voice was soft, soothing even. It held only a question and at it, Sergei even relaxed his arms a bit against the hold he’d had on her before.

She heard the sigh first... But didn't know what to make of it. But then she heard his words. She gave a little nod. "Just bairly... I'm so tired..." She said in a whisper. She had been walking all day, had been awake so long with a little food. She was getting warmer though, so that was one less thing to complain about.

"Why are you helping me though?" She asked as she shifted slightly in his arms. She opened up her eyes half way, as far as she could mannage, to look up at him. "But... I... Thank you..." Why did it really matter why? He was kind... She knew it as much as she knew she was tired.

She wanted to sleep... But not yet... She couldn't sleep just yet.

His arms were loser, alowing herself to turn sideways. It was almost instinctive, the way she curled around him, like the way she used to sleep against her mother when she had nightmares as a little girl. She missed her mother terribly... She wanted to be back with her again. But she didn't want her mother to be afraid of her. There was something wrong with her and it terrified her mother and little brother. She couldn't go back. Not until she was better.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Sergei found himself by way of reply. Truth be told he could tell that she was tired, one needn’t hypersensitivity or telepathy, it was in the sound of her voice. A soft strain. It was what was behind the eyes that looked up at him. Another soft sigh escaped his lips then at her question and he looked thoughtful before saying.

“Just showing a little human kindness I suppose,” His smile was sad. “Such is far and in between for some of us. And showing it if nothing else is a reminder…that I was-” He cut himself off before his next words slipped, “once human.”

Sergei had watched the rise and fall of ages, of peoples, even the births and deaths of his own descendants. It is said that it is the hardest thing in the world for a parent to bury a child, but in some cases Sergei had buried his children’s children. And while melancholy was thick, he could always fine a bit of joy or so he thought and that made him smile.

“Perhaps it’s just good for the soul.” He suggested then.

She managed a small, weak smile for him as her eyes closed again. "Thank you..." She whispered softly. It was nice to see that there were kind people in the world. People who would care about a total stranger and welcome them into their own home to help them. It was good to see that kindness wasn't dead after all.

Curled about him like a little child she turne dher head, burring it in his stomach. she could fainly hear his steady heartbeat and it slowly made her want to drift off to sleep... She was trying to stay awake, but she couldn't. She was so terribly tired...

"Pekelo! Where are you little brother?" Keilana called out with a smile. "Do you wanna go out and play with me?" She hadn't seen her little brother since he got back from school, and he alwaysed come to bug her to play. But why not today? "Kelo?" Opeing the door to her little brother's room she heard a gasp and watched as the little boy scrambled back on his bed.

"Sissy! Uh... No... I... I don't wanna go out." He shook his head quickly, a fearful look in his face. "I-I'm sorry I bothered you on the phone Sissy! I am really... I just needed help on-"

Keilana gave a puzzled smile. "What are you talking about Kelo?"

"You didn't have to hit me Sissy!" The boy looked near on crying. "And call me all those mean names... I just wanted help with math..."

Keilana was frowning now. "Pekelo, I wouldn't hurt you for anything little brother." She said as she moved to hug him but he shied away. "Kelo..." But it was aparent that the boy wasn't going to talk anymore so she turned away defeatedly and walked away... What had happened? She didn't remember hurting Kelo. And she never would! She loved her little brother more than anything! But he was so afraid of her...

"Where.... Where's Pekelo?" She murmured to Sergei. "Is he okay?"

Eyes of an ambiguous blue widened. Sergei didn’t dare push into the girl’s mind and yet even as he looked at her he could only nod to her thanks. Time and time again her consciousness pushed into his, it felt like some vile invasion of privacy and yet the more he listened the more he became curious.


He held her as she shuffled into him and he found himself at a lost for what exactly he could do with her. So he did the only thing he could, he held her as he listened to her mind.

“You have to stay awake, little one.” He whispered then, and a few moments later. “Who is Pekelo?” He knew very well whom Pekelo was, but she had to tell him.

Next the car came to a stop and Sergei blinked. He’d almost forgotten the cab and cabby. The man was giving him a considering look through the rearview mirror. It suddenly made the vampire self-conscious but he met the man’s gaze none the less only slightly worried at what he might have heard.

