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Dieadren's Journal


Dieadren's Journal

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3 entries this month
 

The snow ridden road...

01:07 Apr 02 2007
Times Read: 566


The massive doors of the tavern stood in front of me like old soldiers weary from a long lost battle. Their wood was old and worn; their bright color now turned an unbelievably drab shade of gray. The iron handles on each of the doors were ancient as well. It appeared as though someone had attempted to make them look like new, but the rust had long since claimed its victims. I sighed, the gloominess of this place already attacking me, whether I willingly let it in or not, it overcame me.



The cold winter wind whipped at my back as I stood before those doors. My heart raced, as if it knew something I did not, something lurked beyond those doors, sitting at one of those tavern tables, my fate awaited me. The thick cloak I had on my back did nothing against the freezing temperatures, the wind chilled the bones, moving in to claim the soul if the owner allowed it.



I moved my shaking hands, numb from cold, to the old iron handles and pushed in with all my strength. The doors creaked in protest, almost as if refusing to open against the wind, but they obliged my bidding and slid slowly inward. Another cold gust of snow laden wind ripped at my clothing, sending a small flurry inside before I managed to close those massive doors.



The tavern was homely, not downright dirty, but not spotlessly clean, it held an odd essence to it. Tables were scattered about the old wooden floor, six I counted, more there may have been for I did not count precisely, but rather just glanced around the room before I settled down. A massive stone fireplace stood at the far end of the main room of the tavern, its proportions enough to dwarf the tallest of men. A fire blazed inside it, having once been strong and young, the fire was now old and weak, dying from lack of care and loss of fuel, it waned. There were only a few people in the tavern on this, what must have been the coldest of nights. Two rugged looking men with sizable beer bellies sat at a condemned old table in a shadowed corner, I saw them eye me cautiously as I walked in, but noticed they paid me no further mind after my initial arrival. I noticed two people, a man and a woman (the woman appeared to be a bar girl) sitting at what someone must have called a piano, though you couldn't tell it now. The man played while the woman giggled and toyed with him mercilessly, obviously trying to sell her services. I sighed, and finished my intake of the room; it was the last man I saw that puzzled me greatly.



He sat at a table, alone, but surprisingly young. I slowly walked to his table, passing the bartender as I did so. I waived my hand gently to him, motioning that I had no need of drink, tonight would best be remembered with clear mind, not fuzzy with alcohol. The bartender glanced at me oddly, as if he did not think that a woman such as I would travel alone, I paid him no mind, but kept my gaze on the lonely man at the table. He was young, yes, only a few more years than I, perhaps 28? I must admit that I was attracted to him, him being so young and oddly enough, handsome. But I'm afraid that is where the first attraction ended. His hair was long and gray, no, not gray, white, as if created in a dream for a dream. He drank something from a tall mug, beer I suspected, but not a word I dared say. Instead I merely stood at the end of the table. When he glanced up, it was not out of fear, but out of boredom, as if he had known that I would be standing in that spot hours before. I noticed his eyes were gray, not dark, but amazingly light, they held a warmth, yet a coldness at the same time. He did not smile, his gaze did not waiver, but instead he motioned me to a seat across from him. I sat slowly, watchfully, though I did not fear him. He took another drink from his mug and broke the deadly silence I had been hiding in for so long.



"You do not fear to travel by roads alone milady?" His voice was warm, not deep, but oddly familiar. Though he asked a question of concern, it was clear that he held no real concern for me, instead he only asked a question, no personal reasons behind it. His eyes remained cold and limpid as he watched me, waiting halfway for an answer and halfway not expecting one.



"Fear caused by what? Because I am a woman and am alone? Or because I know not of what lurks there beyond?" I answered his question with a few of my own, resisting his gaze, a gaze that willed me to reveal all about myself.



He smiled, it was then that my heart skipped a beat, and shock over came me. He sensed my slight fear, and only seemed to laugh at it. "Fear because you do not fear what you do or do not see..." He sighed slightly and took another drink from his mug. "I know what lies beyond milady, and fear would not even encompass the terrors you may have seen any other night." He paused and gazed at me with those flat eyes of his once again. He appeared to be enjoying my reaction to his smile. I shall tell you what made me jump so...his teeth were no ordinary, yet two sharp fangs on either side revealed his secret.



I steadied myself, knew him now, a vampire was he, though one which I did not yet quite fear. "Of the wolves you mean?" I laughed. "I have run into them before, or at least close to, I do not fear their eerie howls or their snarling lips." He regarded me oddly now, as if he knew me, yet did not.



"No. Though the wolves shall be feared, it is what is not seen in plain moonlight that you need worry." He leaned closer to me and smiled even more, bearing his deadly teeth. "Though I do warn you, watch for the wolf purest white in color. He shall be the one to fear." He leaned back in his chair and laughed loudly.



