A Short Story written by Sylentwhysper
Alexam lounged in front of the unlit fireplace and thought of his master. Paxil Silvan passed away not long ago, the funeral just last week. Alexam sighed, his memory extended back to the first time he met Paxil at Ravenswood Mansion.
The Old Vampire, who hadn’t looked so old at 800 years, greeted eight year old Alexam with a crook of his finger and a stern frown. On the defensive, Alexam called forth his witch magic, forming hot energy in his palm, ready to be disengaged.
Paxil smiled, “Your mother left you too early but she left you with power.”