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Author Topic: A Tale of Vampires  (Read 860 times)

Carillon

A Tale of Vampires
« on: November 21, 2008, 11:25:38 am »
A Tale of Vampires

As told by Jaelle Thornwood to Trouble Tempest in the Flaming Phoenix Inn in Audira one night.


//Please note, this is a story for you, the players, to enjoy, as it is too good a quest series not to tell. However, your characters will have to learn the details in game for themselves. Much of what you will read should be considered OOC knowledge, and even then not fully the truth. This was Jaelle's telling of it, full of her own biases and still carefully edited to protect both the innocent and the not so innocent.

Alright, that said ... enjoy!
 
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Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #1 on: November 21, 2008, 11:49:42 am »
On a night in Sedera, in an inn by the sea, two adventurers share a bed. One is a young human--or could pass for one, save the slight point to his ears and a slant to the eyes. He's scruffier looking than his companion, but the life and energy of youth radiate from him. His belongings are carelessly strewn across the room: well-worn boots, garments still bearing the faint scent of the woods, and his pack.

His companion, curled beside him, is much smaller than him though still tall for an elf. In the candlelit room, her pale skin almost glows. She might be considered willowy, save for the swell of her belly indicating to all the presence of the child growing within her. She listens to his teasing and his protests for a story alluded to but never told with good grace. She looks at him, relaxed and at ease after their exuberance, and traces a finger lightly down his side as she speaks, smiling.


Alright. But it's a long story, and I need sustenance. Give me a moment.


Stealing the sheet and winding it around her, she slips out of bed and splashes cool water from a basin on her face. She pours more from a pitcher into a cup and drinks, then retrieves a large bowl that she'd hidden away earlier in the evening. The bowl is full of fruits from the Sederan climate, mercifully cold due to the minor magic she wove around it earlier. Returning to bed, she places the bowl of cut fruit where both of them can reach it and curls up against him again.


Remember though, my sweet ... there is one condition to hearing this tale. You cannot repeat it. Too many people I care for could be hurt if this tale was told too soon. And as such, I will also leave out a few details to protect the innocent ... and the not so innocent. Agreed?


She savors a piece of mango while she waits for him to accept her condition, judging his sincerity. When she's satisfied, she begins.


A tale of vampires ... and other things. Though not, surprisingly, of tomatoes ... but we'll come to that. And not an easy tale to tell, for stories must start at the beginning, and this story has more than one beginning. So I shall give you both.

The first beginning goes something like this: Once, long before you were born, long before your father was born, long before even I was born (and that is a very long time ago indeed as far as you are concerned!) there was a young woman. Through an interesting coincidence, this woman was born near where I grew up, actually, but when she was still young, some decades younger than I am now, she went away from that place to study magic. She went to the place that many people go to study magic: Spellgard, Lucinda's city.

As you know, there are not many places of formal instruction in the world, but the Tower, the School of Magic in Spellgard, is one of them. There is the library there, The Library of the Outer Mind, and it is one of the centers of the Lucindite faith. And so it is a good place for a woman to want to study magic, and most there believe that all magic is a gift from Lucinda and can be used for good or ill as any tool can. But not all think this way, and a woman who took a particular interest in the necromantic arts might be frowned upon by certain persons, and not all of the people who offered to teach her might be composed of the kind of sound moral character as you and I. And so it came to pass that though she was a good student and quick to learn, she chose unwisely when seeking a master, and when that master owed a favor to someone, he decided to pay by selling her into a slavery of sorts.

There are many forms of slavery, but I would argue that the one Laa'ra was forced to endure was one of the worst. She was sold to two vampires seeking an apprentice and turned against her will. For the next few centuries, she lived in darkness. And oh, there are many kinds of darkness, my dearest. Most obviously, what had been done to her made it impossible to walk in daylight and she was condemned to wander the nights and hunt, bound by ... I suppose you could think of it as a geis of sorts to the vampire who turned her. As I said, it is a form of slavery, and all slavery involves one person having power over another. There are other kinds of darkness too, though ... the darkness of the mortal heart, for one. Laa'ra learned of all of these types of darkness, as little by little what she was forced to endure and what she was ordered to do consumed the parts of her that had been the young elven woman who loved magic.



Jaelle pauses for a moment to sip some water from the glass by the bed and nibble on a piece of melon, judging his reaction to the story. After a moment, she continues.


The second beginning to this story happened some time--several centuries, actually--after the first. It involved another young woman, born some time after the young necromancer, and this woman also loved magic. She was walking in the square in Hempstead one day when she felt herself being watched. She looked around and saw no one, but couldn't shake the feeling that someone (or something) was following her movements. And just when she was about to call out, a beautiful young woman who looked to be about her age and who was wearing a heavy cloak appeared in front of her, by the fountain.

'Give me your hand,' the woman said. 'Why?' said our heroine, for she was not entirely foolish and was rather untrusting. "Because I want to give you a gift," the woman, who was of course Laa'ra, said. The other young woman knew better. She knew much better. And yet she was curious, and something about Laa'ra called to her. She looked lonely and sad and in need of help. And so, completely deliberately and of her own free will, she reached out and took Laa'ra's hand.

And Laa'ra reached into her through that connection, and changed her control of the Al'Noth.

She turned my magic wild.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #2 on: November 21, 2008, 11:57:38 am »
Jaelle's eyes go distant for a few moments as she enjoys another piece of cold fruit, clearly reliving the experience in her memories. Finally she pushes the fruit bowl out of the way so she can wrap her arms around Trouble. It takes a few moments to find a position in which they can be close, as the curve of her belly is now great enough to get in the way all too frequently. She traces his skin and kisses his neck for a moment before continuing.

I knew right away. Not what she had done, but that she had something. When you cast, you can feel magic too, I'm sure. And if I'm not mistaken, you can feel it through nature so that implies a degree of balance and control. Well, Laa'ra ripped my control from me.

It's strange, actually. There's a fine line between chaos and madness, like the edge of a very sharp knife. Chaos can be wonderful, like spontaneity and ignoring all the rules and doing exactly as you please. But madness ... when she turned my magic, I really thought I might go mad. I had no control over myself. Without any intention I was casting spells ... powerful magic I had no idea I could even work. She took my control but also my restraint and my limitations. I was channeling raw, beautiful, powerful magic. And I was in a square full of crowded people.

I asked her what she had done to me, but she wouldn't tell me. Just the same answer as before: "I have given you a gift." And then she was gone, and I was left with all that terrible power and potential, and no control. I was summoning things, and transforming myself, and I am not ashamed to say I was afraid at that moment. There were people there, faces I recognized, all pressing closer and closer into me like the walls of a room shrinking in on you until you cannot breathe, and all I could think of was that I was going to kill them all. That sooner or later I'd manage a death spell or a meteor or lightning storm, and all those people would die. So I yelled at them to go away even as the Al'Noth continued to pour through me. My fear and emotions only made it worse and the spells started to come faster, triggered by my anxiety.

