Monday, November 05, 2007

The Vampiric Chronicles Part Twenty: Mark's Past

A little deviation from the current darkness as Mark is left in the Manor all by himself... *giggles*

A tempest had ensued from the storm that assailed the region and as dawn started to draw closer a messenger raven barely made it through the only open outlets of the Manor - the chimney - and landed on Mark's study table before collapsing in the heaviness of the rains. The raven bore a dampened note in its claws, which Mark read. The letter was a water-impervious-enchanted paper note written in Sandra's hand, stating that their stay in the abode of the Witch Kriselle would be extended due to the unforgiving nature of the tempest. Mark shrugged the letter off, now walking towards his bedroom.

Rain... how strongly the rains reminded Mark of his ordination to the Legion of Blood. He can remember it all to clearly as he viewed the storm-stricken windows, the panels almost giving way as the high winds punished it.

*****

It had been several generations already, Mark thought, and quite a long time it had been for him to be walking the darkness of the night, slaying or converting countless victims to his charge. He had made quite a handful of vampires himself, although none as close and as interesting as his friend and apprentice vampire John. Perhaps the event of John's ordination to the Legion was a strong reminder of the similar fate he suffered in the hands of his own maker.

He lived the life of a nobleman himself, the very Manor where he lives a living testament of his family's wealth and fortune, amassed from riches that his family had plundered from countless conquests during the Middle Ages. Truly their fortune was unsurpassed that his family held high influence in the small society of the town.

During one particular ball organized by a friend, Mark had the opportunity to meet up with a gentleman of equal upbringing as he is, that in itself being mysterious already, since there are a few nobilities in their town. The name of the man was Matthew.

Mystified as Mark was by his new friend's identity, nevertheless the two forged a friendship that was perhaps stronger than what he and John had forged by themselves. Although Matthew only favored meeting up for balls or celebrations in the evenings, Mark never had suspicions - until the night of his conversion.

It was a tempestuous evening, much like what he had experienced during his serious chat with Count Arcanum and Countess Cassandra, and he and his friend Matthew were walking towards his Manor, having offered his friend a place to stay, when his friend suddenly pulled him towards a tree and pinned him in place, a queer gaze locking their eyes in place.

Wild thoughts raced across Mark's mind at his friend's actions, and his eyes widened with horror as his friend revealed its true identity - it was a vampire, and one of the First Generation Vampires at that, those descending from the tainted bloodlines that even surpass Count Arcanum's (since the current Great Count of the Legion descends at a bloodline several generations after Matthew's, the older Great Counts having died off). Without another word, Matthew plunged into Mark's neck and gave his friend a loving bite that settled in five seconds of pain for Mark, followed by five seconds of bliss, then a darker five seconds of settling bloodlust - also known as the Vampire's First Fifteen.

Overwhelmed by insane bloodlust, as his maker was a First Generation Vampire (in concept these vampires bring forth serious starts to their new apprentices), he and his friend stormed their Manor and killed off his own parents and sisters, lost in his hunger for blood.

*****

Now, as Mark recalls everything, all this began with what his friend had brought him, and as he contemplates on it, hate once again boils deep inside him, hence he retained a vow he made when he made John a part of the Legion: never to go by his older friend's brutality.

And now that the Prophecy settles itself on their house as well, everything seems so surreal to him... thus he retired to bed, his head spinning with his thoughts.

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