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[color=white] Stasa Elizabeth Sven

16

A quiet, timid, and meek girl, she doesn't talk much and speaks softly when she does. She's beautiful, some believing her to be the bastard child of a woman and a vampire from across the wall. However, that is not true as she's a 'purebred human' as was so kindly put by the Vampire geneticist (blood taster basically)

Stasa rubbed her hands against her dress, trying to clean them of the nervous sweat that coated her fair skin. It was another hot day, and the sun beat mercilessly upon the people gathered at the Gate to the City.

A quiet murmuring passed through the crowd as beautiful form stepped gracefully onto the hastily made stage in front of the giant doors. Such beauty left Stasa somewhat envious. She'd often been referred to as near beautiful as a vampire. But she could easily tell she was no where's near the same flawless grace and beauty that she saw before her.

The man, clad in flowing robes of silk and clothed in bright and gorgeous colors cleared his throat. The people grew quiet instantly, and Stasa's heart beat frantically in her chest as her nervousness returned full force. This was her first year as a candidate to brought inside the wall, and she had mixed feelings about it.

But there were dozens of other girls and boys who could be chosen, She chastised herself. Stop worrying.

The Vampire began speaking. "Today, we, your merciful and loving leaders have randomly selected one of you to be allowed to live in our fair city." He pulled out a small slip of paper from his robe, and sweat made the hair on Stasa's forehead damp.

"The lucky young girl, is Stasa Elizabeth Sven."

It took a moment for Stasa to realize what had been said; shock glued her feet to the sun baked ground. Heads turned to her, and she swallowed dryly.

Tears brimmed in the corners of her eyes but she refused to let them fall. She had never been brave before, but right now, she refused to be weak. Stasa lifted her chin and strode forward confidently. She was clothed in her best and she was adorned in jewelry. She was a fine sight.

But she was sad. She would never be able to see her parents again, and Stasa nearly sobbed at the thought. She finally reached the steps towards the stage, and she held her skirts aloft so she could climb up the steps.

It was eerily quiet. She stood by the Vampire, his beauty even greater up close, and she smoothed her skirts.

"Congratulations Miss. Sven." The man said, his voice silky soft. He held out his hand, and she tentatively took it. His skin was soft. They shook, and the crowd finally cheered. It was the same, every year.

A teen would be chosen, the people wouldn't object, and then finally celebrate like they were supposed to. Even the family would sadly accept the truth. No one every came back out from the wall.

No one.

The gate's finally closed, and Stasa let out a chocked sob as she caught the last sight of her parent's she'd ever have. Her mother was crying, her fathers face was red as he raised his hand. And then the gates shut.

A few tears streamed down her face as she blinked rapidly to stop it. She didn't know what was going to happen next, the people outside the wall only heard and saw who got to be picked.

Stasa rubbed her face with the back of her hand and looked out at the sea of faces in front of her. She suddenly felt self conscious for crying in front of all these Vampires, who's beauty far rivaled that of her own. Curiosity seeped into her mind as she waited for what would happen next.

There was a drum roll, a sound she only knew because the old man down the street owned a relic of one. And then, when it stopped, another name was called out. Stasa was confused. Blake? Who was Blake? Was he supposed to go across the wall?

No. Probably not. She'd never seen a Vampire go across the wall, except for these monthly choosings when a Vampire would announce the chosen mortal to come into the Vampire city..

Stasa looked shyly at Blake before her eyes darted down to look at her hands firmly clasped in front of her. They trembled and she tried to conceal it within the folds of her dress.

"Congratulations for both of you." The Vampire said warmly. "You have been chosen to show that the there can be a bond between Vampire and Mankind that is not fear. Though, this bond will be determined by you, and affect only you."

Stasa followed quickly after Blake, though she stayed a few steps behind him. She looked down at the ground as she walked, but was unable to keep her eyes from revealing the wonder she felt as she gazed upon the beautiful homes.

Sometimes Stasa would flinch when a Vampire accidentally brushed against her. She was high strung from all the rumors that she had heard outside the Wall. As she looked around, she realized she had yet to see another human.

Stasa looked at Blake, and couldn't help but feel curiouse about him too. She didn't know why she's been chosen to come across the wall. What the Vampire had said about 'bonds free of fear' didn't sound right to her. She wondered if Blake knew anything, but her cowardice kept her quiet.

After Blake had left, Stasa took that as a chance to finally unleash the typhoon of emotions swirling around in her gut. She slid to the floor as sobs raked her body and her shoulders shook. Tears streamed down her face and she finally tried to get a grip on herself, gasping for air as she tried to stop.

Stasa's cheeks grew red with embarrassment as she realized he had seen her break down. She inhaled a shuddering breath and wiped the tears off her cheeks with her palms. "S-sorry." She murmured, unable to meet the Vampires eyes as she tried to calm herself down.

Stasa smiled faintly as she thought of her family. She wiped away the last of her tears and let her hand drop to her side.

"Uhm..well, my mom was really strict. She always had me doing chores and acting like a lady. Sometimes a tried to get out of school, but she wouldn't let me go unless it was really bad."

"My dad was the opposite. He was more laid back, and always played with me when I was little." Stasa blushed as she realized she was telling a complete stranger practically all about her life.