And then Connor was there.


She looks at him, as if searching for or judging a reaction, her dark green eyes as frustratingly hard to read as usual.

Have I spoken of Connor? I cannot recall. Regardless, Connor is my teacher, and probably the only man I would have suffered to touch me just then. He took my hands and calmed me down and reached into me with the Al'Noth and he took out the part inside that was from Laa'ra, the part that was making it wild.

Do you know what abjuration magic is? Has your mother told you any of this? If a firestorm or an ice storm or a lightning bolt is like making ripples in a pond, then abjuration reaches out and dampens those ripples until there's nothing there but smooth water. If a spell twists the fabric of magic somehow, abjuration can reach in and untwist it, and set it right again. It's where protections against magic come from, and also disjunctions, which is the proper term for what he did for me. But proper terms aside, he took out the thing that Laa'ra had placed inside me, and in that instant I was once again in control.

In control, but very weak. I couldn't stand, and he had to catch me and set me on the ground. There were other people to care for me there, so Connor left and went after Laa'ra. Again, there were faces everywhere pressing in on me, peering at me in concern and asking whether I was alright, which obviously I wasn't. Eventually, one by one, they left and one man carried me, cradled in his arms like a child, to the inn to rest.


Soft kisses interrupt the story for a few moments as she collects her thoughts.

That might have been the end of it, had I never seen her again. Gods know I should have wished to never see her again after what she did to me, but I was curious. And perhaps our fates were interwoven. I still think she chose me that day, in a way. Or perhaps we chose each other when I reached out and took her hand. Regardless, after that I saw more of Laa'ra than I wanted to for a while, and she always brought trouble with her.

A soft laugh as she pulls him closer, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

Or perhaps that was why she was impossible for me to resist. It's no secret that I am drawn to trouble like a moth to a flame ...
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #3 on: November 21, 2008, 12:06:04 pm »
Jaelle leaves off her teasing and continues her tale, tracing patterns on his skin as she speaks.

After that first meeting, many things seemed out of my hands for a while. Although I didn't know where to find her, Laa'ra had no problem finding me, multiple times. She caught me in public places, and when I was with companions, and like a wolf hunting a lamb she cut me out from the rest of the herd, isolating me and trying to bend me to her will.

Of course by then I knew what she was, or I thought I did. Connor had written to me, and told me of his previous encounters with her, and of what she was. A vampiress, a huntress, an agent of House Darkspire of the vampires, or so we all believed then. There were strange things about her, though. She could walk in the light. She didn't seem to need to feed as the rest of her kind did. She was a mystery, and as much as she tormented me, her enigmatic nature also drove me mad. She offered me powerful gifts as temptation ... knowledge, power, increases in my own abilities with magic, an apprenticeship with her ... immortality. The offers were meant to be seductive and tempting, and they were, but what I wanted most of all was to know what she had planned for me and why she had chosen me.

Eventually, the story came out, in bits and pieces. The two vampires that had turned her had conspired to release a demon known as La'Forran, a powerful necromancer. La'Forran had been tied to the Corathite church but such was his evil and his danger and his utter unpredictability that even the Corathites were unable to control him and cast him out, lest he destroy them. They never intended to turn him over to the Aeridinites, but it was an inadvertent consequence of their actions. Three clerics of Aeridin slayed the demon, and his ashes were divided and contained within three urns which were kept separate and hidden away lest anyone ever try to raise him.

By the time I met Laa'ra, two of the urns had been recovered and she was searching for the third. It was frustratingly hard to find, but there was a group who had information on it. A group on which she wanted revenge, too, for killing her "sisters", the other two vampires.


She pauses to retrieve some more fruit, offering a piece to him. She doesn't smile or even seem to notice when he takes it though, so caught up is she in her thoughts and the narrative.

Strange to think, is it not, that we may come to love our own bondage? We may grow so accustomed to our chains and our captors that given enough time we actually feel affection for them. Or perhaps Laa'ra was merely so angry and lost in the darkness that any bloodlust was too tempting to resist. She took up the mantle of her so-called sisters after they were slain by this group and sought the third urn, and swore vengeance against the group known as the Council. And she made me her instrument.

Jaelle rolls over and stares up at the ceiling, her eyes distant and her expression pensive.

Did I have a choice? Oh yes, we always have choices. But every time she appeared and I did not do as she said, people died around me. Friends, companions, lovers. She set me the task of either retrieving the urn or at the least tracking down the names of the Council members responsible for the deaths of the other vampires. And that is where your uncle enters this story, my dear.

She turns back onto her side to study him, considering her words carefully.

Would you rather have me speak truthfully, or with tact? Because when it comes to your uncle I fear I cannot do both. He was foolish. He courted me, not knowing that my fate was already interwoven with Laa'ra's, and because he sought to impress me he let slip he was a member of the Council. And so because my life was at stake, and many other lives as well, I did a cold thing and let him pursue me. I am not proud of it, but nor do I apologize for who and what I am. I had no interest in him besides his connection to the Council, and the fact that Laa'ra was breathing down my neck for names, but nor was I about to die or let my friends be killed to spare his pride and tender feelings.

As I said, he was foolish. Be wary of women who seem to be victims, Trouble. Chivalry clouds the mind sometimes, and overpowers reason. Had he paused to consider even for an instant he would have known something was amiss. I had always scorned his advances in the past, but he was blind and arrogant enough not to suspect a thing when I suddenly changed my tune. And oh, how it galled me to do it. Young as you are, you're already twice the man he is when it comes to women, my dear. He treated me like a prized pet, telling me what to do and keeping me on a short leash. When people approached us to speak to me he would try and send them away sometimes and keep me to himself. He always had to hold my hand and stroke my hair whether I was in the mood or no, as if I were some pretty decoration he had bought himself. And oh how he bragged ... constantly, endlessly. He dragged me through his house, pointing out chests of mahogany and rubies and emerald dust, and tried to impress upon me how important and wealthy he was.


Her eyes are dark and unreadable and her expression is solemn as she speaks.

It was easy. Frighteningly easy to break through that wall of secrets, really. Far easier than it should have been, for one entrusted with knowledge as he was. He let one name slip, then another. He took me to their meeting place. It did not take me very long to learn exactly what Laa'ra wanted from them. It did not take me very long before I had every name of the Council etched into my mind like burning brands. Some of them he gave me, not realizing how much he betrayed, and some of them I learned from the people he brought me to when he sought to protect me. They wanted to lock me away to keep me safe, but I would sooner die than rot away in some cage out of fear. And yet even after I had the full roster and could have bought my freedom from Laa'ra's attentions with it, I delayed.

A soft sigh escapes her lips.

