- - Mythics

Chapter One

An Introduction

First and foremost, I’d like to make it clear that all people have different views on vampires, the so called ‘keepers of the night.’ Therefore, I must make it clear that you may not understand what kind of ‘creature’ I am.
Murderous as the common mortals think us to be, we are (save the occasional few) very peaceful beings that were ‘cursed’ with the life of vampirism. We aren’t evil spirits, minions of the Dark Lord, or whatever you wish to believe. We are usually just victims of time and location.
My situation at the time didn’t look all that great. I was standing in a dark hall with two freshly dead mortals before me.
Their deaths, I regret to say, were caused by my fault, and my fault alone.
One of them, on the right laying next to an overly large candelabra, was a charming young man that I had befriended earlier that night. The other, I assume, was his mate. She mustn’t have been too bright, but she was a sight to behold. Her hair was a lovely amber, and her facial features were practically incomparable.
Now, because of my comment of how...idiotic she must have been, you must realize that I don’t look down my nose at mortals, but I don’t understand their way of thinking. Alas, at that moment, I hadn’t time to comprehend much of anything when a single child about the age of four or five came upon the terribly ironic scene. Me, my elegant fangs hanging over my lower lip, and presumably his two parents dead on the floor...
He let out a wale of despair and before I could say ‘I didn’t do it’, I was whisked away by a group of men, and was chained to a wall some random castle’s dungeon, awaiting my execution.
Totally misunderstood and convinced that I was going to die as I hung from a wall by rusted chains, alone in a dark prison of stone while my beloved home sat somewhere above me, safely away from the mess I had gotten myself into...I couldn’t help but assume that my life was forfeit. Everything leading up to that moment was totally bizarre, yet wasn’t unusual. Everything complicated is so easy if looked upon from a different perspective, however, when you’ve become accustomed to being in such a place as I was in now, you come to find that even the most complicated of simple things are just annoying things that cause events that are either catastrophic or just...leaches and lemmings that follow you everywhere... Then again...what can you expect?
Thinking in that pit of stone and metal bars wasn’t easy, let me tell you.
For one, there was a leak of a rancid green liquid, causing an annoying ‘drip, drip’ as the droplets hit the floor and rotted away the flagstones. The sound itself nearly drove me insane, but the smell pushed me beyond that point.
Anyway...before I could get my mind to process my situation, a rat appeared on the other side of the bars.
It blinked a few times, tilted it’s greasy black head to one side, and laughed. Yes, the little rodent laughed at me.
I glared and hissed at it, “You’re not very nice...”
It grinned, it’s beady eyes gleaming, “I know.”
“I don’t think I like you anymore. You’re a smelly, sneaky, not very nice rodent who overly uses hair grease.”
It stuck it’s tongue out at me and scampered away.
“No! Wait! I didn’t meant it! Come back!”
The rat peaked around the corner and rubbed one of it’s paws over it’s eyes, “Are you sure you want me back, or are you just going to beat me down again?”
I sighed. He always could find a way to make me feel bad, “Please, Arkath...help me?”
He smiled and disappeared again.
I shifted my chains, my fingers running over a slimy wall. “Eww...”
“Bid goo fiss ‘ee?”
I raised my eyebrow as the rat came screaming towards me, through the bars and stopping at my feet, keys locked tightly in it’s jaws.
Such odd things, rats are...hideously ugly, though, very useful for experimentation and make very good pets...
“Gar! I love you Arkath!” I squeaked, not trying to be loud and announce the rat’s presence, but I could barely hold back the relief I felt when he came back with the gleam of a golden key ring coming from his mouth.
The rat stood up and closed it’s little eyes, it’s body began to grow and quickly shifted into a more human-esque form with and extremely dark blue aura.
He spat the keys into a pale hand and rubbed at his fangs with the other, “You’ve got to stop doing this, Vessa.” He shook his head and winked, “And I know you love me, everyone does.” He grinned, “But don’t throw those words around until you actually mean it.”
“Ok fine...but anyway...I didn’t kill that couple...”
“What a way to change topics.”
“You know I didn’t!”
“Alrighty.”
“You think I did?!?!?!”
