A young girl stood in the center of the garden, looking around anxiously. The people whisper of the Cursed Guardian of this place, the Gardens of Lament and yet she was here… alone. She cast her gaze this way and that, and seeing nothing, breathed a sigh of relief. As she did so, the night became supernaturally still, the crickets stopped their chirping, the air became heavy and the breeze, which had blown about her ceased to flow.
The lantern she holds flickers, and goes out for an instant. And when it returns, a well-built seemingly young man with eyes the color of steel and midnight black hair stands in the middle of the room. His skin is ethereally pale, contrasting sharply with the black of his clothing, a loose fitting evening suit covered by a crimson manteau.
Unbound, his unusually long hair reached to the small of his back and his short forelock seemed to have been intricately braided and strung with the feathers of some sort of bird of prey.
His face was unremarkable, plain... but his grey eyes held her mesmerized. Those steel grey orbs seem to have drawn her deeper and deeper and their sorrowful gaze whispered to her soul.
He flickers... and suddenly he was before the girl. He bows and takes her hand. Holding it just before his lips in the style of the Old World, he says: "Guten abend, fraulein, we finally meet.”
The girl is small, petite even. Her long dark hair swings back from her face also unbound, and she is clothed in simple linen. Bangles and anklets clatter about her limbs, no matter if her feet were bare. She is not beautiful. But she curtsies with the grace of a princess, saying nothing, meaning everything.
"Beg pardon, fraulein, perhaps I should reintroduce myself... We had met earlier, and I hoped that you would remember me. I am called Ender Halcyon."
He straightens from his bow and gestures to the shadows... A small table appears, set for two.
The girl straightens up, slowly, and lifts her face to meet his eyes. They are sad, she notes. Sad and cold. She sits at the table, her hands on her lap, her garments gathered about her, and simply looks at him.
Time passes, perhaps a minute or two. She does not speak. And finally, she raises a hand, and taps her throat, where her vocal chords should be, and shakes her head sadly. It is not she who does not want to speak, but she who cannot do so.
He nods and looks into the young lady's eyes...
**There are other ways, child... Shall we speak mind to mind?**
She nods, slowly.
**We can, if you wish, sire.**
The flavour of her thoughts fit her physical body, somehow. Quiet, reserved, dignified, and yet fallen on hard times.
He frowned…
"Such innocence..." he murmured to himself.
He does not know how his own thoughts would feel to the mind of another. He draws his tongue over the large canines which were his heritage. Surely he must seem predatory and hungry to one such as her.
Crystal's eyes widened as she sees his teeth, despite her efforts to keep her calm before this man. It would not do to seem above herself, coming as a petitioner as she was... too brash, too loud, if such were possible for one who had no voice.
**What do you want of me, sire?** she asks, finally.
He raises a hand... a gesture of peace.
** I wish you no harm. Only a peaceful evening. To spend time with a mortal, to remind me of what, nay, of who I once was...**
He snapped his fingers and the plate before her filled with food. He smiled, trying unsuccessfully not to reveal his pointed nature, and leaned back in his chair and looked skywards.
Crystal glanced suspiciously at the food. But it would not do to upset the man – obviously nobly bred. “A nobleman or a creature? Or perhaps both? ”, she thinks to herself, ” . He smiled at her, and she stifled a cringe. How had she gotten into such a predicament, with a strange nobleman on one hand and food, perhaps poisoned, on the other?
Reluctantly, Crystal lifts a fork - silver, carved with vines - and reluctantly, she tries some… It is good, but she does not feel hungry. “Time with a mortal,” she thought, “And he meant no harm. I do not believe he would break his own word,” The tension inside her eased a little.
But she does not know what to say.
**Will you not eat also?** she asked tentatively.
He shook his head in negation.
** I have no appetite for such in the here and now. ‘Tis the nature of my blessing and my curse.**
He waved a hand and a glass of... wine? appeared.
He eyes the glass carefully. "The blood of the grape, however, still tastes as sweet as before. So I may partake of it."
**What is your blessing, sire?** she asked. “He spoke of blood,” She is not foolish, she knows what creature this is. But she also hungers to know and this is an opportunity like no other. Levering up a forkful of meat to her mouth, she puts down the fork and chews slowly, giving him her full attention.
**And what is the curse?**
He blinks and Speaks, his words resonating through the night, chiming in the air.
