Chapter 2: Foreshadowing

There are a great many differences between the lives of man and the lives
we live, none more different than our births.  For one, a vampire can be
born after many years of having already lived.  And most importantly, a
person must first die to be born again a vampire.  This process of dying
and then turning is not as simple as that though.  It can take days or even
weeks for a person to die after being bitten by a vampire.  The very moment
a vampire bites you with the intention of turning you, your body begins to
change. The blood of a sire, the vampire who bites you normally, is needed
to complete the process, without this ingredient you are but a twisted and
dying corpse. The dark gift, the immortal kiss, or any other name given to
it, always ends in death. But before that, your body begins to change.

Vampires don't eat food, not like humans do, and though we can consume
small amounts of food, our digestive systems are dead and can't handle
normal amounts of food.  Our entire bodies are dead, in fact, and it's only
when you find yourself in a dead body that you realize how alive you were.
When your lungs collapse, you miss that rhythm you never realized that your
body seemed to have.  That subtle rise and fall of your chest and the way
you could feel your heart beat all over your body in those quiet and calm
moments.  You even begin to miss those occasional aches and pains that
seemed to spring up for seemingly no reason at all.

      Among the most apparent differences is warmth. To the touch, a
vampire is cold for the most part, not icy or as cold as a corpse but
noticeably colder than is normal for a person.  It's not a chill that we
feel mind you, it's as normal to us as 98.6 is to a human.  And in fact the
only times that vampires are truly warm is when the sun is going down and
when they feed.  In spite of these differences, one may not realize that a
vampire is in fact a vampire until they want you to.

      Our fangs, kept mostly retracted within our gums, must break free of
our flesh every time we use them, and thus go unnoticed. Our skin doesn't
grow pale or take on a dead look like you see in movies unless the vampire
has gone a great deal of time without feeding. We can walk on holy ground
and enter churches, and animals don't go berserk when we get near, though
some can sense our true natures.

	Perspective is perhaps one of our biggest and most important
differences.  Politics, wars, and corporate takeovers are of little or no
concern to us. We care not about the shift of power in the Senate and
Congress or which country has more missiles.  We don't live our lives day
by day as humans do either. When you have eternity to look forward to, you
realize that it takes more than material things to really live.  That job
promotion or the new car, that new gadget that you've been dying to get, it
all means nothing.

	Seeing the world from corner to corner, actually having walked the
earth over all seven continents, these things become important.  Taking in
every culture you encounter and truly learning about them. Learning
languages and customs, in your travels and taking a bit of something with
you wherever your path leads you.  Everything else seems like a waste of
time to us. Worrying and stressing about being late to work when you might
not live through the next few seconds let alone the rest of the day.  The
futility of putting in forty or more hours at work every week, doing the
same thing: day after day, after day. And for what?  So you can afford
"nice things" and pay the bills, only to be right back where you started.

      And what is the end result? You find yourself an elderly person, most
of the "things" you worked so hard for are either gone and replaced long
ago or outdated and no longer working. In the end, you've amassed no great
fortune, and you will most likely have less at this point in your life then
you ever did while you were working to get more of it. When you truly don't
have to live that way, when you can step outside the system and look at it
for what it is, it seems ridiculous and it's saddening.  To spend such a
large chunk of your life devoted to such a futile system is such a waste.

      People die, by the thousands, everyday, and yet they still don't see
how little time they have.  How important each and every day is and why
using it to the fullest is a must. Doing the same thing day after day and
getting nowhere isn't just useless but it's insane.  This is why we spend
our years gaining a better perspective of the world. Taking it in and
trying to make sense of it all.  We live our lives not satisfied with
simply getting by one day at a time as they say, but by truly acknowledging
time.  What would you do today if you woke up tomorrow and had eternity to
do whatever you wished and forever to get it right?


      There are many theories about vampires; our abilities and the way we
live.  To fully understand my tale you have to truly understand what it is
like to be a vampire.  While that is not something you can do without
becoming one, I'll try.  These are the truths as I've seen and experienced
them myself.  From the time a vampire takes his first breath in his
afterlife he is no longer human. His mind, his body, and soul have been
morphed into something else, something more.

      A vampire, fresh into his new life, is much like a small child
walking freely outdoors for the first time.  Attention jumping from one
thing to the next, taking interest in the simplest things as though it were
the most important thing in the world, only to forget it exists a few
moments later and move on to the next. Every thing is strange and new, the
air, the sounds, the feel of your clothing, it's all different.  And you
feel so changed at your very core that it's impossible to ignore.