I delayed until I could delay no more, and I saw a notice in the square by the fountain from a mage seeking apprentices. Something about the tone, and what was asked ... something made me suspect. Call it intuition. I took down the poster and had a copy quietly made with the box number changed. Some poor Hempstead citizen got a box full of applications, and I ... I got a way to contact Laa'ra. I refused to let someone else fall into the trap she had ensnared me in, so I changed the notice. And I sent her a letter telling her I had the names for her.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #4 on: November 21, 2008, 12:12:41 pm »
Jaelle looks deep into Trouble's eyes, gaging his reaction. She runs a hand through her black hair and sigh softly, then finally speaks.

You will think what you will of me, I am certain, but I did not betray them. For all my sins, I did not give her the names. It was a web of lies and intrigue at that point, dearest, and we were all caught in it. Many believed she had enthralled me. Others believed I was working willingly for her, and still others that I was merely a victim and insensible to what I was doing. Some suspected she wanted the last urn so she could raise the demon and others thought she was going to compel me to kill the child of one of the women who had been involved in her sisters' deaths.

What your uncle thought, I'm not certain. At that point, there was too much going on. I didn't care what he thought of me, or how he felt. I had used his affections to protect myself and had deceived him in the process, and for that he will not forgive me. There were no tomatoes, not that it makes any difference. And sometime in that mess of lies and deceit and dangerous games he went away to meditate for a long time, and I barely noticed, except to be relieved I no longer had to play the role of the submissive, tame pretty decoration he had tried to make me into.


Despite her calm, a hint of bitterness seeps through as she speaks the words. It is fairly clear there's still bad blood between Jaelle and Trouble's uncle, and that she deeply resents how she feels he treated her during the facade of their relationship. She takes a deep breath and continues.

In the end I defied her, again and again, finding ways to delay giving her the names she wanted, and all the while they grew more suspicious of me. She came to me in the square under the guise of an Ilsaran cleric but it was well known I sympathized with the Storm Goddess, and they thought it odd that an Ilsaran would spend so much time converting me and were wary and watchful. And for my part, I tried to curtail her impulse to kill. So many times she spared the lives of people who walked by merely because I asked and it pleased her to indulge me. You see, that is the ironic part. She never hurt me. She hurt everyone around me, but never me. She indulged me because she saw too much of herself in me and was fond of me, and her affection made them even more suspicious.

Razeriem ... you met him, the blond one who rushes into battle like he has a death wish ... he's the one who changed things, I suppose. He came up one day when I was with her, wanting to talk to me. She whispered in my ear to get rid of him or he would die, but curse his stubbornness, he wouldn't go. And so she killed him, right there in the square, and all hell broke loose.

Our audience, who had been watching from a distance, were in an uproar and they came down on us like a lightning strike, trying to kill her and perhaps me as well. We both took grave wounds and they would have killed her and likely me, but she cast a death spell and killed them all ... dozens of people in the square, passerbys and those who attacked her alike. And then she threw off her cloak and I saw them for the first time: wings. Magnificent black wings like a raven, feathers as dark as jet. She picked me up, cradling me protectively in her arms. We were both bleeding and I was barely conscious at the time, and she took to the air and flew us away from the others, out past the walls of the city, out towards the sea.

When I came to my senses we were on the ground by the sea out beyond the city. We were still tangled together, as if she had lost the strength to bear us both any further and had suddenly crashed to the earth. There was blood everywhere, hers and mine, mingled together and indistinguishable. I hurt in most of the places it is possible to hurt, but she was even worse. I swear, I could have killed her then. She was so much more fragile than I had imagined. I could have held her down in her moment of weakness and slit her throat with my blade, but gods she looked so helpless there. Her wings were tattered, feathers sticking out the wrong way, and I could feel her shudder with pain as she stirred against me.


She continues to speak, but for a moment it seems she's forgotten he's even there. She tells her story, but she doesn't look at him so much as through him, clearly seeing the memory of something else.

I could have killed her then. Perhaps I should have, but I don't believe so. I took her into my arms instead and held her close, putting pressure on her wounds until they started to close. I held her as she had held me, and kept her from bleeding out, and while I held her life in my hand I couldn't hate her.

We learned many things about one another that night as we both tried very hard not to die. She realized that she had underestimated me, and I understood far more about the urns and her objectives than I had let on. And I learned that she was no longer truly a vampire. Something had happened to her when they killed her sire, the vampire that had bitten her, and she had begun to turn mortal again. No vampire would have been that fragile. She still had her magic to protect her, but much of the ... what's the word for vitality when you're undead? Much of her vampiric fortitude, perhaps, had faded when they killed Veira and Marilyn. In time I learned that had been the plan. She betrayed her vampire mentor and delivered her, bound and gagged, to the Council and her death. So many dark acts ... so many betrayals. And I still refused to give her the names.

I held her, my hands on her wounds and her blood covering my hands, until she was strong enough to fly away again. Before she went she gave me a time to meet her. There were no more meetings by the fountain, not after that day. After that we always met in secret.

I watched her take flight, awkward with her injuries but still beautiful. She skimmed over the waves and out towards the open ocean like a strange sea bird, lovely and exotic. I watched her until she was out of sight, and then I stared at the spot where she had vanished for a long time, her last words to me ringing in my ears. Those haunting words, what she had called me before she took flight: my love.

I had no idea what I was going to do.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #5 on: November 21, 2008, 12:19:31 pm »
Jaelle slips out of the bed again and removes an item sewn in to a secret pocket of her pack. When she slides in next to him in bed again, Trouble can see the item is a feather, jet black in colour. She smooths it between her fingers in the direction of the shaft, aligning the individual vanes, then hands it to him to look at.

That's hers, naturally. She gave it to me that night. Plucked it from her wings, as a sign of trust and devotion.


She hesitates, giving him an appraising look.


Do you know anything about scrying, dearest? Watching others and locating them through magic? It's a difficult art to practice, and belongs to the divination school of magic. There are a lot of subtleties to it, and the best technique for me seems to be scrying in a bowl of holy water sprinkled with diamond dust. That's the technique Connor taught me. It's easiest to do if you have a strong link with the person you're scrying on, but it's possible even if you don't, just more difficult. One thing that can make it easier is a scrying focus, though--a personal item, or something of them directly. For example, blood is sometimes used, or a lock of hair ...


She reaches over to play with his hair as she smiles, then gestures to the feather.


It really was a gift of trust. They'd used feathers from her wings to scry on her before. The Council had three that they'd pulled out in battle. One was destroyed in the first scrying attempt on her (I forgot to mention that, didn't I? It's not true of personal items, but organic components are usually consumed in the scrying process). Another was burned in a brazier ... another chapter of the story I shall come to. And the last of the three is also in my possession now. But that one ...


She gently takes the feather from his hands, running her fingers over it again.


This one was the only one given freely.

She sets the feather on the table by the bed, mindful of its presence. Later, after the story is finished, it disappears back into her pack. She looks pensive for a moment, considering something.


