He watched as the flames spluttered and flickered until it finally died…he lay still… unmoving but for his unusual, everlasting eyes…they were wild and feral even as he lay there…silent…watching the servants that used to attend to the young fledging lying broken and dying beside him scream for their lives as they went into headlong flight, uncaring of their master as he choked on the last remaining vestiges of blood in his mutilated body...

His eyes followed the frantic movements of the fleeing mortals…

Fleeing as if the very devil was on their heels...

A small smile flashed briefly on lips still stained with his kill’s blood as they shrieked in terror...

Perhaps it’s because the devil really is...

His eyes closed for a moment, gathering the strength that coursed through his veins, feeling the ancient blood pulse…singing an ageless song that only he could hear, empowering the body that many of his own clansmen covet...the very body that the entire Coven bought at such a high cost, damaging itself beyond measure to attain...the body of an angel that now housed the wretched soul that is the distillation of the very essence of darkness...

Slowly, he drew in a lungful of air, savoring the miracle that allowed him such a simple yet poignant feat... a vampire that drew breath like any mortal being...and yet he is not one to gulp each draft of air like a thirsting man greedily taking in a drop of water to ease his parched body...no…even after a millennia, breathing is still so new to him…still a novel experience…he finds no reason to hasten his actions…instead, he finds every means to delay the moment of completion…to impede upon the passing seconds as they flutter by…ticking and ticking past until the act was done…He lingers over every drop...relishing it...eyes closed tightly…communing with himself…knowing what was given…what was sacrificed to enable him to attain such a gift that mortals, in all their shallowness and frivolity, take for granted.

Ever so slowly, he lifted his ebony lashes, allowing the setting sun to illuminate his beguiling gift... his eyes...eyes that were both blessing and admonition...a mark and curse in one...

As entrancing as his moonlight-colored hair that drew the eyes of mortals and immortals alike...as unyielding and seductive as the pale, cold flesh that could not, for all the inherent power it wields, generate enough energy for the simple task of producing warmth were …it was always his eyes that drew prey to his side…always those soulful, Fallen eyes that tugged at their imagination and fueled the desire in their veins…releasing their inhibition and wariness…his eyes could seduce the most stalwart of hearts, sway the most frigid of emotions…his eyes could make the devout weep and claim sanctuary within arms that bring nothing but death and still, one look at his eyes and they would come running to his embrace…willing to sacrifice virtue, life, limb, even their immortal souls for one forbidden taste of his lips…one lingering, smoldering gaze cast from beneath his ebony lashes…

Slowly, he raised himself from his blood-soaked bed, willing his limbs to move once more and discard the lethargic air that clung to him after each successful hunt. His feet made no sound as he stood and walked to the very edge of the lake. He took no notice of the fledgling that, until a moment ago was so alive and arrogant in his certainty that nothing could damage his immortal shell. Nothing…except perhaps another immortal just like him … and yet nothing like him. He turned to go but before his booted foot could touch the grassy knoll, a presence stopped him.

Alaric turned to look at his unexpected visitor. The figure kept a polite distance between them, never once forgetting the rules of etiquette and decorum...ever mindful of what is proper. He stood there, silent and unmoving-- not wanting to alarm the taciturn hunter and his tender sensibilities...the wary prince smirked. It would seem the night has yet again deemed it fitting to bestow upon him another gift. Though one that he would be only too wary to welcome with open arms.

The Figure came up to him, smelling, curiously enough, like winter itself…cool and faintly sweet… shimmering with the subtle preternatural gleam that only he could recognize...appreciate...and properly love, had he been inclined to give off any such feeling. The figure seemed to emerge from mist and shadows... In time, the specter-like presence has been replaced by something more substantial and resolute.

It was the shock of auburn hair that first drew one's eyes. Each strand seemed to gleam like burnished flames in the light of the descending sun. It cascaded into a waterfall of curls that reached nearly to the hips, held back by a single black silk ribbon. The contrast between the shadowy clothes that seek to conceal and the hair that demanded attention was just one of the many contradictions his unexpected interloper brought...