Reaching, he opened the door; he slid back into the cold once again bracing the child in his arms as he did. He then paid the driver and even managed to slip into the man’s mind, it took more than a moment to manipulate his memories but then finally it was done and the man would remember none of their conversation. This too filled Sergei with a deep seated regret, but it could not be helped. He couldn’t have a suspicious mortal knowing of his home and suspecting him of kidnapping children.

Finally when things were done, he supported the child in the crook of his arm once more as he walked through a high iron gate leaving the retreating cab behind. He walked across an already snow covered walkway with knee high bushes and shrubs. Some were green despite the snow others skeletal fingers clawing toward the sky. Like wise were the trees that came at regular intervals along the walk way path until finally they disappeared and vast stretches of frost glittering grass was revealed. Walking on, it wasn’t long then before a mansion loomed.

Among the expensive trappings of this particular part of Canada such a place wasn’t so impressive and yet the mansion was a thing of old splendor refebished if only to be air tight. And it hosted a rather impressive hearth that harkened however faintly back to Sergei’s origins.

“Welcome to my home.” He said softly again, opening the door and closing it behind him as he moved into the den.

She gave a soft whimper as he told her to stay awake... Pekelo...

"My little brother..." She murmured as she heard his question through the layers of sleep that threatened to smother her. "He... He was scared..." Her words were a quiet mumble now. "He wouldn't talk to me... What's wrong?" She asked Sergei, as if he woudl be able to tell her.

Lana curled up tightly as she felt a rush of cold air over her and the sudden reaperance of the harsh tempurature made her whole body tremble. Was he just going to take her some place else now? Leave her out in the snow again? She didn't know... But she didn't think so...

After only a few moments of trembling she felt herself surrounded by warmth again and gave a soft, greatful whimper as she relaxed against him again and pressed herself close. Could she sleep now? Could she rest and be warm? She wanted to sleep for days, sleep for a week...

"Keilana darling, I'm really getting worried about you. They say you've been causing problems at school, picking fights and yelling at teachers. Is something wrong at achool Keilana?" Came the soft voice as Keilana looked up at her mother.

"No mama. I... I haven't done anything like that! I promise! You know I wouldn't!" Keilana protested quietly. But her mother didn't look nearly as certian.

"Even here darling, you've been acting so differently. Your father says you're becoming stuborn and even rude, and Pekelo always has a frightend look when he's in the same room as you. Are you doing dr -"

"Mama please! I'm not on drugs! How could you even think that!" She said, obviously offended that her mother didn't trust her. "I don't know what's going on. I haven't done anything to Pekelo or at school! You know I always listen to papa even if I don't want to!" Standing up she moved to her room quickly, not wanting her mother to see the tears that were about to fall. She colapsed on her bed, crying into the pillow at last. What was going on with her? What was wrong? She hadn't done anything... Sure she had the blackouts but she just passed out then didn't she? That was what Tanya had told her... She just passed out a few times...

She was so afraid now... "What's gonna happen to me?" What was really going to happen to her now? She couldn't stay with this man... He had shown her more than enough kindness... She just hadn't been prepaired for the cold.... She couldn't take advantave of a kind stranger...

Sergei sat her down softly into the embrace of large wing backed chair of a well polished if dark wood. The red cushions were thick and soft, set with a deep and skilled embroidery of golden and colored thread that spoke of a time far removed from modern convince and mechanical labor.

In truth it was Victorian, most of this room was.

From the high bookshelves that circled the room at every side sans the entrance, to the small baby grand piano and the narrow windows where darkness stood outside oblong portal of panes quickly taking on the slow creeping frost brought with the snow, to the small desk of ornate standing in one corner with a candle and pens littering its surface of papers, new and old. All of it held a long ago feel of age and sophistication.

Over head lights had come one at the duo’s arrival and while they were good for illumination, Sergei knew most of the warmth of the house had dissipated over the course of his absence. It was warmer than outside, but not nearly enough for his mortal guest.

Taking off the coat of his smart suit, Sergei moved off to the corner closest the piano. Behind the bench there was a gray tin box. In it were small pieces of kindling that he immediately took several of and moved back toward where he had left the girl. She was before his hearth. Fire places they called them in this age. It was a wide stone opening between book cases, a shaft that ran all the way up to a chimney in the roof. Right now the cold was held off by a thin tin cover, but a chain beside the stone would open it when he was ready to release the smoke of his open fire.