Perhaps that is why I helped her. I am not sure. Gods, they tortured me for it, though. When I finally had the strength to climb the rope over the city walls again and slump down on a bench, the square was still in an uproar, hours later. The dead that could be raised had been, and the others taken away. Someone had counted the bodies and figured out I was missing, and they were brewing for a witch hunt ... for her or me, I am still not certain.

Finally one of them, a mage named Timulty, noticed me by the fountain, trying to gather my strength enough to at least make it to an inn, and led me over. I imagine I was a sight, still wounded and covered in blood from the battle. And oh, they were relieved to see me, but they also poked and prodded me, tried to examine me for bite marks, pressed silver rings into my skin to see whether she had turned me. And all the while, my mind was spinning with what I had learned. Turned me ... I could have laughed! Of all of them, I was the only one who realized that was no longer possible.

The crush of people was unbearable. I'm ... not good with crowds, my sweet. You may have noticed. The more people there are, the quieter I often get. It's because I grew up alone, away from people, with only my mother and father, and then no one at all for many years after they died. So to suddenly be the object of all that attention ...


She shudders in remembrance.


There was a fellow I was seeing at the time ... his name was Brian. I let him deflect the worst of it. He, too, liked to play at protecting me. Connor was the only one I really spoke to afterwards, other than Brian. I trusted Connor, moreso than Brian certainly. Brian wanted to kill her, and thought I was allowing myself to be used to get close enough to her to bring her down. My motivations were never that clear though, not even to myself. I think I would have done it though, if she had tried to raise the demon then. Or at least I would have tried.


She pauses to gather her thoughts, smiling ruefully, and kisses him, light and sweet.


It's hard to tell stories, is it not? Especially long, complicated ones in which there are many twisting threads woven together to make the greater pattern. I suppose the important part is that Brian saw the feather, and didn't understand my objection to giving it to him so the Council could try and scry on her. He thought I was enthralled or dominated, but I wasn't. I was protecting her, though.

She and I met several times in secret after that fateful meeting in the square, and bless the gods, no one else died when we did. We chose other places, out of the way, and she kept her wings covered again. And little by little, things changed between us. I learned her story, that first beginning I told you, and more than that too. It is far harder to hate someone when you see them not as your enemy but as who they are. I looked at her soul and I saw the fault lines, and the parts of it that were dark and ugly, but I knew why they were there, and I dared to hope that she could be healed.

I continued to fight her, and she continued to pressure me for the names and the location of the third urn. At times I almost wanted to give them to her, just to have done with the threats and the fear, but I am uncommonly stubborn and I just couldn't do it. She told me what she was going to do to them. Save one, the woman with the child, she planned to torture and kill them. There was a blood lust in her that cried out for vengeance, but more out of loneliness and hatred than any pure evil, I believe. I wasn't certain I could keep the names from her forever, or that she wouldn't learn them from someone else, so I exacted an oath from her that if she ever took vengeance on them she'd make it clean and swift, no torture. She agreed. I think she meant it.


A slight pause. She runs her hands over him, cuddling closer and laying her head on his shoulder.


When I think of it, sometimes it is almost like a dream. Parts of it happened so quickly. She sought vengeance on the dwarf who had wounded her so grievously in the square--Skullcracker Headbang. She laid siege to Ulgrid's Fortress itself.


A soft sigh.


I knew, of course. I knew that she was going to do it. She was impossible to dissuade, so I let her go. She kept her word to me, though ... the promise I made her swear. You may recall hearing about the siege. No innocent women or children were killed during it, only warriors who opposed her undead. That was what she swore for me, and she kept her oath. She never lied to me, and never betrayed me. And while she was gone, I knew the Council was safe. For a while, at least.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #6 on: November 21, 2008, 12:27:12 pm »
Jaelle lies quietly pressed against him for a few minutes, perhaps considering the blood prices paid or something else. Finally, when she's ready she resumes her story.

She kept watch over me while she was away, naturally. She was very protective of me. I was part daughter, part friend, part slave and part prized pupil. A stunningly complicated relationship. I don't even know who it was, not even now ... who did the actual watching. One of her undead servants perhaps. All I know is that one day when I was working in the Hall of Magic someone touched my shoulder and a male voice spoke in my ear and a letter was pressed into my hand. I almost died of shock but he was gone again before I could even scream. I never saw anyone.

If I was shocked to realize I was being watched--and really, I shouldn't have been, but I didn't think of it--what I read in her letter shocked me further. She forswore vengeance against the Council. I suppose in part venting her anger on the dwarves of Ulgrid's was enough, but I swear it was more than that. So many times we had fought about it. It was hard, bloody hard, to oppose her, but when she finally forswore vengeance she claimed it was because of the things I had said to her when I sued for peace. And as always, she wrote of her love for me in the letter.

I didn't know what I thought of her then. Love? She was a dangerous and confusing enemy. A thorn in my side, who wanted to raise one of the worse demons I had never read about, and almost had the means to do it. A necromancer who continually killed and hurt and threatened those close to me. And yet I was drawn to her, inexplicably and undeniably, just as on that first day. Moth to a flame, and I thought she would consume me like fire.

I had no idea what to do, so I turned to Spellgard for aid, and to a sorcerer I trusted very much with strong connections to the city. I told him the truth, or most of it, and he agreed to help me. Vampirism is little different than a disease, when you consider it in that light, and we hoped to find a cure for her. I was not sure she wished to be cured, but I wanted her to have the option to be free of it. I wanted, too, to see what she looked like when all the taint of the vampires was stripped from her. I was afraid that after the evil of her cursed condition was stripped away I would still look at her and see evil, but it was worth the risk. I had to know.


A faint smile in remembrance.


It looked so promising. I had my ally in Spellgard researching vampirism and a potential cure for her ... she had turned back part way on her own after her sire was killed, but she was trapped in limbo between undead and living, you see. I'd explain it better if I could, but even after months and months of research and reading and discussing it, I still don't fully understand. There isn't much precedent, you see. Much of the time the lesser vampires are killed but the sire persists, or an entire nest is "exterminated" at once, so we have very little to go on with regards to what happens when you kill the sire first. And from what I understand of it, even in those cases the results can vary. Laa'ra's case was unusual in that the transition persisted so long.

It looked promising. It really did. Laa'ra was in the Brechs, locked in a siege with the dwarves, who were giving her undead quite the run for their money. She was distracted, a cure was being sought, and the Council was safe. For the first time in months, I dared to hope. And then while I was searching the Spellgard archives, doing research on the cure and vampirism, everything changed in an instant.

War. Word of it ripped through the Spellgard streets like wildfire. War in the Boyer kingdom ... a long way from Spellgard, save for the portal that connects Spellgard and North Point. I prayed Laa'ra would remain busy in the Brechs and my ally would continue to work on the cure, and I left Mistone for Dregar, traveling south from North Point to Dalanthar and the foot of the Peaks. How could I not? What was happening there with Essrantor was far greater than Laa'ra's illness, or even her vengeance. The third urn was protected, and in truth there was little I could do. So I left, and I was gone for months.