The rich midnight blue cloak was lifted by the passing wind, revealing immaculate white silk stockings; a pair of white beribboned court shoes...an indigo velvet coat and breeches, snowy linen shirt and a steel colored silk cravat. Priceless lace spilled from the cuffs of the superbly cut frock. Hands, frail as ivory carved for holy icons peeked from beneath the lace, nails that topped long tapered fingers gleamed like polished glass.

The mist lifted enough to show a face that was not unremarkable in the least...smoothed by the passing years, giving it the impression of marble bestowed living breath. The face and form gave no clear indication of age or gender...his form could very well be a young woman dressing like a nobleman or a young boy barely bloomed…his demeanor spoke of a desire and determination to fade into forgetfulness...all except for his flaming hair and bejeweled eyes.

And so there they stood...silent at first, laden both with preternatural gifts that seemed all at once utterly useless now...unable to breach a short distance...unable to communicate except perhaps with something as paltry as words...They stood unmoving as they have since they last saw one another…across a vast expanse that called to their senses…triggering the memories of searing pain and blood-drenched earth…When the figure finally broke the silence that gripped them both...it was with a voice that seemed to embody the complexity of all human eloquence:

"It would seem that you have yet to tire of these games. You have not forgotten the call of blood nor learned to ignore its siren’s call, Sire...I am curious…why does such a rabid beast hide behind such frail mask?”

"I am unlikely to forget...Celaeno...and as you say, it is but a mask…"

Thick, ruby-hued lashes lifted to unveil eyes as uncanny as those possessed by the vampire prince. And while the vampire's icy beauty was well matched with eyes meant to enthrall and seduce...the eyes that Celaeno possessed were aimed to startle...and haunt...

“A mask that you find such joy in donning…perhaps there is something to the fact that you now hunt others like yourself…”

Slowly, languidly, the figure raised its face towards the taciturn vampire, hair of muted flames falling into waves to frame a face that would rival any created in the glory days of Rome and the Renaissance.Every move was poised, each gesture bearing an ethereal grace that could not be matched nor imitated...Celaeno glided towards the vampire, each tread measured...with such uncanny precision...it was as if between one breath and the other, he breached the distance between them.

“ Mortals are not much of a challenge…they run or they let themselves be seduced…and I have had enough of that reaction…I am sick of it…bored with mortals predictability….” A fang was bared and concealed in a flash. “But they can be amusing at times…”

Each feature of his face was constructed to perfection...like a beautifully rendered dream...a countenance that was meant to leave onlookers in awe...A shaft of the sun's dying light fell across the flawless countenance, illuminating the otherworldly flames of cognac-colored eyes, setting them ablaze...

Thickly lashed, with depths that fairly dripped with arcane knowledge from the ages...like intricately designed shards of cinnamon diamonds, topaz, onyx and citrine...eyes that have witnessed much...eyes that could pierce the heart with a single look and see to the blackened soul deep within...And yet those eyes resonated with a deep-welled darkness that even their crystalline depths could not belie...and a sadness that could not completely vanish. For all their unearthly beauty...they were eyes that told a story all their own.

"Indeed…and yet it is so easy to be seduced with all things mortal...Sire...there is too much temptation in your way..." Celaeno murmured softly in a voice that was neither feminine nor masculine, but compelling nonetheless. "But perhaps there is something here that tempts your interest and holds sway other than the perfume of another immortals blood...?"

He smiled. Noting the flickers of wary interest in his unusual guest’s flame-colored eyes, he allowed his gaze to wander over the arresting picture that the immortal made. His dawn-colored eyes lingered over the flowing hair that cascaded like a ruby waterfall down the straight back, framing what was undeniably a countenance suited for a child of the Heavens.