He laughed slightly and pushed his greasy black hair out of his yellow, cat-like eyes as he unlocked the cuffs that held me to the wall. “I meant that you need to stop being in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’re going to have a sharp object through your heart and your head at your feet if you don’t stop hanging around those people.”
I, naturally, was more then slightly annoyed by this. He had no right to tell me to stop doing something that he knew I wouldn’t.
I have a that sort of ‘talent’. The kind of talent that leads to unfortunate happenings and becoming the laughing stalk in the center of a large crowd of faces that are unfamiliar. Some would say I’m cursed, others say that my life’s mistakes were self inflicted, but for now, I’m going to blame Karma. I have bad Karma, that’s my story, and I’m sticking to it.
“Come on, Change already! We’ve got to get to Orlando if we’re goin to convince the townspeople that you didn’t kill the humans.”
To speak the truth, I didn’t really know why he cared so much. This type of thing happened too often. I got out of it too often. And yet, Arkath was still worried about my head and heart. And...I almost hated to admit it, but secretly, I enjoyed his concern.
He had already transformed back into a rat as my form melted away into an eagle.
‘Why aren’t they bats? Aren’t vampires supposed to change into bats?’ This question may or may not be appearing in your mortal mind, but as I aforementioned, all people have different views on vampires, and now I’d like to add, that, being one of them, it varies. Some of your folk-lore is true, some of it not. And the majority...well, that hasn’t been written, for, human people derive fun from the fables, legends and myths of the blood-thirsty creatures that hunt for human flesh in the night.
Don’t get me wrong, we do need to feed; it’s just that, most of us don’t feed on humans. I, for example, only feed on small woodland creatures and the occasional unicorn. Every now and then I find a way to get my hands on a large serpent...or basilisk, what you wish to call it is all up to you.
Then again, don’t think I’m speaking for every vampire alive, as there are those who drink mortal blood, which sickens me to the core. We are blood-suckers, yes. We need blood to survive, yes. Most of us like humans, some like humans for dinner. I personally wouldn’t eat a human unless it was absolutely necessary because I myself would rather be human than what I am...but I’m stuck with what I’ve got so I’m going to square with that for now.
Anyhow, you may be thinking, ‘Where does she live? Romania?’ because of my mentioning of what most of us vampires do eat, and honestly if you think there are unicorns in Romania you’ve got another thing coming.
I don’t live in Romania, nor do I believe that there’s such a place, for, I have never heard of such a place in existence within the kingdom of Braisantia. I suppose there are a few fairy tale novels out there that make the place sound real...but in my world, ‘Romania’ is just another make-believe place.
“What are you doing? We could have been there and back by now! I don’t know why we’d come back... but still! We could have been there and much elsewhere by now!” Arkath’s words broke through my thoughts and I, naturally, was slightly angered. Never the less, he was right.
I landed and let him aboard my back.
Although I love the ability to change into an eagle at any time (save for the instances when I am bound to a wall or some other sort of contraption.) I hate it ever so much when I am used as a tool of transportation, such as a horse usually is. I do not understand why mortals, and many other creatures, are so anxious to fly. It’s a very dangerous thing, and the only creatures that are remotely like humans that have the capability of flight are we vampires, angels, some demons, and harpies, vicious monstrosities about which the less said the better.
With Arkath aboard my feathered back, I flew out between the bars of the overly large cage, up a flight of stairs and out into a hall.
I flew down and hid behind a tapestry before peaking around it and watching random knights, squires, and servants run around trying to get their chores done.
Arkath hopped off my back and scampered across the floor, looking for the best way of escape.
For a few moments, he vanished from my view and left me alone with nothing to do besides hide behind an overly large rug that hung from the wall.
After a while, he came back, following the lead of a large gray rat.
He came up to me, “Right, come on Vessa...Since you’re the biggest, you’ve got to keep the sharpest eye. We’re going back into the dungeon, but...don’t get caught.”
“Back to the dungeons?...Why...?”
He shook his head, “Come on, we’ve got to hurry, just follow me.”
And so, we started off on another endeavor to get out of the palace by going back to where we started.
The large gray rat lead us to a prison cell at the very end of the dungeon and motioned for us to enter. Naturally, we did, and he quickly disappeared into a hole in the wall that looked far too small for his size, but, he managed to get through.