** The blessing is to see the night like no other being does. A time of infinite beauty...**
He shrugs and holds up a hand, fingers curled slightly to illustrate a point.
** The realization of how precious life and innocence and virtue is.**
His gaze then turns far, far away and he continues.
** The curse is... Never to rest. To see others bloom like flowers for a season and then pass away. To see the evil that lurks in the darkness of the hearts of men, shadows darker even than the night. To shun the warm, life-giving rays of the sun. To know that no one can or will ever love one such as me.**
He looks straight into the young woman's eyes, looking upon the reflection of his unloving existence unflinchingly.
**To have those who walk the day fear me.** he finishes softly.
She steels herself, pity welling up unwillingly. She would not cause him pain.
**I do not fear you. ** she says bravely, quietly.
He smiles sadly. "You would be a fool if you do not fear... Not all are like myself. It would be wise to fear those who are embraced of the Dark."
He sips from his glass.
** You are but mortal. Gifted though you are in the mindspeech. **
"Enough about my troubles... You have trouble aplenty." He indicates her worn clothes. "How come you by
such difficult times? You would not have set foot in these gardens had you not sought my company, knowingly or unknowingly."
**My half-brother is an angel** she said, as though wanting to cry.
**When we were young, he taught me the speech and how to conceal it as it was forbidden to half-breeds. But now he is gone... and I have no one. They told me that you could help... that you had great power... for a price; and I had nowhere else to go.**
"I have no power over the Divine or the Daemonic." He begins... "I am first and foremost a creature of the Earth. I know of those who walk on the earth and lie underneath it. What aid do you require? Just ask of me."
Her head rises, slowly. **I am half-angel** she says, determinedly. **My brother is a pureborn. We share the same mother. Then...** she touches her neck. **I was hurt. By what creature I know not. And since then I have lost the meager powers I once possessed... and I am mortal now - I will age and die as mortals do.**
She presses her lips together, holding back her tears and trying to be strong, her dignified demeanor crumbling. **But it was bearable, until they took my brother away.**
**Do you think...** she says desperately **If I gave... I would give anything.**
“‘Anything’ is a very open-ended thing." He says quietly. "What would you give 'Anything' for?"
**My brother back,** she replies instantly.
"And if I ask for your soul?" he asks menacingly, his voice taking on a frightening cast...
Dark wings abruptly burst from behind his manteau, knocking his chair back as he hovers above the ground... His steel grey eyes now an azure blue in color. A single silver horn rises from the center of his brow, and his hair writhes in the wind, serpentlike.
She shrinks back against her chair, terrified suddenly despite how brashly she said she would not be afraid. **You cannot have it** she blurts. **My brother would not have wanted me to sacrifice my immortal soul that belongs to God just to find him.**
She straightens then, still the meek and innocent child, but with steel in her posture. Unbending and unbroken.
The vampire winks and grins. His eyes go back to their usual grey color. He settles firmly on the ground once more and as he bends to pick up the chair, his dark wings seem to be drawing back underneath the manteau. He blinks and his single horn retracts into a small silver starburst in the middle of his brow. As he seats himself again, he smiles again that sorrowful smile.
"Apologies for the frightening pose. But I had to test your resolve." He frowns and he touches his chin in thought...
"Remember child... Not all those who have wings are Angelic, and not all those who possess horns are Daemonic.”
Crystal takes a long, trembling breath. **Do you do that often? ** she asks, timidly.
He grins and chuckles... and his fangs are no longer so noticeable. "Not very, no."
She nods, once. Then she quiets herself, waiting for his answer to her plea.
He smiles at her, his face seeming almost human. "I will help you."
Her face lit up, filled with joy so incoherent that she loses the mental discipline to even mindspeak, but instead leaps up like a spring uncoiled, and rushes around the table to hug him in gratitude. And all the while, tears of joy and relief flowed down her cheeks.
He seems taken aback. And then... he slowly relaxes and tentatively wraps his arms around her. A single tear rolls down his left cheek. After a moment, he pulls back and looks down at her. "Child, I have not been embraced in ages. You give me a precious gift."
She says nothing, but pulls back and smiles at him, then brushes the tear away with a finger. **I am older than I seem, sire,** she says in a voice half choked with laughter, and joy, and oddly, pity. **And I thank you for letting me give it to you.**
Addendum: Part II should come out in a few weeks, bear with me. I have to study for tests and complete college assignments!!!