With a soft, derisive smile gracing his thin lips, he murmured softly,

"Tempted I might be with things that mortals take for granted, but they will never hold sway over my decision…they have forgotten the very thing that makes them tempting in the first place." A delicate moonlit-colored eyebrow was arched, “But I doubt that even an immortal such as yourself would be so bored so as to seek me out just to ask such an obvious question…”

“You resent my presence…”

“It matters little when confronted with the fact that you amount to less than what these pitiful cattle mean to me…”

“Yet you rail against my being here…”

“Rail? Hardly that…few things could rouse any emotion in me…I am beginning to wonder if I have any left…tell me, is that the price for using this shell for so long?”

“I do not know…”

Dear Mortals:

For those  who follow the tale woven within these walls we have an announcement. Recent events made it impossible to continue writing. But we are loathe to abandon our work, thus we have agreed to re-write some of the pieces and alter some of the timelines. We would also be relocating. should you wish to read further we will announce the new location soon.

-the despondent scribes 

             “It’s a magnificent relic…” she murmured softly, gazing at the broken, ravaged pieces as if she could see how it might’ve looked like once its glory has been restored. Thus, preoccupied as she was with her musings she missed the slight curl of Teie’s lips as she glanced contemptuously at the relic.

            “It’s just that…nothing more and certainly nothing less…just wood and silica…and man’s infinite ability to put whatever haunts him into tangible form…if you think that’s magnificent, you’re insulting the Parthenon and Da Vinci…”

            Desdemona gave an indulgent smile and shook her head disbelievingly at her mentor’s blithe reply. “You must admit it’s magnificent…there’s something quite—unreal about it…something otherworldly…something not quite—here…don’t you think so?”

            Teie snorted derisively before leveling a scathing gaze at the ruined frame.

            “Don’t get too sentimental cherie. Wood crumbles and glass shatters with the barest of touch…there is nothing there that wasn’t fabricated by man’s devious hands…”         She pointed at the broken shards and frame with an index finger, the entire gesture somehow implying obvious condescension.

            “That mirror just happens to do precisely that on a far grander scale than normal. It is the nature of creatures to aspire to better themselves. Even the lowliest of the low aspire for some sign of greatness…”

            She stared at her mentor with amusement and affection. Though often she was left bewildered with her unconventional methods and sharp wit even she could not explain the disdain that Teie held for the very things that stirred Desdemona’s soul.

            “You are surprisingly jaded Teie…these are things that withstood the ravages of time…they are witnesses to the genius that is humankind…don’t you think they deserve our awe if not our reverence?”

            Teie leveled her unusual eyes on her yound protégé and wondered if she really wanted to know the answer to that question. Deciding that the time was not yet right, she only muttered dispassionately.

            “I revere enough things in this world cherie… but it is certain that nothing as flimsy as a mirror would force me to do more than that… now, put this thing out of your mind. We have better things to think about…”

            “B-b-but we were commissioned to restore it--!” she spluttered and Teie laughed aloud but her laughter was tinged with a bitter air that make Desdemona’s stomach clench.

            “You can never fully restore something…there is no such thing as a perfect or a complete restoration…wood once molded and cut attains the sculptors form and never again its own…we may polish it and carve it to our will but it will never be what it once was…glass may be replaced but we can never set the same silica over flames to forge what carelessness shattered beyond repair…it will never be the same glass…no matter how we fashion it to look the same way.”

            Desdemona flushed and murmured, “I know that…but still—!”

            “Still you wish for the impossible.” She raised a hand to tilt Desdemona’s chin, raising her face to peer into her eyes. “You are naïve ma petit…you have that much going for you. Come now, we must leave. Time is not something I wish to waste, though I have more than enough of that for sure…”

My cunning captor continued to gaze at me with eyes colder than all those long winter dawns that used to herald the end of the hunt…eyes that even now made the blood in my veins pound with screams held back by the wards she has thoughtfully and thoroughly bound to my immortal shell…

            “There is much for us to discuss, my lord…”

I pinned her a look filled with loathing but like a seasoned player of the boards, she simply smiled and continued idly to play with the ends of her hair.

            “Discuss? Funny…I thought that we’re past simple discourse or isn’t that the reason I’m currently kept under lock and chain?”