After about 10 minutes, I was beginning to assume that the little vermin had run off, leaving us in the prison cell just to be caught again.
However, just when I was about to leave the dungeon and find my own way out, the bricks on the wall started to shift.
Dust fell like waterfalls from the cracks as the bricks moved aside to reveal a secret passage.
The gray rat reappeared and squeaked before heading deeper into the passage. Arkath trotted off after him, and not wanting to be left alone, I followed as well. If I had thought the cage I was in was bad, it was nothing compared to the catacombs I found myself in.
The air was thick and tasted like decay, and it was so dark that if I crossed my eyes, I couldn’t see the outline of my beak.
Now, not being able to see your hand directly in front of your face with your eyes open and straining is scary enough...but not to be able to see your own nose, something so close to your face in the pitch black oblivion of only God knows where, was beyond scary...it was down right terrifying. And with the eyes of an eagle! An eagle’s eye-sight is somewhere close to ten times as powerful as any mortals! So the situation would have been ten times worse for you, I imagine...
Anyway....
I reached out a clawed foot and grabbed onto Arkath’s tail. Or...I was assuming it was Arkath’s tail as of course I couldn’t truly see what it was or who it belonged to.
“Don’t worry Vanessa, we’re almost to an opening.”
Right. ‘Don’t worry Vanessa.’ ‘Trust the gray rat that you’ve never met before in your life that’s leading you 600 miles below the ground to your death as you will be lost in the labyrinth-like catacombs until you die of starvation and no one will be able to hear your cries for help as you are 600 miles below the ground.’
Claustrophobia was slowly creeping upon me as my eyes darted around in the darkness, watching the black itself soak up any possible light, even though there was none.
We rounded a corner and I fell over, blinded by the soft light that filtered through a crack in the wall.
Arkath gave me a strange look and shook his head at me, “...Women.”
I hopped up and nipped his ear with the sharp point of my beak, “What’s that supposed to mean?!?!”
He shook his little greasy black head and shrugged, “Nothing.”
“Right.”
The little gray rat came into view once more and he clawed at the hole in the wall.
The opening gradually got bigger until he disappeared into it.
Again, Arkath and I sat and waited for our guide to return, and fortunately, he didn’t take as long as he had before.
The seemingly solid rock wall beside us shifted to the side revealing a large opening for us to exit through.
Arkath thanked the rat and we climbed out into the center of the main road of town.
Obviously that little crack had once lead to a sewer of some sort, but I didn’t truly wish to think of that as the thought isn’t a pleasant one...
Arkath shifted into his vampire form, and I quickly mimicked him.
He folded his arms over his chest with a cocky grin, “Well, that was easy.”
I couldn’t help but to heave a sigh of relief. “Yes...it was.”
We had escaped that mess virtually undetected.
It is still a mystery to me of how the royals and wealthy nobles spend so much money on security, and yet, they are robbed from the most as things just sneak past them without so much as a double take. The whole thing baffles me...
“Should we walk to the cathedral? ...We’d get there faster if we flew.”
“Yes, go ahead, Arkath. Just assume that I’m going to give you a ride so you don’t have to work your little legs off.”
He smiled and gave a suave grin, flashing his fangs and giving a wink, “You know you want to give me a lift...”
Men are so manipulative! I mean for the love of God, they’re always getting what they want in some way or another. All they have to do is give those damn puppy eyes and they can rule the world if they want to.
“We’ll walk halfway, we’ll fly the rest.”
He grinned, “Sounds like a plan.”

* * *

We began our sprint through the small country of Briasantia, running passed cottages of oak and straw and dodging into alleys when patrol officers strolled by, gradually making our way to the heart of the kingdom.
The cobblestone streets faded into dirt paths with light blue pebbles scattered throughout them, gleaming like diamonds as the sun slowly began to rise into the new day.
“Can we fly now? I love the view of this from up above...”
“Sure...I guess so.” I looked around for a moment to make sure no one was watching before I closed my eyes lightly.
A golden light started at my feet and slowly moved up my legs and up to my head until it had enveloped my entire body.