Kneeling Sergei made it a focus to set the wood just right. Not because it was such an involving task, instead simply because he had no idea what to do next. He had no answers for this girl, about her family, about her memories, or even well and truly his own motivations. He was powerless, something that did not come easy to one such as himself.

When finally he was ready, he reached into his pockets and removed a book of matches. He also tore the roll of cloth he kept beside the hearth and tore out several long strips that he lit as he opened the chimney. With a bit of the breath of life or un-life given one’s consideration of his nature, he blew the flame into existence until it had become a blaze lapping at kindling and crackling in the stretched silence.

Sergei rose then, looked at the child as soothingly as he could manage.

“You’ll stay with me a while, as my guest.” He finally answered.

Feeling the softness of the chair benieth her, Keilana curled up tighter and snuggled down in it, still wrapped up in the coat. She was significantly warmer now, but still tired. Her eyes were shut as she rested her head on the arm of the chair. She could hear the man moving around, doing something...

But then the soft crackle of a fire told her that she would be even warmer soon enough. It was a nice thought and it settled her mind greatly, that this kind man had found her and was even willing to help her. It was a lucky thing for Keilana, because she knew that it would have been just as easy for someone to find her that would want to hurt her.

"I'll only stay the night... I promise..." She said quietly. She wouldn't want to intrude on his life, she didn't have that right. Besides, she just had to find some place to sleep is all. She could do that tomorrow before the sun set. "I dunt wanna be in the way..."

Could she sleep now? Could she finaly rest like she wanted to?

Keilana could feel the warmth of the fire coming towards her. "But thank you for everything." She was hesitant to tell him her name... After all, he could go to the athorities and tell them who she was and that she wasn't supposed to be here. It wasn't that she did't trust him, but he might just be trying to help her. But would he do that? Would he tell on her?

"Sir..? Will... Will you tell anyone about me?" What was his name again? She couldn't remember...

Sergei smiled or rather as close to a smile as he could manage. He couldn’t be sure it was reassuring or otherwise after all how did he know what reassured a mortal child and yet he found that he did want to reassure her. The things he’d seen in her mind, more that which he could feel. A part of him simply felt sympathy for her and he nodded to her question quickly despite any feeling he might have to the contrary, not that he could go to the local authorities anyway. They asked too many questions.

“I won’t tell anyone.” He promised.

His gaze move over her then, and he quickly retreated to the hall he had used to enter the room however moving in the opposite direction from the front door, it wasn’t long before he came upon a small nook in the hallway wall. It was closed off between to small doors and Sergei opened them, removing a large blanket.

Throwing it over an arm, he quickly moved back into the room he’d left behind a made a chore of tucking it around the young girl. When he was done, a soft sigh spilled from his lips.

“And you may stay as long as you need…you’re not in the way.”

That last surprised him, not for its truth, but that he’d said it at all. Sergei didn’t know this girl, had no clue but the memories he’d seen to give him any vision whatsoever of who she was…and yet…he’d said it.

Even though Sergei might not have been used to reasuring humans, with her he did a good job, for she was comforted and reasured as he said that he wouldn't tell anyone. She wasn't supposed to be here after all, and if anyone knew she was here she would certianly be sent back.

"Thank you." She whispered as she felt him tuck a heavy blanket around her. HIs voice was so comforting... And he seemed to know what to do. Was he a father himself? It seemed like he was. The way he held her, the way he treated her, it was fatherly, like even her own father had been years ago when she was little.

"My name's Keilana by the way..." She murmured sleepily as she snuggled into the blanknet. She pulled a part of it under her head to use as a pillow and burried her face in to the fabric. Perhaps she would talk to him later, if she felt that she could trust him in the morning.

"I'm so tired... Can I sleep now?"

She probably would though. He hadn't given her any reason what so ever to mistrust him. And tomorrow she would be rested up to tell him. Maybe he would know someone who could help her with her problem. She hated the thought of going to a shrink... That would be admitting she was weak. No... It would be good. Admitting there were things that she couldn't control. No one could control everything.