Lying in his arms, staring at the ceiling of her room, she glances over at him and smiles.


One story often weaves seamlessly into another, but I'm certain you've heard some of the tales of Essrantor's Veil and the Boyer war already. Was your father there? I can't recall ... not with me at least. When I arrived, a group had already left for the Peaks and another to do god knows what somewhere else. But it is not always the great hero that tips the scale of a war. Sometimes it is the small, humble acts that go unsung that make a difference. In Huangjin I heard a wise woman say once that a single grain of rice can tip the scales. Perhaps that is what I was trying to do ... tip the scales. Or just be one more grain of rice that opposed the giants.


She reaches out for him and pulls him into a hug, then releases him with a sigh.


Remind me to tell you those stories another night ... maybe the next time we steal away here, after the child is born. They're good stories. I think I made a difference there. I went up the Peaks with a few others and rescued a clan of giants frozen in stone for centuries who went to war for us. I bargained with a half-drake half-wyvern who lived in the ice of the Peaks, and secured the aid of a silver dragon spirit. I stood with the others to hold the pass, and when the time came I called down the dragon spirit who aided us, and then flew up to help the others ... but as I said, stories for another day. And besides, after this it will be your turn.

But where was I? Oh yes ... the war. We fought for weeks, months even ... and when it was over, I returned to Mistone, and I went looking for Laa'ra ...
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #7 on: November 21, 2008, 12:32:13 pm »
She was in the Brechs. Though I did not see her with my own eyes, I knew it with a certainty I'd be hard pressed to explain.

Jaelle pauses again, trailing kisses over him as she considers how to phrase the odd sensation she's trying to describe.

I suppose ... it is what I imagine having a twin would feel like. A curious bond between the two of us, intangible and difficult to describe, but very present. I couldn't follow it, but I knew she was close. And I expect she knew I was close as well. I am still not sure what the cause of it was, but I suspect it was her doing, and something from her magic--she wanted me to feel her presence and to know she was near me.

I stopped in Brenuth and spent an evening drinking in a tavern. Everyone was talking of the siege. When I learned she'd let the women and children go freely, I could have wept with relief that she'd kept her oath. I began to think she might really care for me as she claimed. Finally I turned back towards Vehl, making my way out of the mountains. The only other thing of note was that I saw a raven and it reminded me of her.


Her mouth curls up into a smile.

I didn't know then that her familiar was a raven. I suppose I should have guessed, hmm? I think I suspected it. Even then, she was watching me.

Back in Port Hempstead it was still a brewing witch hunt, or more accurately vampire hunt. They'd linked the necromancer in the Brechs who the vampire who had spirited me away, and I got no end of abuse from people pestering me for information. One dwarf even wanted me to lead some kind of holy crusade to lop off her head. I got through by pretending to be afraid of Laa'ra, arguing that she was far too strong to oppose. I told no one except my Spellgard ally that she was no longer a vampire. As much as they hated and hunted her for bearing that title, it also protected her to an extent. Thinking she was still a powerful undead, they were less likely to take hasty action.

Mostly, it was just waiting. Waiting for news of her condition. Waiting to hear whether there was anyone who could offer her help. Waiting for her to find me again. Eventually, she did.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #8 on: November 21, 2008, 12:36:14 pm »
I was in Moraken's tower, mixing inks for scribing. I felt myself being watched, and before I even turned I knew it was her. It was almost a relief to see her again. I hadn't realized how much I'd been ... holding my breath, I suppose, waiting for her to find me. It was terrifying and exciting and thrilling, and most of all terribly, terribly confusing to be close to her. There was a bond forming between us, whether we acknowledged it or not.

She stops to retrieve the forgotten bowl of cut fruit again, cooling it with magic. While she collects her thoughts she nibbles slices of papaya, tastes a lychee, samples another piece of desert fruit she can't recall the name for ... and she offers them to Trouble too, feeding him slivers of icy-cold melon. She laughs softly, her green eyes shining in the candlelight, her pale skin aglow, making a game out of it, slowly discovering his preferences. Finally she grows serious again, and speaks.

Her offer was this: them for me. That's what it comes down to. She agreed to forswear all vengeance on the Council and to stop seeking the third urn of La'Forran, the last one needed to raise the demon, on one condition--that I go away. with her.

She wanted to steal me away, and take me to some far away, isolated place where we could study magic together in peace while her need for vengeance and revenge faded. And she wanted to make me just like her. That was what she said. I was not entirely certain what it meant, but I could guess and I didn't like it. When I resisted she grew angry with me, and for a moment I was afraid. She told me to think carefully on my choice and to tie up any loose ends I had, because she would come for me in a few days or a week or two when all the arrangements were made. By the time she left, my heart was racing and I was a little breathless.

How do you weigh the value of your life against the value of the lives of others? How many would have to die before you'd trade your own freedom away, and give up all the ties you'd made to the world, all the friends and lovers you'd sought solace in? One? A dozen? A hundred? A thousand?

I thought on that for a long time after she left, my inks forgotten. In truth, I dwelt on it for days as I made my arrangements, just in case. In the end I decided to go with her. I cannot fully explain my choice, except that the cost was too high and hard to calculate. I couldn't say with certainty how many would die if she continued to search for the third urn and succeeded in raising the demon, and I couldn't quantify how she'd make the Council suffer if I disobeyed her. She tortured someone on my behalf once. He'd wronged me and hurt me rather severely, and she came down on him like a dark angel, and made him pay for his crimes in full. I knew she could hurt people if she chose to.

Or maybe ... or maybe part of me thought it would not be so bad. Certainly, I would learn from her. She was powerful, and she was offering me power as well. It was tempting. And there was certainly friendship between us, as odd as that sounds. So I said my goodbyes. I didn't tell them where I was going, nor with whom. I told them I was going away to study magic ... that an opportunity had arisen for me to study with a powerful teacher and I had decided to accept. It was the truth, or a version of it. Two or three of my lovers knew or guessed the truth, or that something was amiss. I remember, because it struck me as odd how they'd turn the world and the Pits and all the realms upside down to get to me if I needed aid. Perhaps that is why I wasn't as scared as I should have been. I knew with certainty that, did I call out for help, they would respond with a fury. I just hoped she wouldn't take me so far away I wouldn't be able to send word.

I said all my goodbyes, and tied up my loose ends. I told none of them the truth of why I was doing it. They would have tried to stop me. Brian was beside himself with anger and grief, barely speaking to me during that time. Laa'ra was the wedge that drove us apart, I think. Looking back, I see that now. Eventually, there was nothing left to do. I couldn't go far, because I knew she would come for me soon, and everything was packed away. I had no idea how long I was going to be gone.