My fingers became long, spindly digits and slowly were masked by rapidly growing golden-white feathers.
My shoulders hunched and my raven curls faded away as slowly I began to shrink, my stereotypical perfect body fading into that of a large bird. My legs shifted into long claws, talons falling from unseen sheaths.
Finally, my face contorted and a long curved beak found it’s place in the center of my feathered face.
I looked up at Arkath and waited, blinking in amusement as he began to transform.
I had never before actually watched closely to his way of Changing.
First, he crouched and rested his chin on his chest. Bluish gray light consumed him just as the golden light had done so to me, however, instead of starting with his hands, he started with his head.
His hair blew back, seemingly taking his ears with it as they became large and covered in black fur.
His nose lengthened and whiskers sprouted from his slender cheeks.
He flexed his hands, his fingers shortening and growing rounder as his thumbs moved up his arms as they grew short, skinny, and also covered in black fur.
His well toned abdomen faded into a plumb rat body and his legs shriveled to finish off his look of rodenthood.
Rats are such interesting creatures....
I placed a wing on the ground and let him scamper up onto my back before launching myself into the air, flying higher and higher until I caught the perfect draft and settled into a nice glide.
Arkath was right. The view of the cathedral and its surroundings were glorious from the ground, but in the sky...It seemed as though a little piece of Heaven fell from the skies and landed in the middle of a godforsaken kingdom. It sure brightened the place up a lot.
Around the cathedral was a large circular path, also covered in those light blue pebbles that made the ground look like water.
Other paths lead from the circle in an almost Celtic pattern as it made it’s way through countless rose and lily gardens, wound around weeping willows and an amazing arrangement of wild flowers and herbal remedies.
My eyes moved to the cathedral itself, the largest building within the kingdom of Braisantia and was most definitely it’s pride, as it seemed the only place within it that was untouched by sin of some sort or another.
Four large spires sat at each corner of the building, and the curved roof met at the center and bloomed into a large dome which was plated with gold and was laced with silver. At the top of which sat the most spectacular cross I had ever seen, and most certainly the largest.
The white marble structure added to the splendor of the emerald tinted stone that made up the entirety of the church.
I went into a slight dive, intending to land at the top of a short flight of stairs, however my plan was cut short as the ever knowing Arkath decided to transform in midair.
I fell from the sky with a half rat half vampire on my still only eagle back and was buried beneath Arkath’s weight which nearly crushed me to death.
“Phaw! So sorry Vessa...It won’t happen again...Now, hurry up...we’ve got to find Orlando...”
Now, this hadn’t been the first time this had happened, nor had it been the first time he promised that he wouldn’t do it again...alas, what was he to say? ‘I’m sorry, I’ll probably do it again...and most likely in the near future, so, prepare yourself.’
Come to think of it...he should have said that...it was more of the truth, and I would be able to remember in time to warn him not to do so.
I Changed and popped my back. Every now and then, (in eagle form) I’ll shift a bone the wrong way and it can lead to a very painful moment...
The High Priest stepped out of the cathedral, my favorite golden cross of his, nigh 12 inches long, hanging from a golden chain about his neck.
As you read on, you will find that I will stop to point out something that is often incorrect about the vampire species.
I like garlic salad with salt. I believed in the Christian God, which, to my astonishment as I look back on my life, caused my vampirism. So, crosses don’t harm me at all, I find them very beautiful. They remind me why I’m a vampire, and why my existence on this earth is so important to me and the rest of the vampiric race.
I do not know exactly what Arkath believes...I asked him once, but all he said was this, ‘The world is sick. Everything that is told, written in your holy book, is twisted. Warped so to say. The truth was corrupted to make others believe that they are not alone.’
So...he never really did answer my question, but, I don’t think he believes in the Christian God...Or any God for that matter...yet, it is only a guess.
“What is it this time? Who is she accused of slaying now? Or did she get drunk again and burn down another Inn? Don’t tell me...it was Samble’s Inn? That poor man...”
When Orlando spoke, it startled me, “I didn’t mean to kill them...It was completely indirect.”
He came trotting down the ivory steps towards us, his ceremonial garb flowing gracefully with his movements, “Oh good. Samble still has a hom--WHAT?? You actually took the lives of innocent people? Vanessa!”