       When you first awaken, there are so many new things that were there
all along that come rushing at you, it's maddening. You take notice of
every blade of grass and your eyes follow every insect that flies or crawls
into view with new focus.  You find that your vision is so much sharper
than before and that you can adjust your vision to the dimmest of
light. You realize that the blurry border of the horizon has moved back
several hundred feet as you can see further into the distance than ever
before.

       And everything around you seems so much clearer as though you were
seeing the world through a fog before. Near or far, everything appears to
have a hundred times more detail.  Every footstep sounds like something
banging against a wall and the slightest bit of air moving around your ears
feels and sounds like a gust of wind. Voices come spiraling in from all
directions, some only whispers and inaudible grumbles, and others yells
that are nearly unbearable.  The most off putting of it all is your sense
of touch.

       You very skin seems to feel a bit heavy, as if you never noticed
that there was simply so much of it. Every hair on your body that's
stimulated by the wind, your clothing, or even the touch of your own hand
is like a small shock to your newly rewired system.  Your finger tips can
feel the blood moving under your skin and it's almost erotic to feel that
subtle pulse that you are used to, replaced by a throbbing beat.

       For some time, simply wearing clothing may be a task in itself,
until your sense of touch becomes a bit less sensitive.  And the many
aromas in the air don't go without notice anymore.  People, animals, and
plants, even some inanimate objects give off their own unique scent.  And
it's most confusing, smelling something and being so sure that's it's just
a few feet away when in truth it could be a hundred feet away or even a
mile.

       I once walked the streets of France for three hours tracking down a
smell that I just couldn't get from under my nose. It was a peculiar one,
it reminded me of a plant that was dying and yet had an essence that
triggered my taste buds.  Three hours and nine miles later I found the
source of the smell. There was a table in front of a small patio area with
three seats pushed under it neatly. The table was cleared as it was late at
night and no food or any other materials remained.

       I moved closer to the table, sure that this was the point of origin
for the smell. And my eyes focused closer on the tablecloth and though it
was dark the small amount of light from a nearby lamp was enough
illumination for me to see a small amount of a substance.  It was greenish
and upon closer inspection I found that it was an herb of some
kind. Something that must have been sprinkled on food to give it more
flavor.



1350 A.D.


      They were in the next village, the message said. Word had reached us
finally and we had been warned. What any of this meant I had little or no
idea; neither of them spoke of it in front of me.  I only noticed the
shared glances from time to time. The war involved a select few families
and clans.  Some of these few happened to be very large and very long lived
clans. As I knew it, the war had little to do with us; we had committed no
crimes and did not seek to persecute others.

      Master and Xanthia were the only family I knew, and we seldom had
dealings with others, even of our own kind. It was Master's wish and thus
we followed it as if it were the law of the Lord above himself.  Xanthia
balled up the parchment and tossed it into the fireplace.  The sun had yet
to set as it was only late afternoon.  If one were to look out, the sun
would be half over the horizon.

       Xanitha returned to her place at the piano and began to play a
somber tune. She did this most nights when she didn't go out. Her
concentration was seemingly that of the finest pianist.  And her playing
had a way of capturing ones attention and mesmerizing ones senses. For
nearly a month she worked on a particular piece, looking back I can only
now compare it to Beethoven's "Moonlight" Sonata.  And know this, even his
great masterpiece did not truly compare.

"What does it mean?" I asked, watching her over the top of my book. I knew
no matter what she would make light of it, they both would.

"It means nothing; they will not trouble with us.  Read your book and let
the evening pass you by. Don't concern yourself with that which you know
nothing of." she replied.  She didn't miss a single key stroke as she
continued with the melody.

      Xanthia was my mentor in places my master had not the patience to
be. Master taught me only what he wished me to know and only when he wanted
to teach it.  Xanthia was practically his complete opposite in that
respect.  She had limitless patience, something she constantly tried to
teach me. She believed firmly that patience was the key to all things. That
if one could wait long enough to take action or make a move, thinking and
analyzing every aspect as you went, that anything was possible.

       "Play chess, not checkers" she would say.  She possessed more wisdom
and insight into the world than any I have ever known or would know.  She
was beauty, with long shoulder length hair, deep black in color.  Her skin
was not as tan as mine and yet she was not pale.  Average height, with a
slender waist, slim red lips and very attractive features, Xanthia was a
sight to be seen. Many men, unbeknownst to them at the time, came willingly
to their death while enthralled by her.