Anger rose to my face, I had been patient, yet this man did not reveal to me any about himself, yet he demanded all about me. "Who are you?!" I could not keep myself from asking this most simple of questions. He only smiled again, but his cold eyes warmed greatly, he spoke once more.



"Keeper of the dead, ruler of the castle, prince to your most holiest of dreams....what does it matter? You already know my secret, but I tell you, only because I decided to show you." Again he drank from his mug and wiped his lips after doing so, he gazed up at me again.



I sighed, attempting to keep fear and anger from mixing on my face, to no avail. He saw both emotions and seemingly fed of them at the same time.



"You need not fear me milady. I am not the wolf of white, no pain and death do I wreak as of yet." He took one last drink and stood quickly, reaching out his hand for mine. "Will you come with me to my castle or chance the inn. Perhaps venture outside and meet the wolf of white yourself?"



"What makes you believe that trust I would put in you?" I glanced at his mug. He smiled once more and answered me slyly.



"Because had I wanted to take you, I would have done so already. You see no fang marks on your neck?" To this, my heart would not answer, nor would my lips. I only had the breath that had caught in my chest when he had given his solemn reply to my logical question.



"And what is it that you drink this hellatious night?" I could not resist, my curiosity spurred. I used it as an attempt to hide my fear of my death by his hands.



"Knowledge of which shall never reach your ears. ‘'Tis not for you to know. Do you come? Or shall I walk to the castle alone tonight?"



It seemed I had no choice. Yes, it was true, if he had wanted me, he would have taken me already, I could do nothing to hold back his vampire strength. I tried for more air, but my lungs wouldn't budge, I reached out my slender hand and placed it in his.



"This I may regret." Was all I could manage to say, this I may regret.



"By my hand? No, milady. But shall I tell you, that no refuge would you have in that tavern," we left the old and warn tavern, walking out into the cold winter. "Demons as well as wolves of white may enter that tavern at will, yet my castle they may not."



"I am sure that I shall learn of this wolf of white? Tell me, why is it that you help me so?"



"Chosen by unseen forces, I am your protector through time. That is all you need know for now. Now, walk even step, and careful with me, the path to the castle is not so long, but definitely not easy on the shoes." I replaced the hood of my cloak on my head in a futile attempt to block out the biting cold. I felt my guardian's eyes watching me and looked up, he smiled slightly.



"Am I to know your name guardian?" I had just realized that this whole time he had not told me his name. Though, I then realized that I had not told him mine either.



He sighed and returned his gaze to the road ahead. "If it pleases you milady. I am Natanael von Casimir, I rule the castle that looms high on the hill above the valley below." He continued walking the snow-ridden road. He stepped with amazing pace, I had a little problem keeping up, but once I found his pace, I kept at his side easily. He turned and looked at me again, his gray eyes fairly warm now. "Might I ask of you the same question?"



COMMENTS

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My wish, my curse

01:03 Apr 02 2007
Times Read: 568


IMAGINE ME AS JACLYN, OK?





A favorite thing to do, concerning a teenager by the name of Jaclyn, was to play an online role-playing game by the name of Vampire: The Masquerade. Jaclyn, being fifteen, but quite shy and self-contained, found much solace in her room, on her computer, living in her fantasy world. It was her dream that one day this world would become real, and ever year on her birthday, since she was eight years old, she had wished to Vladisola, the supposed goddess of the Vampires, that she herself would turn into a vampiress. Sadly, this wish had not ever come true, but at the age of fourteen, she had stumbled upon the lovely role-playing game, and thought of it as the next best thing. Thankfully, everyone was happy.



Quickly arriving, though, was Jaclyn’s sweet sixteen, a very special year for vampires. The sixteenth year of a vampire is when they graduate combat and training lessons, and are allowed to hunt on their own, of their own accord. They are given the freedom of forsaken whichever lives they chose to, and must deal with the consequences on their own. Sixteen, for the vampire, is being an adult. And something Jaclyn wanted to have more than anything in the world was to be an independent vampire.



So two weeks passed by form of Jaclyn, still on her Hewlett-Packard Pavilion home PC, playing her fantasy games, and soon the big day had arrived. The few acquaintances from her school that she had spoken with every so often courteously phoned her and wished her a happy birthday, but other than a small cake and a handful of presents from her mother, father, and younger sister, nothing changed in her routine.



As the sixteen black candles burned over her chocolate ice cream cake, Jaclyn wished that she would become a vampire, and promptly blew them out. Her parents and sister clapped, and presents and cards were handed to her, packaging paper was ripped, and Jaclyn feigned interest as she pulled out a DVD and a CD or two. She ate in silence, while her parents reminisced over the past sixteen years of their ‘little girl’s’ life, and her sister had made off with the DVD, a Pearl Harbor or something of the like.