“No! I wouldn’t do such a thing. Shall I explain what happened, Father Orlando?”
“Yes, of course! Please do! I mean...yes, do, my child, If you have sinned....”
Arkath shot me an angry glance, and I couldn’t blame him. Before hand, I had told him that I hadn’t killed them...but, in reality...in my perspective...I had.

* * *

It all started when I was walking down a dark hall in the middle of the night...er...early morning in an Inn that I was taking residence in.
Down in the pub about 7 hours before, I met the aforementioned young man, over a goblet of red wine.
The pub was overly crowded, as usual, and I found myself in the far corner watching the people jump around, dancing in drunken bliss when the young man came up to me and asked if the empty seat beside me was taken. Obviously, it wasn’t, and I invited him to sit and keep me company as he was presumably alone.
We sat and talked about nothing while watching a small group of people form a ring in the center of the room to start a circular dance, their shadows leaping around the walls as the candles throughout the room cast a bright yellow glow and the scent of vanilla and whiskey.
Every now and then the dancing would stop and all would gather on the opposite side of the room to watch a man with a coat of every color dance around throwing sparkling sand into the air and watching it fall into mist as he told stories of grand adventures, heroes and treasure. After every story, however, the crooked old man would pull out a new instrument and perform a little tune while doing a jig. Like a court jester performing before a king, he continued without a single flaw, making the crowd clap and jeer as they filled their large bellies all the more with food and drink.
The young man and I, despite the encouragement of the enthusiastic crowd, ignored the excitement and continued to talk about nothing.
And by nothing, if your mortal mind doesn’t make the connection, is of course something, but nothing important. Such as debating the true color of the sky and why dragons are called dragons...perhaps the word is Latin based...most things are, come to think of it...then again, it almost sounds like Keerg...
Somehow, we stumbled into the topic of relationships, but neither of us seemed to have one. It wasn’t until I looked at his finger that I learned he was married as he hadn’t spoken of being involved with someone and certainly didn’t act like it. I’m glad that I noticed such before I had let myself flirt as I do with most gentlemen that wonder in my direction in a bar...It’s a very fun sport, you should try it sometime...
Anyway, he was a very kindly gentleman, and proved beyond my first impression of him to be so when he escorted me to my room when I found myself too drunk to move without a helping hand. This, I am proud to say, is something VERY rare, in fact...that day, was the first time it happened...unless you count the time Arkath spiked my fruit punch that lead to arson and the destruction of the Rosemary Inn on the far side of town....But I don’t count that because I didn’t know my drink had been contaminated. It was Arkath’s fault. Blame him.
The young man came in to my room, and we began to talk about politics. Twas the only thing that could be done. It was the only time when such a topic could be welcomed, when one’s drunk.
After agreeing that the royals were completely over our heads and that they were so insane that there wasn’t a single mortal ruler alive that was worthy of his or her title, we became friends.
It was nigh midnight when he finally said that he had to take his leave, and having spoken to him for over five hours straight, I thought his plan to be a good one.
I left the room with him as it’s not always safe to leave a hotel room alone in the middle of the night, and we entered the hall. It was terribly dark, and we could barely see each other, let alone our hands in front of our faces. We practically had to feel our way down the hall by touching the walls and shaking our feet ahead of us to make sure there was nothing in front of us. And just as a safety precaution, we held onto each other for support.
As we stumbled towards his room, our arms locked together, a pale yellow-white light came on from behind us. We turned sharply to see an elegant woman in a dark ceremonial robe holding a newly lit torch...not to mention that she had the most aggravated, almost constipated look of anger I’d ever seen.
And when the light gleamed off of my fangs, it didn’t make the situation any better.
Before I knew it, she was screaming at us, “How could you do this to me?! I-I...I can’t believe this!! HOW COULD YOU?!”
She pulled out a knife about twelve inches long and dropped the torch, darkening the hall once again as it outted itself on the floor.
I suppose she lunged at us...it all happened so quickly, I am still shaken by it. I scrambled out of the way at what seems the perfect time...but when my eyes finally adjusted to the black of the hall around me...