            “Come now…surely you could understand why I had to do this…I had no other choice…they might simply take you from me and you know I could never let that happen…”

I graced her with my bared fangs and the wards that kept me still hummed as if they were being stretched to the breaking point. With a disdainful toss of my head, I muttered contemptuously.

            “Save your pretty lies for the fools that still fall prey beneath your soiled feet…I have no need for them…You’d think after all this time you would’ve learned that by now…”

She lifted a hand and caressed my jaw with jeweled talons that glimmered in the fading light. Had it not been for the scarlet chains wrapped around my neck I would’ve risked snapping my own neck to avoid her touch.

            “You will heed my words one day, my lord…after all…I am all that you have left…all that remains constant in your world…or have you forgotten that?”

I forced myself not to grimace in hatred nor hiss in rage, reigning in the craving in my heart to give vent to my frustration. Nothing gave away my contempt, except for the wintry tone of my voice and the wild look in my golden eyes. And yet, even as I kept my self from lunging at her bared neck, I warily accepted her point.

 But I would be Damned a thousand times over before I admit that to her. What she said could be the truth for all I know…or it could’ve easily been a lie just as well…I have lost count of the passing centuries…unaware of the exact passage of time since I last knew of the waking world concealed behind my enchanted cage…unconscious of the changing eons since I last drew breath perfumed by the essence of freedom.          

            “I have forgotten nothing Witch…certainly not of your betrayal or that of your wretched kind…”

Her lips twisted into a mocking smile and again I had to resist the urge to bare fangs long-denied the pleasure of tearing into vulnerable flesh. Hers would be just as vile as poisoned carcass and yet I crave still the savageness of the act just the same. And just like a prey taunting a predator that could not spring into death’s embrace, she came ever nearer to my grasp, kept safe by nothing more than crimson strands stronger than the wings I was born with…stronger even than the fury burning in my blood.

            “I did no such act, my lord of the heavens…or has time blurred your memories and made a mockery of your own mind? My lord! It was not I who left you in my care nor was it my intent to keep you caged like a fierce hunting beast tethered to a jeweled leash. No, that was the choice your own kind made…blame the brethren that gave rise to your being…I am merely collecting payment for services rendered to your proud, ancient lineage.”

            “You speak in riddles…lies and vile innuendos…I have no need for those…certainly not from someone like you…don’t you tire of lying Witch? You do that more often and with more consistency that you do breathing!”

An adoring smile bloomed on her lips and her eyes sparkled with unholy mirth and amusement.

            “Ah…there be my fiery lord…I thought I’ve lost that spark…it would’ve been a pity then…” She threaded jeweled talons along the thick mass of my raven locks, carefully smoothing the silken strands as she murmured softly, making my blood run colder than the waters from a hundred frozen tundra’s.

            “I don’t want a broken, tamed, cowering falcon on my arm…I want the savage hunter that strikes fear into the hearts of even the most arrogant immortal…”

I tried to move my head away, sickened as always by the feel of her cold, lifeless limbs touching any part of me but like a sensitive vice, her fingers clamped around the delicate mane, keeping my head near as she bent close to my lips. I bit back a suitable reply with barely restrained savagery.

            “Free me and I shall give you a first hand demonstration of what a caged hunter does to deserving prey…I promise I would not spill even a single drop of your vile blood.”

            I believe you…all the same…I am no fool…

            Are you not? Must’ve mistaken you for the other fool-Witch here then…Tell me, Witch, why exactly am I here?

            You were my prize…they gave you to me…I own you…Body and spirit…for all eternity…all mine…always…mine and mine alone…they will never have you…

I gave a loud derisive laugh that faintly echoed all around us, amplifying my derision a thousand times over as I tossed raven locks and pinned her with unblinking golden eyes faintly smoldering with palpable hatred as I began to speak…

            “Yours? You’re an even bigger fool that I first thought…I will never be yours…I belong to no one…do you understand that? No one, be it Immortal or Damned could lay claim on me…I cannot be claimed… I BELONG TO NO ONE…”

I could see the confusion flash in her eyes momentarily at the strength of my conviction before calm assurance made her smile and reach for my cheeks once more. When she spoke I felt the faint spark of power crawling over my form and it was then that I realized that I have made another miscalculation.