"You still speak to me and of me as though I were still a fledgling, both
of you do it constantly.  I don't think I'll ever garner any real respect
from the two of you." I said as I closed my book and slid it onto the table
next to me.

"Respect is to be taken young one; you passively wait to earn that which
must be asserted."  Spoke my master, in a low voice appearing at the
entranceway to the living room.  He was only in his robe and
undergarments. His skin was very white and the robe of the deepest red,
creating a stark contrast.  His brown wiry hair was pulled back and in a
pony tail behind him. Amon was tall, perhaps 6'2, with broad shoulders. He
was well built and could be quite the imposing figure if he wanted to be.
From my place across the room I looked up towards him. "Did you sleep well
master?" I asked.


"Like the dead" he replied with a grin. Moving into the room and sitting on
the couch across from me. He spread his body across it and half sat and
half laid on it, the robe falling upon the floor.  "I can't say I took to
the timing at which they decided to deal with those bodies. It was nearly
enough to awake me before my time." He continued.


"Yes, that smell will be with us for decades to come." Xanthia interjected.
She continued on with her song as if telling a long story. And never once
paused or made a mistake.

Amon rose from the couch sharply and walked to front of the house "The only
thing that smells worse than week old decaying bodies, is burning week old
decaying bodies." He stated.  Pulling the end of the thick curtains
slightly he peered out through the small space.  "The sun is nearly gone
now, not even an hour of daylight left."

She suddenly stopped playing and calmly rose to stand by his side.  They
both peered out into the fading daylight. It was in moments like this when
I watched the two of them most closely. "Perhaps we'll stay in tonight"
stated Xanthia.

Amon looked down to her, their eyes meeting only for a few seconds before
his gaze returned to the outside. "Yes, perhaps we will." He said in a low
voice.

Sometimes they needed only to say the slightest things and it was as though
they understood everything.  I could tell that the bond they had was one
that allowed them to practically know what the other was thinking, a bond
that had taken hundreds of years to develop. Xanthia leaned against him,
one hand on his shoulder and the other at his waist.

"So I'll assume neither of you are going to tell me what the message said.
And given your sudden agreement that none of us should venture out tonight
I'll also assume that it wasn't exactly good news" I said, moving to the
wall opposite the front door to stir the logs in the fireplace.  I knew
enough not to push the issue too far, as well as knowing that their actions
meant there was a possible level of danger in whatever news the letter had
held.

"We'll enjoy our own company this evening; that's all" Amon said, striding
across the room and back into his bedroom. Xanthia went back to her place
at the piano and began playing again. This song was not as sad in mood as
the last, yet it didn't sound happy either. The song reminded you of hard
times^Åbad times.  I watched her for a moment and my frustration with
everything got the better of me.


"So we're just going to sit here all night and pretend as though nothing is
happening out there?  You know as well as I do what could
happen. Plexington is only a few miles from here, you heard about the
bodies they found in that house. All of them butchered! They blame the
masked men of course but you and I know different. Those were our kind
killed in that house, vampires.  And they could do nothing to defend
themselves."  I had grown more and more frustrated as the words left my
mouth and I rose in a huff at the end.

"Calm yourself, we don't know the whole story so there is no point in
getting worked up over any of it."


"I was told the elders themselves had called on their assassins and
warriors to seek out and kill those the council had judged as guilty of
breaking our laws.  That they were even using their most powerful readers
to find and slay those that were to be punished."  I had been watching
carefully as I spoke and she seemed to let my words wash over her with
little or no acknowledgement. And had I not been watching so closely I
wouldn't have seen it. When I mentioned the reader she paused, not even for
a second but it was definitely there. And almost as quickly and as
unnoticeably as she had paused she started again.

"It's not like you to get so involved in rumors; you know that no one
really knows the movements of the elders. Where did you hear such a thing?"


I moved to stand by the piano as she continued to play. "I managed to speak
with Layla a few nights ago; her village was quarantined a while back. She
and her brother have relocated to a town west of here near the coast.
Coincidentally we had been hunting the same human; it's become hard to come
across a clean one that will walk the streets so freely. She told me of
what had happened in her village before they left.  She was there a few
months ago when they came.

They went straight for them in the middle of the night. Two vampires and a
fledgling living in a large house, their attackers wore black hoods and
masks like the bechini; the only difference was the masks were black as
well instead of red. I believe she said that they were eight in number, not
including the one who waited outside.  The others moved in and she says she
could hear the fight inside begin almost instantly, the three within being
overpowered quickly.