Another sigh and a soft nod…

“You are welcome,” Sergei made it a slow statement, getting a feel for the name. “Keilana.”

It was an odd name, or at least odd to him. Then again most names of this age were a mystery to him. So many languages, so many cultures, it was hard to keep up if only partly in part to his own decedents. And yet Sergei had always found a delight in all these “new” peoples and new cultures…

At her next question however Sergei shook his head. Truth be told he had no idea if it was safe now for her to sleep, in his time it one had been “healthy” if one was warm and fed, so much had changed…but he did want something in her belly even if he couldn’t offer much.

“I was hoping that you could stay awake,” He offered then. “If only to have a bit of tea. It will warm you on the inside.”

Keilana shook her head as much as she could in her current position. "I don't usualy drink tea..." But if he had some coffee she probably would have accepted it. She drank coffee almost habitualy and the stronger the better. She was hungry yes, but she was more tired than anything right now. She probably wouldn't have even been able to hod a cup long enough to finish anything.

"But... But I could try I guess..." She gave in. After all, he seemed concerned for her health. And she could probably use something that would warm her up.

She managed to force herself to sit up in the chair, pulling the blanket tight around her. She was propped up in the chair now, held in place by the blankets that kept her from falling back over in the chair.

"Thank you." Sergei offered by way of comment with a slight nod. "How would you like it?" He asked then, quickly adding. "I have lemon and honey, milk I believe, and of course sugar."

To tell the truth, those were the only things he had. Sergei wasn't one for eating; in fact he was pretty sure that he no longer could. It had been so long since last he tried that he didn't even clearly remember the attempt...but he could drink. Not get drunk on mead or the spirited drink as he and his father, brothers, and sons once had, but he could drink and that included tea which he had developed a taste for at least sparingly.

Looking at the child, he could feel her reluctance. Her thoughts were far less piercing now, his natural shields held her coconsciousness from him, but he could still feel her emotions and besides her expression spoke just as clearly as anything else of the indulgence she provided. And if only for his own nerves, for this he was thankful.

“I’ll get to work on the tea.” He announced then, and like the blanket before it, it dictated that he return to the hall only this time he headed directly forward and through the portal into his kitchen.

It was hardly a small space. In truth it was large if only by proxy to the dinning hall that connected to it with its large and wholly unused banquet table covered in spotless white sheets. All of it was spotless truly, spotless from disuse, it only lacked dust because of his immaculate care with cleaning each and every space when he grew discontent to sit by his fire with a favorite book or at his office desk, wading through the endless annals of cyberspace. If Sergei was truly honest with himself, this place saddened him. If only for the reason he had loved it when he bought it. It reminded him of the familiar, that which he could never have again…

Moving onward, he slid into the kitchen. It was stainless, steel, and sterile. Utterly modern, from its stove to its appliances and beyond, totally devoid of the character of his den which was no doubt why it was so rarely used…well one of the reasons, if he felt like lying to himself.

Sergei made sure to ignore the thoughts as they came. He ignored everything except for the only things in the kitchen that had moved since there arrival, the tea pot held a slight china pattern, the stove knob set an open gas blaze to burn, and the refrigerator door moved on well oiled hinges.

It wasn’t long then before the scent of strong tea filled the kitchen and was joined by the smell of sugar, honey, lemon, and surprisingly milk. Sometimes Sergei forgot that it spoiled, but not this time. The vampire placed it all on a tray and it wasn’t long before he had returned to his guest with it all balanced on a single arm.

How did she like her tea? She... She really didn't know. After all, she didn't drink tea much, even though she knew that milk went with most teas but you had Lemon with Earl Gray... That was about it though.

But he left before she could display her ignorance on the subject.

Keilana tried to wake herself up more, wanting to make sure she wasnt going to fall asleep or spill her tea. Even from the kitchen she could smell the tea and it made her stomach growl softly. Now more awake she could feel the hunger. But she could ignore it for now. Ignore discomfort for the time being until you could do something about it.

But he came back a few minutes later, the scent of the tea seeming to wake her up the longer she smelt it. She gave a small smile as she saw him balancing the tray on his arm. "Try doing that on your head." She said with a smile of white teeth. "And if it falls you'll burn yourself for sure." Her papa made her do things like that to help her with her posture.

