*~Cassain's POV~*
Standing before the VanderWood mansion is always a surreal descent into the past. As I stepped inside, the weight of a millennium of memories pressed against my chest. No matter how many centuries I walk these halls, I will never truly get used to the eerie stillness of this place.
I found my younger brother in the drawing room, silhouetted by the flickering orange glow of the hearth. He didn't bother to acknowledge my entrance. He simply sat there, staring into the flames, slowly sipping from a crystal bottle of amber liquid.
"Hello, brother," I said, my voice echoing off the high, vaulted ceilings.
"Hello," he murmured, his voice thick with a boredom that only the immortal can truly master. He didn't even turn around.
"Would you at least acknowledge my presence, little brother? Don't you think being ignored is a bit disrespectful after all this time?"