       They dragged them all out into the street, the two vampires were a
few hundred years old and she guessed the fledging wasn't even a decade
into the change.  One of the men had obviously put up a fight as blood
flowed down his face from his broken nose. That same man was pulled before
the leader of the masked vampires and a single hand was placed on his
head. A few moments later the leader gave signal to the others and the
masked vampires all unsheathed strange daggers and slaughtered the three
helpless vampires where they stood.

       Layla says the leader noticed her and stared at her deeply for a
moment. She felt as though she was nearly being pushed out of herself. And
then they all ran off into the nearby woods.  The following day, given all
the deaths, murdered and diseased, the town was announced quarantined by
the land master. She and Gabriel left that following night." I finished
talking and took my seat again by the table and reaching for my book. I had
been watching Xanthia while I relayed the story to her as it was told to
me. She was very interested in my words and didn't try to interrupt me once
to put and end to my "rumors". In fact by the end of my story she had
stopped playing altogether and only listened.

"I take it you ran into Layla the night you didn't return until the sun was
nearly up? That was very careless you, you know." She spoke, trying to
shift the subject. It was just as well, her actions were enough response
for me and I had no intention of pushing the subject further. She didn't
have master's tempter but she certainly wasn't one to forget such things. I
wasn't going to win this, which was obvious; I guess my plans to go to the
old infirmary would have to wait.

"Yes I know, I've apologized since then, I'm sorry" I opened my book and
found my place again.  As I heard master's steps coming nearer, he appeared
in the room, fully dressed this time.  He moved directly over to the self
opposite me and pulled out the chess board and its pieces.  It was one of
his favorite activities when he remained indoors. Which he rarely did but
whenever he did he would insist that I play with him.

"A game of chess then to pass the time, eh?" he said placing the board on
the dinner table and setting up the pieces without waiting for a response
from me at all. We were both pretty good at the game at this point and our
games could go on for hours at a time. Yet I had started wining all our
games years ago. Amon could grasp the strategic concept of the game and
even map out and plan very complex moves. His only shortcoming was that he
always kept his eye on winning instead of simply trying to outplay me or
outlast me. He was as direct in the game as he was in life and that made
him predictable. Playing with Xanthia was something neither of us could
stomach. Patience really was paramount where she was concerned and Xanthia
would take nearly thirty minutes to make one move.

"If you like, yes" I placed my book back on the table and took a seat at
the table pulling it around to sit opposite Amon in front of the board. He
was already studying the board and thinking of ways to win.

"You used to like playing against me I think" he stated, moving a knight
out onto the board, not a first good move.


I moved a pawn forward as I looked towards him. "You used to win".  For a
moment there was a flash of anger that registered on his face at my remark
and then he laughed lightly to himself.

      Studying the board again for some time he moved a pawn out onto the
board and continued. "Sometimes I think you're using that little ability of
yours to win". He joked.  I could read minds and have been able to for many
years.  It took me some time to learn how to actually focus it enough to
effectively read peoples minds. One doesn't suddenly learn that there is a
section of their mind that they have had all along but was dormant and
simply acquire the ability to use this new brain power over night.  It was
a very trying time when I discovered the ability.
 It wasn't an unheard of gift, but it was rare and thus I had no one to
teach me how to control it or even guide me through it. Xanthia was as
helpful as she could be. Master had no patience for my constant difficulty
at focusing my power.

       It was very discouraging, it was the first time that I felt I could
be looked on as more than a child in their eyes. With this ability I could
help make things easier for the 3 of us. And I failed time and time again
to grasp control of it. At its worst I was driven into the woods in a
frenzy, trying to silences the voices dancing in my head. Thankfully, Amon
had found me only and hour before sunrise and carried me back to our
dwelling.  I was tied to a bed for a week as I slipped into madness.  I'll
try to make you understand.


I glanced up at Amon briefly as I thought over my next move, "I have faith
in my own mind master. I won't seek advantage in yours."  As I finished
speaking I placed my bishop in the spot where his rook had previously been
and placed that piece on the table to the side of the board. "Your move."

A/N: Another chapter, I really want to here from you guys on this one, It's
the first point in the story with any real dialogue. I'd love to here from you guys!

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Chapter 1: Point of Origin

Chapter 2: Foreshadowing

Chapter 3: Broken

Chapter 4: Grievous Intrusion

Chapter 5: Awakening

Chapter 6: Revelation

Chapter 7: Paradox