"But... What do usually put in tea?" She asked tilting her head slightly as he came back. "I... I dont drink tea very often."

Sergei was unsure how to reply to the girl’s first statement, if only because it caught him by surprise. Then with a soft smile he said rather easily.

“Actually I can, I could show you how.” It was the truth, posture was one of many things that had come up during his decidedly long existence. You learn things both useful and not very. Learning was one thing that his kind did exceptionally well, no matter the lesson. Still some things came easier than others and it had been a long, long time since last he’d cared for a child.

Taking the tray from his arm and setting it in front of the girl, he made a show of pouring her tea and smiled slightly at the strong aroma as it trailed down the back of his throat. It mixed with the scent of the milk, the sugar, and the honey, which led him to the child’s next question.

“Well it depends on my mood,” He answered. “Sometimes I feel like milk, other times not. Some people drink it with simply a few cubes of sugar or just a twist of lemon. It all depends on the person at the time really.”

He was thoughtful then.

“Maybe you should try honey and lemon…” He chuckled. “They say it prevents colds.”

"Oh, I know how." She said with her tired smile. "Trays... books... Anything flat and solid..." She stifled a yawn in the blanket.

She listened curiously though as he spoke about tea. So it was a matter of taste then? Well that made sence too.

Keilana nodded as he suggested honey and lemon. She always liked lemon iced tea, so it couldn't be too bad. "I will try that then. Thank you..." She fought off another yawn. "But I don't get sick easily. Never missed a day of school in my life for being sick." Only for pageants on occasions and now that she ran away. But of course she couldn't tell him that...

"I... I'm sorry... But I don't recall your name sir..." Now that she was more awake, and looking around he seemed to be more of the proper type, she began to recover her manners and propiety. She knew she probably looked a mess... But he would excuse that. After all, he had found her in a worse shape. "I know you told it to me... But I can't remember."

Sergei couldn’t help a nod and a smile.

“Impressive, in this day and age…” He commended softly.

Sergei then took a seat beside her own in a chair that looked familiar if nothing else, it was the matching twin to hers and he let out a soft sigh as he turned his attention to the gloves he wore. Reaching down, he pulled one finger free, working the rest with his other gloved hand. When finally he freed it, his hand was pale as marble. Unlike his face, he rarely bothered to make most of his skin fit for moral eyes.

Yet now he had a mortal in his home. Almost subconsciously he placed the hand in his lap where the girl couldn’t see or at least not so clearly. The fire was warming him, but still his hand felt suspiciously like stone to him, even through the remaining glove. It made him sigh again.

Then when the girl spoke again, his expression was as cordial as he could manage.

“Sergei. My name is Sergei, Sergei Drago…” He said.

Keilana didn't say anything to his first words, but it was... Not many people still did that really. But well, in her world and business...

She caught a glimps of the pale hand as he pulled it from the glove. It was so much paler than the rest of his face... She was worried, but yet her face stayed blank. She knew how to hide her emotions, but she couldn't help but wonder. Was he sick? Was there something that she might be able to do to help him? Something to return the kindness he had shown her? But she thought it would be rude to ask... And he seemed to hide it anyway... So she would pretend as if she hadn't seen it.

Instead she focused her mind on his words. Well more so his name. "Sergei..." She said quietly. "A name as unique as my own..." She said with that small sleepy smile. "Where are your family from? The scandinavian area?" She asked curiously, simply making conversation to keep her awake. "Mine are from Hawaii... My parents moved to New York just before I was born. So I grew up there all my life."

She at least owed him an explination of why he had found her on the bench in the could. And she'd get there eventually. But she was to tired to tell the whole story in one fell swoop...

Sergei’s expression was pensive for a moment, if only because he wondered at how much of himself to reveal if any to the mortal child beside him. And then he simply nodded at last as slight smile took up residence on his sharp features.

“The village I grew up in didn’t exactly have a name, but yes scandinavian area is pretty accurate.”

His features relaxed then and he studied her a bit as he replied.