I come to think of it as a freak accident, and find it slightly amusing. In the dark, the friendly gentleman by the name of James Alexander, had managed to find himself a weapon, a candle holder, which mildly resembled a pitchfork.
Unfortunately for him, the candle holder speared the woman through the chest, just as her knife sank into his.
They fell to the floor, instantly dead, with me looking upon them in pity, fear, disgust and morbid amusement.
There hence, she murdered her love when she thought he was having an affair with me, well, it is that with which I assume.
And I must say, that at that moment, I realized that there was very little upside in getting drunk with a married man in a hotel when psychopathic spouses are lurking around with knives and are possessed by pure, incessant evil.
Then again, out of happenstance, I so often find myself in the midst of hazardous ‘adventures’, more like pre-warned disasters, despite all of my whole-hearted attempts to try and stay out of harm’s way. Misfortune is like my shadow. It mocks my every action and ends up tripping me, watching me land on my face, then kicks me when I’m down before laughing when I try to get up.
The racket that was caused by the ironically eccentric deaths summoned the aforementioned child, a small boy that looked much like his parents, and was equally beautiful. When he saw his mother and father’s impaled bodies, he screamed bloody murder like a little school girl with a toad on her head, and fell over unconscious.
It is still a wonder to me why others hadn’t come out of their rooms when the yelling was happening, the clanks of the metal against bone, then the sound of quick death...It had to be a sharp scream from a child that would only get attention pulled upon the situation.
I suppose it could have been that people were murdered in that hall more often then not.
And I thought Samble’s Inn was a safe haven...
Well, from any mortal’s perspective, I looked to be the murderer that was about to turn on the small boy when I was actually checking to see if he was harmed, thinking that maybe he stepped on his mother’s knife, and hoped he hadn’t gotten hurt as well.
To make a short point, I had no idea that when I sat down to talk about Egro’eg Hubs, the political leader in Briasantia, with James that I would find myself, barely five hours later, being accused of being his murderer after witnessing his bizarre and gory end.
On the other hand, I should have figured that something bad was to happen. The night had gone so well that it couldn’t have ended good. And if I had taken a moment to consider that fact before jumping up and suggesting I should go with him to make sure he arrived safe in his room, I wouldn’t have been surprised to realize that I shouldn’t have after all.
Before I knew it, I was whisked away to the dungeon, so on, and so forth.
Through it all, it is most peculiar to me, as to why James Alexander’s wife was up in the middle of the night, waiting in the darkness of the hallway with a knife and an unlit torch, expecting to see him with another woman, and was fully prepared to kill him.
Honestly, I assume that she had planned on killing him anyway, whether he was with another or not. At least the way it had turned out, he knew that she had a reason for over reacting, even though her assumptions were incorrect...
And it is that of which I told Father Orlando.

* * *

“Vanessa, you didn’t kill ‘em. ...I mean...My child, you aren’t a murderer. It wasn’t you who slayed that couple.”
“Yes, I know Orlando, but you do realize, that if I hadn’t been there, they may still be alive?”
He frowned at me, narrowing his eyes, his brown linen hood falling lower into his face, hiding his bald head and his bushy eyebrows, “And you, sweetheart... I mean...my child, must realize that if she hadn’t assumed that she was being tricked, her husband having an affair, then they wouldn’t be dead.”
Arkath put a hand on my shoulder, “They are just psychos...don’t worry about them, Vanessa.”
I just shook it off. Orlando would convince everyone that everything was fine, and that I didn’t kill anyone, it just appeared that I had. Everything would work itself out, and I would be free to walk, completely unscathed.
“Vanessa...I do believe your story...Alas, I can’t get you out of this one. The people know that you’ve been accused of many crimes, they’ve become suspicious of my honesty. They don’t realize what you are, for, you’ve hidden it so well. I fear that something terrible will come from your presence if you stay. Not to mention that you are an escapee. Nothing looks more guilty than someone who breaks out of prison. ...I fear that you must leave Braisantia.”
Normally, I would have reacted in a way of confusion, instead...
Well, I can’t remember exactly what was going through my mind, as I succumbed to a swirling blackness that burst from behind my eyes as I fell forward unconscious, landing with a hard smack against the ground at Orlando’s bare toes and wooden sandals.

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