Between Schuyler Van Alen and Jack Force and Mimi Force and Bliss Llewellyn and Oliver Hazard-Perry as siblings.
The New York City night was a tapestry of twinkling lights and murmuring shadows, the perfect facade for the enduring lives that thrived unseen within its heart. The grandeur of the Upper East Side belied the silent war that brewed among its most ancient inhabitants—the Blue Bloods.
Inside The Repository, a repository of uncanny knowledge exclusive for the coveted few, Schuyler Van Alen stood before a tapestried wall adorned with esoteric symbols. Her sapphire blue eyes, always luminescent with the wisdom of countless generations, reflected a storm of emotions as she traced a finger over the intricate gold-threaded pattern. Her stoic facade barely concealed the gravity of what was to be later whispered amongst the Blue Bloods—an artifact from the era of the Croatan had resurfaced. The Van Alen Legacy Sword.
At her side, the ever-dashing Jack Force maintained his protective proximity—a silent sentinel whose loyalty to Schuyler defied the very foundations of their society. "Are you certain about this?" he asked, his voice a calm blend of concern and respect.
"I can feel it, Jack," Schuyler whispered back. "The sword is calling out to us."
Across town, under the arches of her palatial bedroom, Mimi Force, Regis of the Coven, tossed and turned in her sleep. Dreams of fire and brimstone clouded her mind, the voices of fallen angels calling her towards a destiny she was yet to comprehend. She awoke with a start, her ice-blue eyes searching for a reality more comforting than her nightmares—a reality which evaded her ever since her twin brother had forsaken their bond for love.
Bliss Llewellyn, with her fiery red hair and azure eyes that once sparkled with untold stories, walked the streets alone. The recent revelations of her true parentage weighed heavily upon her shoulders, casting longer shadows with each step she took. It was during her nightly wanderings that she chanced upon the ramblings of the White Owl, a vagrant spirit rumored to carry prophecies within its hollow bones.
"The twins of fire and night will rise," the White Owl hissed as it fluttered above Bliss' head. "And the bond of blood shall decide the fate of all."
Unbeknownst to them, a voyeur lingered in the distance—Oliver Hazard-Perry. His heart, once tender and devoted to Schuyler, now harbored a hard seed of resentment. "Let them have their prophecies," he muttered to himself. "I will find my own way in this world. With or without the bond of blood."
As the chapter of another centuries-old night closed, the Blue Bloods bathed in their customary silence, unaware that the unfolding events would soon drive them deeper into the arcane labyrinth of their immortal existence. It was the night that silent whispers grew into roars, the night that the word of the Van Alen Legacy Sword passed from one pair of undead lips to another, and the night where the question of their transparent alliance would hang in the dark, indifferent sky—sterling or stained?