“I’ve only seen pictures of Hawaii, have you ever been? Visited family?” Like her, Sergei was simply making small talk. However unlike her, he was obviously less practiced, at least in the current situation. Sergei was to say the least, out of practice with mortals, out of practice hiding what he was. Instead he tended to avoid mortals as best he could, to only engage them when he had no choice or one truly captured his interest…not that he wasn’t interested in the child. He just hadn’t spoken with someone so young, in so very long and before had been as a father.

Keilana nodded at his question. "Yes sir." She answered. "Several times over my life. Even though my parents love New York, they couldn't forget where they had come from. We would visit almost twice a year. Durring the summer for nearly a month, and over Christmas vacation from school." The pagaents durring the summer was why they took to long really. Not to visit family, but for work. Or at least what Keilana saw as work.

"It is a very beautiful place. The pictures never do it justice."

It was as she was speaking she saw the piano and her eyes lit up for a second dispite her tiredness. "Do you play Mr. Drago?" She asked curiously. Some people had piano's because they played them, others had them just to give airs and pretend to be 'high class'. Sergei seemed like he would at least know a few things, or perhaps he took lessons in the past.

As she spoke, Sergei nodded. Not the kind of nodding that was pretending to listen, but instead the kind that comes from active participation and he smiled at her explanation. Sergei understood all too well, he hadn’t been back to his home in a very long time, but that didn’t take if from his mind, his thoughts. No especially not at times like this when the snow fell and everything was covered in ivory, at least for a little while.

The whole world looked surprisingly similar covered in snow. He could close his eyes and feel the wind on his face, imagine mountains and forest, the cries of wolves and the crackling fire became that of a hearth that had not been for more than a thousand years.

He sighed. All of that was gone, gone and forgotten, if not by him then by humanity. The world kept on turning…

Sergei blinked then, as if coming out of a trance. He smiled, then nodded.

“Yes, I play. At least from time to time…and Keilana, if I’m going to call you Keliana, Sergei will do.”

Keilana nodded attentivly, for she was as attentitive as she could be for being exausted. But her fingers were beginning to itch now... To try out that piano to hear the melodies that it could make when one could show it just what to do... But she gave a shakey smile as Sergei corrected her on his name. "I'm sorry sir... My family is just very stern when it comes to propiety and manners... Especialy my father."

At the thought of her father she felt a little tingle go down her spine at the thought of her father. She was afraid to go back now that she left... She didn't know how he would react if he found her here, or if she went back home... Well if she went back home, perhaps it would be better in the end, but she would eventualy... She would have to... But not untill she was cured... Cured of whatever problem she had. At least she was strong enough to admit that she had a problem...

She snuggled into the blanket against that little chill.

"But you have a very lovely home Mr. Dr- um... Sergei... It seems to be a style... from the thirties maybe?" She said, wanting to direct the chit-chat away from her and her father...

Sergei simply nodded. He understood that some families drilled manners into their children and it made him think of his own sons and daughter. They’d been dead ages upon ages ago, but that didn’t erase his memory of them. Of their first hunts, teaching them to sail, even in the usage of a sword. The last had been drilled more than anything else if only because it had been a matter of survival. A father made his sons the best swordsman he could, so that he’d see that son again.

His daughter hadn’t hunted, at least not as much as her brothers, and she had only learned to use a long knife like most women. But that had never changed his love for her. He’d loved a girl as much as boys. He’d taught her how to fish, draw and make nets. And he’d watched her and her mother as they tanned animal skins. Sergei had loved his children, but they were but a memory now. One he had to close his eyes against, to keep red tinged tears from his eyes.

He opened them quickly though, eyes wide and attentive. He had fallen into memory, but never truly stopped paying attention.

The young girl’s guess made him smile.

“You’re right, that is if you meant the 1830’s. Most of this is Victorian furnishings about 1838 or so. A tab bit old, but then so to is its owner.” Sergei made the truth sound like a joke. That almost always worked and besides he was simply glad for the change in topic.

Had she said something wrong? He seemed... Sad almost... Like he was remembering something that though was happy... It was gone now and he-

But it was gone a moment later as he began to talk about the furnature. And she couldn't help but be surprised. She had been thinking the 1930's or something... The upper class elagance. But "The eighteen-thirties?" She said, unable to hide the surprise in her voice. "Wow... I wouldn't think it that old. It is in fantastic condition M- Sergei." It was odd that an adult, one of apparent class, had told her to address him by his first name. "And I'm sure that my parents are older than you." She said with a smile at his apparent joke.