All there was left to do was wait. So I waited.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #9 on: November 21, 2008, 12:42:37 pm »
The waiting was the worst part, by far. Worse than the goodbyes, worse than not knowing what was going to happen, worse even than the looks I still got from other people as I walked through Hempstead. There were so many whispers, so many rumors ... and all I could think of was that Laa'ra was coming for me, soon. Soon.

She never came.


Her eyes are distant with the memory, and her voice is soft.

In the end, it was her familiar who came to me. The raven brought me a letter. And that letter changed everything.

She closes her eyes and recites the letter as if from memory, as if each word hand been branded into her mind.



Dearest Jaelle,

It is with heavy heart that I write you this letter. I know in my heart that we could never truly be friends. I am leaving, but I am saddened to say it will not be with you. I shall return to my homeland where I may rest for a very long time.

Something terrible is happening to me and my being. I am beginning to feel the rapid effects of aging and fear my time shall not be much longer on this plane.

I know it means little to you or those you care about, but there are some things I am truly sorry for doing when I could have done much more good. One says that evil is not born but rather it is raised. In some ways I cannot disagree, and in others I can. I was once like you, and in our talks together, I have realized that I could never wish what I have become upon you.

You have many things to experience here, and a wonderful life to lead. My final gift to you is three-fold. In bank vault 342 in Port Hempstead you shall find the gifts. You are charged with the following and final tasks:

Turn over the first gift, the first urn of La'Forran, to the church of Aeridin.

Turn over the second gift, the second urn of La'Forran, to the church of Toran.

Ensure their destruction in the deepest fires and pits of hells.

The final gift is for you. May you cherish it as I always have, close to my heart.

My love,
Laa'ra Evvanicc'ia




There is a very long pause at this point. Jaelle is silent for more than a minute, remembering her own reaction to the letter and the events that followed it. While she reflects on it and gathers her thoughs, she keeps her arms around him, holding him lightly. Eventually, she speaks again.

The ending of the story is perhaps a little anticlimactic when compared to that shattering revelation. I cried when I read the letter. I went to Port Hempstead, and retrieved the urns. They were exactly where she said they were, in a bank vault opened under an assumed name, along with her final gift to me. I moped around Hempstead for a day, then sailed home to Leringard, where I got very drunk and wrote Laa'ra a very tragic and emotional letter about not having to die alone.

Even then, I had to be certain before I acted so I confided part of the story in the Aeridinite ... the woman with the child they all thought I would kill. Together, we took the urns to Aeridin's church to be authenticated. When the Aeridinites confirmed they were genuine the woman cried. That's when I came to possess the second of Laa'ra's feathers--she gave it to me, reckoning it was better in my hands now that Laa'ra was redeemed, as she put it. We left the first urn there, with the Aeridinites, and took the second against their wishes to the Toranites. It was mostly to honour her wishes, as the Toranites turn around and handed it back to the Aeridinites a few weeks later. As it turned out, they all had to be together to be destroyed, through a very different ritual than summoning the demon. It was why no one had been able to destroy the individual urns.

Of course, only Elohanna and I knew what Laa'ra had done, and Shiff called a meeting to talk about Laa'ra. I have a feeling that if Elohanna and I hadn't been there it would have become another witch hunt. As it was, those in attendance were baffled by Shiff's lack of initiative. Why call a meeting, then plead with everyone to leave the vampire alone? Not everyone agreed, of course. A paladin of Toran, an Undead Slayer by the name of Anne Ravenwind, was one of those who disagreed, most vehemently, that Laa'ra should be left to her own devices. That [several elven expletives] interfering Toranite [more expletives, surprisingly colourful and heartfelt] caused more trouble than I'd ever imagined, but not that day. That day she stormed out of the meeting before I ever cast aside the illusion that I was nothing more than an old woman. She wasn't there when I convinced them to burn the last remaining feather, nor when I explained that Laa'ra had returned the urns and wished nothing more than to be left alone.

Surprisingly, almost everyone agreed to cease pursuit of her. There was no reason to, logically. An Aeridinite in attendance confirmed that it was impossible for her to be considered a vampire any more, as she was far more mortal than undead by then. Her thirst for vengeance was quenched, and her desire to resurrect La'Forran was abolished, and most importantly of all she had returned the urns. They agreed to leave her alone.

I did not tell them she was dying, or that her act of redemption may have been her last. Nor did I ever explain to them why she did it. Let all but a select few remain puzzled as to why the vampire had such a drastic change of heart. None of them need know that it was not an army that took her down, nor a group of powerful mages, nor undead slayers, nor even a single warrior. It was not even all my devious plotting and careful manipulations in the end, but something far simpler: friendship.


She trails soft kisses up his neck, then gently turns his head toward her to kiss him on the lips.

And that is the end, my dearest ... the story of how two evil artifacts were recovered and destroyed, how catastrophe was averted, and how an almost-vampire was redeemed not through war or fighting or cunning, but merely through a generous amount of luck ... and a single act of love.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #10 on: November 21, 2008, 01:40:35 pm »
Epilogue

***

The man had been very quiet as he listened to the tale, only occasionally interjecting some small comment or sound of surprise, or murmured encouragement. Perhaps he had been afraid that had he interrupted her she would have stopped telling the tale he had waited for so long.

Now, though, the room has fallen silent again and the little elven woman seems disinclined to continue. Trouble turns on his side to face his partner, brushing absently at the stray locks of hair on her face. He looks at her, as if seeing her in a new light. There's a smile on his own face, but it appears sad.


So ... you were really intending on going with her? And ... all that ... just to save the people ... the umm ... Council?

In honesty, I dont think I would have given up the names of the Council or ... anything but ... I certainly wouldn't have handed myself over either.



He leans forward and slowly starts kissing her neck, murmuring as he does so.


And it's always sad stories you have dearest ... always so sad.

And so ... you never saw her again? That was the end of it?
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #11 on: November 21, 2008, 01:48:17 pm »
She sighs softly at his sad smile but acquiesces and speaks again.

Yes, I would have gone with her. For all her sins, she had never hurt me directly. I didn't think she would. She was lonely ... she wanted companionship, and someone to share the quiet moments with. She wanted a sister or a friend, or perhaps a daughter. A student, a colleague ... not a slave or a thrall.

I would have gone with her not just for the Council, but to prevent her seeking and finding the last urn. La'Forran, had he been raised, could have caused pain and suffering like you have never known. More than that, though, I would have gone with her because by that time I had come to love her a little.


She makes a quiet sound indicating enjoyment as he kisses her neck, then props her head up on a pillow to look at him.

Does that ending not satisfy you, my sweet? You would have wished for a happier end for the vampire?

She regards him for a moment, as if appraising him or evaluating her own trust in him, then sighs again.

It should have ended there, truth be told. I'm sure it would have, if I weren't so damnably stubborn. But like I said, I loved her a little by then, and damned if I was going to let her die like that.

She smirks slightly, remembering.