            “See there? That is my proof of ownership…a proof far stronger than any metal or ward or lock…the chains that bind you to me will never be broken…not as long as the sun sets to herald you kind into existence…as  long as the essence of another’s life gives you breath…you are mine.”

Eyes glaring balefully at the fading light, the sun’s fading rays fell against my face for a moment, illuminating my gaze and allowing it to flare brilliantly like a flame as I felt it once again…the familiar, wretched feeling of being trapped once more…

            “I will find a way…make no mistake of that Witch…”

Slowly, the light withdrew and I felt my strength ebb and wither… with it my flesh turned rigid… muscles and tissue became unyielding…blood gradually eased in their constant flood…I felt my wings become laden…each quill and shaft felt heavier with each laborious breath drawn in through a chest that no longer moved…all that remained mobile was my mind and then darkness came and stole me once more.

The young Witch stood near the bound Immortal…running elegantly shaped digit across flesh that now stood still long enough to caress…touching her cool lips against flawless expanse of skin that now gave in…

She gave a loud sigh before resting her fair-haired head against a broad shoulder, wrapping her arms around a body that only yielded while it was trapped in living stone.

             “You are mine…if I could have you this way…even if only in this way…you are still mine…I will never let you go…”

I was in the midst of a sensual storm…the lips that brush against mine were feverish…insistent…demanding…as if it had every right…as if it knew that the claim was returned…acknowledged in full measure…undenied as only a rightful claim could be...

Who was that man…have I met him before...? And why would he kiss me like that...?

I felt my fingers--trembling--touch the warmed surface...hoping as if against the logic of hope to find some trace of further warmth...some lingering remnant of the man whose lips dared to steal her innocence...

Man?…my own voice mocked me in my shocked state…that is no mortal before you…claiming lips that had yet to be breeched…until now…

But if that was no man...I wondered yet again but before I could pursue that  train of thought I felt ice-cold talons take a hold of my wrist in a fierce grasp and start pulling me through the thick,murky darkness from whence I came.

"Had a nice dream?”

A quick glance and a sharp intake of breath was all that was needed and the spell of the dark caves broke. I suddenly found myself staring into a pair on intense jade-coloured eyes.The voice that spoke had the subtle chill of a thousand moons and it was just as deafening in its hushed tones.

“A-a-andrestea-a…!”

A smirk was immediately painted across thin,blood-tinted lips. Slowly, as if the very shadows from whence she stood refused to let her go, a small, child-like creature emerged.Careful,measured tread brought her closer to the light but the illumination proved anything but reassuring. Beneath the clear spectrum of the restoration room, her deep red hair was like newly-spilt blood…shrouding a body so pale it was almost doll-like.When she parted crimson lips, words flowed out like a river of frozen flames.

“What did I tell you about that name,hmmm?”

I gulped and almost winced at the tell-tale action.Few people could rattle my nerves but none more so than this tiny, elf-like apparition.Mustering my resolve, I tried to open my lips to speak once more,uttering the familiar response to the familiar reprimand and yet my body refused even the simplest command.Somehow,my senses were still reeling—trapped by the last vestiges of my unusual encounter. Taking a grateful draw of breath I tried once more.

“I didn’t see you come in Teie...”

“You wouldn’t..you were too preoccupied with that one-sided conversation you’re so fond of.”

“One-sided--?”

Another smirk came and went. Andrastea stalked the length on the room before settling, rightly so, on an elegant,wing-backed Queen Anne armchair. Crossing her legs, she propped her chin on the palm of one hand all the while keeping her predatory eyes trained steadily on my face.A smile that could only be called evil slashed across her lips before murmuring in a voice that haunts me still...

“Well? Care to tell me what that was?”

"It was just a dream...just a d-dream..."

"Some dream..."