“Sweetheart?” her mother looked at her. “You’re so quiet. Do you not feel well?” Without waiting a response, she stood up and automatically placed her palm of Jaclyn’s forehead. “You’re warm. I think you should take some Advil, or lie down for a while. You might be coming down with a cold.”



“I think I’ll survive,” was her reply. “May I go?”



“Yes.”











After being excused from the table, Jaclyn climbed back up her well-trodden steps, and once again barricaded herself in her room. Re-connected to the internet and returning to her RP website was a mere ritual, a ceremony comprised of going through the motions without conscious thought put into it. Seeing as it was her birthday, a new year and a new chance for her to start over, she decided to create a new character. She filled out the appropriate forms with ease, as she had done many times before, and came to the box she always filled in last...the name.



Oh well, what the hell, she thought, as she quickly typed Jaclyn into the space and hit enter. It was her birthday...why not make it interesting? And so, for the next four and a half hours, she played her character, a human, and began the process of giving her to the life of the Vampire.



Finding another vampire to change her would be no problem, so she chose to let her character walk alone through the woods at a late hour in the evening. If that wasn’t inviting an attack, nothing would. So, a fellow RPer jumped at the chance to change this new and inexperienced mortal. The first attack came in the form of draining the blood from the human. Again, it was routine and habitual for her, but certain steps must be taken to change one to a vampire. Tradition is tradition, after all. Next, the human would experience ten or so minutes of pain while their systems shut down, and once every last drop of blood was gone, and the last breath escaped from her chest, the vampire would slit his wrist, and the human would drink the blood, turning into a fledgling. While she continued to type on her keyboard, her head and lower back began to hurt, and her arms and legs felt numb, as if the circulation was gone.



Oh, my legs have fallen asleep, she thought to herself, I must be sitting on them funny. But why are my arms numb? Perhaps I need to take that Advil...



She tried to stand up, but found she was weak and dizzy, and the result was her collapsing on the floor. No matter which way she tried to turn her legs, whether she hit them, wiggled them, or forced them into a standing position, they were useless.



“Mom!” she called downstairs, but her voice cracked, and soon she could not speak. But she could hear her mother’s worrisome footsteps dashing up the stairs. Soon the door would be flung open, and her mother began screeching.



“Oh Jaclyn, you’re so pale! The blood has drained right out of your face; I should call the hospital. You look deathly white. How do you feel?”



The only response Jaclyn could manage was a single word, which her mother could not comprehend.



“Vladisola.”



Her mother stood quickly picked up the phone and dialed 911. An operator picked up, and asked the standard procedural questions, but Jaclyn’s mother was frantic with worry, and could barley string together a proper response.



“And how long has she been this way?”



“Oh, about...ten minutes.”



Suddenly, someone else was in the room. Jaclyn looked up, and her eyes, which had narrowed and drained of color, now widened in near disbelief. At the sight of this stranger, her mother reacted quite differently. Her response was immediate screaming of ‘intruder.’ But the visitor held up a single finger to her mouth, and Jaclyn’s mother quieted herself.



The woman was dressed in all black, with a crimson cape billowing behind her, though there was no wind in the room. Her hair was white, and reached the top of her waistline; her eyes were black, and her smile was defined. Instead of explaining, she drew a knife from her sleeve, and promptly slit her left wrist.



“Jaclyn,” she said quietly.



Automatically, Jaclyn pulled herself to the woman’s side, who over turned her wrist, allowing Jaclyn to catch the blood in her mouth and let it trickle down the back of her throat. During the entire process, Jaclyn’s mother stood in terror, an expression of incomprehensible horror spread across her face.



After a moment, the woman turn her wrist upward and the wound healed over perfectly. She stood silently, watching Jaclyn, who was writing on the floor in pain. She watched as Jaclyn’s eyes turned white, the as the black pupils formed, giving her a very void look. She watched as Jaclyn’s pale skin became even more pallid, and as her canines gained an inch and a half in length. After a moment, Jaclyn stood, and faced the stranger.



“Vladisola,” she said, nodding in acknowledgment.



“My newest fledgling,” she replied. “And after seven years of wishing, you’d thought I had abandoned you. Now you must join your new People. They will train you, but quickly, for there is much to learn. The Craft is not mastered in a day, to be sure.”



Jaclyn turned to her mother, who was still standing in shock.



“Mother, I have to go now. I won’t be coming back either, not for a very long time. But in the end, I will return. I promise I won’t forget you, or the rest of my family.”



Her mother’s only response was to collapse.