Oh yes ... I decided like hell was I going to let her die like that, after everything. And with good timing, my friend in Spellgard told me he thought he knew someone who might be able to help ... but they needed a vial of her blood to even figure out whether or not they could help her. Only problem being that she hadn't exactly told me where she was going, had she?

And yet I had the feathers, and a strong bond with her, and I had this ...


She shows him a beautiful amulet of delicate elven craftsmanship. The amulet is platinum and gold, set with a very large and exceptionally fine alexandrite. The amulet looks old ... very old, and worn, though it was clearly loved and treated with care. The platinum around the alexandrite is worked into a fine mesh lace cleverly done to resemble a web with small golden spiders worked around it as well. Below the alexandrite are two rubies set like eyes. It's an unusual piece, but very beautiful and of exceptional quality. When Jaelle turns it, the name etched on the back of the amulet, behind the largest of the gem mountings, is visible: Laa'ra.

Her amulet. Her final gift to me, to keep close to my heart. I had everything I needed to scry on her except the skill to do so, so while I made arrangements to book passage to Alindor and to her hometown to search, I learned everything about scrying I could. I practiced until I dropped from exhaustion and my head throbbed, and then I got back up and did it again. My teacher was relentless, and I hated it for him then but thanked him for it later.

She winces at the memories, one hand involuntarily going to her head, then laughs.

And I never needed it.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #12 on: November 21, 2008, 01:55:31 pm »
Sometimes we rely too much on our magic and forget the other avenues available to us. I will not tell you how I found her, but I promise you it didn't involve a shred of magic--only cunning, persistence and luck. Find her I did, though. My heart was beating so fast it nearly hummed the first time I crossed her threshold. She was older and much changed, but underneath it all she was still my Laa'ra ...

The bond between us had not dissolved. If anything, it had strengthened, and though she hated Spellgard and the Lucindans she gave me a sample for them. I watched as she cut her arm with a blade and held the vial for her and caught the drops. I bore it to Spellgard, too, and hoped that something good would come of it.

I visited her several times while we waited for test results. Each time I was afraid I'd walk in and find an old woman I did not recognize, but after the initial burst of aging her disease seemed to slow. We were told that it would progress less rapidly if she were kept calm, so that's what I aimed to do. We got along surprisingly well, though I was careful not to wear out my welcome.

The first nights I visited, she put me up in a small guest room. I think she must have drugged my tea, for I rested soundly each night and was not sensible to whether anyone came or went, or whether Laa'ra herself stayed within the house each night. It occurred to me to wonder if she were hunting again, but in the end I pushed the fear aside. On later visits, it seems I was right, for I slept with her and knew she was not leaving.


She catches his reaction and makes a face, stopping him.

No, no ... not slept like that. There was a strange bond, a strange attraction I couldn't put a name to at the time, but it was not like this. We slept together, she and I, really rested together, like two sisters. And I think you know there is an intimacy to that too, to letting your guard down with another person and shutting your eyes and turning your back.

A lot of time passed. Enough that she grew restless, and left her homeland, and returned to Mistone. I nearly had an apoplexy the first day I saw her back in the city. I was so afraid they would all recognize her, and that the paladin who was hunting her (the very same Anne Ravenwind of the meeting in Llast) would kill her before I could save her. I don't know why I needed to save her so badly. I think ... I think I looked at her and saw too much of myself in her to walk away.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #13 on: November 21, 2008, 01:59:05 pm »
Finally word came from my colleague in Spellgard. They had analyzed the blood, and while most of it (around nine tenths, say), was no different than the blood that runs in my veins, a tenth of it was strange ... and that percentage was growing. But they told me they could not offer her aid unless they also had a more recent tissue and bone sample, to test the cure on or some such business. By that time I had read everything on vampires I possibly could, and still I did not know enough to save her.

Her mouth quirks up in a wry grin as she speaks.

She had to come to Spellgard for the "operation". And to be put unconscious with the use of certain alchemical herbs and potions, to spare her pain and trauma while they took a chip of bone. I expect you can imagine how well she liked that idea. I liked it little better, and part of me was all for chopping off a finger or toe and sending it to them in a box, then seeking a cleric and a good divine regeneration spell. (Regeneration magic, if you've never lost a body part, hurts like all hells but works like a charm. I had to regrow something years ago, and nearly fainted from the pain, but now I'm perfectly fine.)

Well, eventually I managed to convince her to go with me. She did it because she loved me and trusted me, and knowing she had placed her life in my hands ... that was a heavy burden. At the time, I thought it was just the weight of that responsibility that had me jumping at shadows. And yet I had a bad feeling, like you get when your skin prickles and the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. Leading her into that place, I had the powerful feeling that all was not right.


She places a soft kiss on his shoulder and runs her hands up and down his back before continuing. When she speaks again, her tone is almost rueful.

Trust your instincts, Trouble. They're there for a reason. I should have listened to mine. I almost lost her that day. The surgeon permitted me to be with her when we flatly refused the affair otherwise, but made my colleague stand outside. I had a bad feeling then, especially when they locked and barred the door, but she was already nervous and I tried to hide it from her. They put her to sleep in that way that would allow them to proceed and then ...

She furrows her brow, running the memory over in her mind.

I do not remember exactly what it was. I knew something was wrong. The surgeon made some comment, or something about what he was doing. It all happened so fast that I can barely recall it. One moment I was at Laa'ra's side, holding her hand as she lay there, unconscious, and the next I was being seized by two guards and the surgeon was ordering them to escort me away.

Another wry smile.

My first impulse was to start throwing fire at anyone who tried to touch me or get in my way, but I knew I couldn't take them all on my own, so I threw sound magic at the heavy door, and made it ring like a gong. I managed a good hold spell on the surgeon too ... before the guards grabbed my arms and immobilized me beyond casting.

She smirks, her mouth hardening a little, and a glint coming into her eyes for a moment.

Well ... almost beyond casting. You don't have to move your hands to blind and deafen people, you know. Didn't stop them holding onto me and giving me a good jab in the kidneys, but it stopped them doing anything else or dragging me out. And it felt bloody good, too. I think I would have done more if I could.

And then my tutor was there. I never saw precisely how he got inside, but he was there and from that moment on I had every faith that it would be alright. I still wanted to burn the surgeon down to ashes for trying to hurt her (he had been going to lock her away and use her as an experiment, just keeping her barely alive for his research), and at that point I was actually glad the guards were still holding my arms and preventing me from doing anything. But I had faith it would be alright from the moment he entered the room, and it was. He made it alright.

In the end, the surgeon performed the surgery after all, and took the samples we needed. I was at her side, watching him like a hawk. He was not well pleased that his plans had been foiled, but with both my colleague and I standing over him and the guards dismissed there was little he could do. We made certain he was gone by the time she stirred and awoke. She looked up at me, vulnerable, and asked me how it had went ... and I told her everything had gone fine. I lied to her, and I have never told her the truth of it. Her distrust for Spellgard and the Lucindans is great enough already, and the man did not represent Lucinda's faith or the interests of Spellgard as a whole.