He didn't seem to be more than in his mid thirties. He seemed young and strong, as if only yesterday he had been in his prime.

Keilana fought off another yawn and settled further in to the blankets. The exaustion was starting to set in againand she closed her eyes now against it as if trying to conserve energy to stay awake a little longer. "I could probably sleep for a whole day I'm so tired..." She said quietly. "But at least I'm warm now." She gave a little smile even with closed eyes.

"Thank you again... I was just so tired... I probably would have froze to death out there..." Keilana was beginning to mumble again now, comfortable in the warm blankets. She could sleep like this, that was how tired she was.

“I doubt that very much Keilana,” He said with soft amusement at her statement about her parents. “A young woman always thinks her parents are old.” His expression was one of wry mirth. “And I’ll be the first to admit that I am a bit older than I look.”

A bit? That made him smile further, but he also nodded to her question about the furniture.

“It’s that old. But it could last much longer so long as it’s well taken care of. Though I suppose that’s true of anything…even people.”

His expression turned thoughtful then, an expression that told you he was thinking, but with a face that didn’t make the topic that apparent. He thought and he listened as she spoke, then finally he said.

“That’s why you should take better care of yourself. And if you want to sleep, you can sleep. You can have my bed. I’m afraid I don’t have a guest bed, but mine should do. As long as you don’t mind it being a bit big for you...”

That was a bit of an understatement. Sergei was reasonably large as men went and hailed form a culture that had valued their sleep, for all that they had been branded through out the centuries; pirates, raiders, warriors, and monsters. They had also been people that had known the joy that comes from a large hearth and a big pot, a warm mantle and a comfy bed. If one lives hard such things are a necessity, even the love Sergei’s people had of a good story had evolved from this.

And while Sergei couldn’t provide true “hospitality” he could provide what he had to his guest.

Keilana nodded as he said that she should take better care of herself. "I know... But it's not like I'm in a position to right now..." She bit her lip slightly, thinking as Sergei had done just a few moments ago. "You've probably guessed by now I ran away from home..." After all he wasn't stupid. She told him she was from New York, and as far as she knew there was no New York in Canada...

"But I didn't bring a whole lot with me... And I didn't realize how cold it would be up here."

She looked up as he offered his bed. He didn't have a guest bed or another bed? And evedently he wasn't married otherwise he wouldn't have offered his bed. But she shook her head.

"Thank you very mich Sir... But I can be comfortable just about anywhere. I wouldn't want to intrude. In fact I think sleeping by the fire would be rather nice." She said ernestly. "But..." She hesitated to ask. "Would you have a shirt or something I could change in to?" She could feel that her clothes were still wet, and the bag she had must have still been under the bench. "I think my bag is still back where you found me... It's okay of course... I can just get it in the morning or when I wake up..."

Sergei smiled.

“I thought that might be the case.” He admitted, meeting her gaze. “Though I don’t know why and won’t ask, I could tell even before you told me...it doesn’t matter though. You have your reasons.”

Truth be told from what he’d seen in her memories, Sergei could at least hazard a guess as to the young girl’s reasons for leaving her home behind. Then again he’d promised not to tell anyone and she was warm and safe so long as she was a welcomed guest within his home.

“You can sleep wherever you’d like, but you’d hardly be intruding.” He said then, “You may still have my bed if you wish. In the ti…” He paused, sighed and continued. “In the town where I am from, hospitality falls on someone when they invite another into their home. It’s a sacred trust, long in its standing.”

Sergei could not believe he’d almost said ‘time’ and yet it was true. Across the centuries things had changed, hospitality wasn’t the same thing it had once been, but for him it was as critical as any extension of a man’s honor. Such was not something to be taken lightly. It was said the gods themselves were not above punishment for such a breach and more so the man’s tradition was filled with what be fell those that would take requirements lightly.

They were parables to be sure, but that made them no less important, that they were morality tales, after all every religion spoke to its people through their consciences.

“We’ll find you something.” Sergei said. “And don’t worry about your things; I’ll get someone from my office to pick them up. They’ll probably be here when you wake up.”