“She’ll be without a scratch or a memory when she wakes. It’s just shock and a simple memory wipe,” Vladisola told Jaclyn. “Now we have to go. You have much to learn.” And with that, she disappeared as quickly as she came


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What is to become of me...

01:00 Apr 02 2007
Times Read: 569


Vampire



I move with the agility of a bird, on light feet and clear intention. I am of unbreakable bones and unblemished flesh, immortality flows through my veins, and I have no use for air. I am a legend embodied, a myth personified. I live on death and perceive through pain, yet my love for existence is greater than the sun is hot.



You will recall such creatures as myself from literature in the genre of horror, and from motion pictures full with gore and heart-tugging scream. But the truth of my kind is far from horrible. To ignorant minds yes, we are a force to be feared, but to those who are willing to be wise we are a species to be idolised. Answer me this: why would one not desire eternal youth, sensuality free of guilt, and lust that is never unquenched? The perfect existence.



We are paradoxical to the mortal eye; for we are you fear and desire incarnate. There is endless possibility in immortality, so those of you who seek knowledge and adventure should permit yourselves the elegant slaughter of your mortality.



The legends contain elements of truth: to make a vampire you must first drink of the human then have them drink of you. But this sharing of lifeblood is far from the torture portrayed in fiction. This process of creation is beautiful. It is the vampire’s gift to the human.



You are not persuaded. Let me lead you back to a time when I was wrapped in a blanket of naivety.



It was during the reign of the black death in England, a time of absolute horror and unnatural darkness. Each person sat in wait for their bleak existence to end. My mother and I were the last of bloodline alive; she too frail even to speak, death would come kindly.



Like any mortal, I feared endless darkness or whatever it is that clutches us after the nurturing earth. My body was not so heavily taken with dis-ease as my mothers and so I worked with other men of able body, crafting sizeable pits to bury the dead within. It was at this labour that I met my first immortal.



As we worked the earth into holes and stranger caught my attention. He leant against a mottled tomb, dressed in usual vampire attire, watching us as though amused. I asked him to state his business and he replied with an invitation to join him for a drink of ale at the inn when our work was done. My fellows declined but I accepted his invitation out of pure curiosity, thinking him quite mad to risk infection.



There was something intense in this man’s presence, something I couldn’t pin a definition upon. He had the air of a learned gentleman yet he spoke like common folk.



When we had buried the day’s victims I looked in on my mother then joined company with the stranger in the inn. He had a tankard of ale waiting to quench my thirst. I thanked the man and drunk the ale deeply into my desiccated body. On confiding to him my thoughts on his madness he laughed, as though expecting this of me. Then he leant forwards so there was but five inches of air between or faces, and gave me another invitation to join him at his home.



Silence smothered my thoughts as the man started into my eyes. In those few moments I became aware that this man and I were spiritually entwined. I felt that he could see through the darkness of my soul, and I through his. I had fallen in love; but not the romantic love of lovers, the eternal love of kindred souls.



“You are tired of waiting”, he said. I nodded knowing his meaning, then we stood as if one and departed the inn.



Outside, the night was chill so that my breath fogged my vision. My friend led the way as we journeyed in silence for tens of minutes until our destination was reached. A large, threateningly grey house of a size I had never seen stood before me.



Once inside and settled in a chair of quilted emerald velvet a potent calm flooded my consciousness, and I watched without contemplation as my friend built a fire in the grate.



After slipping into merciful sleep I woke to see the clock upon the mantle reading midnight and my companion watching my gaze.



In the next moments my fate was determined; I was to become immortal. This did not scare me, as it never scares the chosen ones. And to my surprise I knew what immortality meant and what it entailed.



As my companion sunk ivory fangs into the waiting pulse of my neck I felt only exaltation. It was as though the weight of a stagnant ocean had been drained from my soul. My body and mind cleared of illness and human unknowing. In the moment of rebirth I was all-seeing, all-powerful. Bathed in unimaginable bliss.



That was the night of my transformation. Of my liberation from the shackles of human life-span. Since then I have freed many, people of varied colour and culture, children even. But only those who wish for release from waiting for death, and only those who understand what it means to be immortal. For immortality is not forever; nothing is eternal. One day this earth will die, taking all her creatures with her.



I am certain of your thoughts. You wonder what is the point in immortality if it is not, indeed, forever. And I am sorry but I have no reason for you, only the theory that immortality is essential for the acceleration of the soul after bodily death.



No one knows what lies in wait beyond physical existence, so why not experience the richness of experience and feed your soul each morsel of knowledge that is possible to gather?



To be a vampire is to know divinity, to have a strengthening connection with that which awaits us. The vampire is the ultimate being; physical and spiritual in equal parts, we are closer to angels than you know. The only way for you to understand the secrets and truths of existence is to shed your mortal shell, become vampire.



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