Still, I took her from that place in a hurry after I was done. I stayed with her while she recuperated ... a week at most before I left her. And then again we waited, but not as long this time, for word soon came that the little scientist (not the surgeon, the first one that had helped us) had an experimental cure. We took every precaution, but there was still an incredible risk. There was simply no way to know whether it would help her or not, and there was no way to test it further. I told her every risk, and never lied to her. She wanted me to make the choice for her, but I refused. Eventually, after hearing all the risks, she decided it was worth the gamble and we made the arrangements.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #14 on: November 21, 2008, 02:06:32 pm »
The tall candles in the room have burned low, their wicks sputtering in puddles of hot, melted wax. Their flickering glow and the starlight and faint moonlight shining through the window gives Jaelle's pale skin a strange, ethereal glow to it. The contrast with her raven-dark hair is striking. Trouble, anxious to hear the end, half-sits up. He shifts right behind Jaelle and encircles her in his arms, his head leaning over her shoulder to hear her words clearly.

And? Did it work??

His lover smiles indulgently at his impatience. Her soft, sweet voice continues on, unperturbed, murmuring the last of the tale as she leans back against him, one hand resting on her rounded stomach and the swell of her pregnancy.

She took the cure in Haven. After the altercation in Spellgard we thought it best to do it on our own terms this time, away from any strangers, so we found a quiet place for her to take it. We weren't certain it would work, or what the effects would be if it did. The scientist who made it fell gravely ill just then. I was the one who chose the city. I hoped the name would prove appropriately fitting.

I came to that place knowing she might die. We all knew she might die, her most of all. I was with child by then ... I'd hidden it from her up until that point. I didn't want to give her anything else to worry about, not the way she doted on me like a mother. But I was too far along by that point to hide it. I remember sensing she wasn't entirely pleased, but she accepted it. We had to. There were more important things to do. I remember wondering if I would name the child for her if it was a girl and she died from our cure, and then pushing the thought from my mind.

I remember standing beside her as she held the vial in her hand. I tried to burn those moments into my mind like a hot brand, afraid they would be the last moments I'd ever have with her. She thanked us for our help, and she asked me to watch over a woman she had hurt while she was still a vampire, and make sure she wanted for nothing. She wanted to do penance of some sort, but she knew she might be out of time.

We rarely approach our deaths knowing what we face, or with clarity. She faced death, knowing her words might be her last. What is better, the surety of a slow death or the risk of a quick one, balanced against the possibility of a full life? Hope is a powerful force, dear one. Laa'ra hoped. She toasted the future, and risked everything for the possibility of a real chance at life.

She's still in his arms a moment, as if deciding whether to share some detail. Finally, she whispers:

The last thing she said to me was that she loved me like a daughter. Then she tilted the vial up and drank it down to the last drop. For a moment, everything was still ... and then her eyes rolled back in her head and she collapsed.

It was the strangest thing, dearest ... it was as if time stood still for me for a moment. I saw the vial slip from her fingers as her eyes rolled back, and heard the glass shattering on the floor as I felt myself moving forward, possessed by instinct. I caught her as she fell, and cradled her head as I lowered her gently to the ground. For a moment I thought she was dead, but then I felt the heartbeat, faint and weak and too fast. And her skin ... her skin was burning.

Have you ever had a bad fever, Trouble? As a child maybe? I am willing to bet her skin burned hotter than the hottest fever you've ever had as her body started to battle. The cure fought the taint of the vampirism that remained in her blood, I think. It is the only way to explain it that I can think of, the way her body seemed to suddenly become a battleground. We tried frantically to cool her with cloths dipped in icy water, wiping her brow and trying to chill her, but nothing worked. I knew that if she remained like that for more than a short while it wouldn't matter if she lived or died ... the fire of the fever would have damaged her mind.

Finally we filled a bath with icy water, and carried her to it. I cradled her head, keeping her nose and mouth out of the water as I wiped her brow with more cool cloths. Slowly, slowly, her fever diminished. And then she opened her eyes and looked up at me, and once again I dared to hope she would be alright.
 

Carillon

Re: A Tale of Vampires
« Reply #15 on: November 21, 2008, 02:10:22 pm »
In the end, I got two miracles with Laa'ra. The first had been the love that had softened her heart, and the change that had overcome her and made her repent and grieve for the harm she had done. Her friendship with me, her choice to return the urns and forswear vengeance, the bond that formed between us ... that was my first miracle.

I had not really hoped for a second miracle, not really. Mostly, it was just that I'd been too stubborn to give up and let her die. Sometimes stubbornness is all it takes, though--an iron will that refuses to submit to the odds. Perseverance in the face of adversity. Rebellion ... fighting to your dying breath ... those were Mist's teachings, actually. I always had those qualities, but my faith sharpened them, and honed them to a keen edge. Or maybe I was just really bloody lucky. Whatever the reason, I got my second miracle: she lived.


She moves in his arms, settling deeper into the embrace. It is late now, and the inn has grown quiet. There's little sound, save a gentle breeze rustling through the desert trees outside. Her green eyes smile at him, the dying candlelight picking up the hidden flecks of gold swirling in each iris. Her fingers move in slow, gentle motions on his back, tracing patterns on his warm skin. She's relaxed in his presence, lulled by their intimacy and the late hour, her breaths slow and rhythmic. Her heartbeats are strong and steady against his skin.

I know ... you will want to know the very end. But that I cannot tell you, dearest, for the story is still being written and they are still hunting her, even though she is now free of the vampirism.

What I can tell you is that she lived. She slipped in and out of consciousness for a full week, burning up with fever, but it wasn't the same raging heat as before, and we knew she would be alright. My friend who had helped me came to visit me every day he could, bringing food and books. I cared for her, and I read. It was quiet, but I have known far lonelier times. And she mended, slowly. Her body won the fight, and the cure worked, and she healed. The last of the vampirism faded from her, and what remained was what I had seen that night we almost died and she flew me away and I held her and kept her from bleeding out: I saw a woman who had loved magic, and who had been betrayed and hurt, but was not beyond hope.


She smiles as she moves her head to kiss his neck, and murmurs as she does.

She now lives on the outskirts of a city that I visit frequently. I visit her at least a few times a month, or as often as I can. I stay for days at a time sometimes, or others just for an afternoon. She is learning to live in the world easily again, and she still has to deal with the regrets of her past. She dotes on me like a mother, and is fiercely protective of me, as I am of her. Somewhere along the way, we forged a bond as strong as mithril.

Another gentle kiss ...

Now tell me, dearest ... does that ending please you better? Catastrophe averted, a vampire redeemed by love, and a woman saved--and while I cannot promise that she will live happily ever after ... for me it is miracle enough that she lived.


The End