Re: Prologue: Vezina
Nine years prior, four nights after Vezina's Embrace.
The pale, waning moon lay partially hidden behind clouds on the chill and wet spring night near the limestone caves which marked her haven. Her hunt had been fruitful, and she had done it alone, as bidden by her sire. She had stalked the land upon the back of a large wolf, the master of a nearby pack. With him as her savage steed, she had ridden many miles to an isolated farmstead, and once there had partaken of the farmer's eldest son, a strong, fair-haired boy of Saxon blood who mumbled in his sleep. A peasant, as she had been not long ago. Gyulu had suggested that she would do well to dine on finer meals, but admitted readily that quality was scarce in this foreign land. And yet, as of her rebirth, it was her land as well. She would have to learn its ways and embrace it.
Sadly, as intelligent as she was, she did not possess the ability to pick up the oddly mixed tongue of Saxon or Norman in a few short nights. It would be a long first year of inquiry and forced lessons from those captured mortals until she was ready to hunt in a civilized manner. Until then, she would walk the path of an entitled predator. Gyulu said that this was nothing to be bothered about - as she was now greater than humans, it was her right to walk into their domains and collect a tithe of blood as was her due.
The peasant boy had suited her purpose well enough. He hadn't even woken from his sleep as she bit his neck, sucking the sweet sanguine from his veins, making sure not to kill him, and to lick the wounds clean.
"Waste not of your flock," Gyulu had told her. "Keep regular meals, take care not to over-exert yourself, and you shall keep your beast at bay and your domain in good stead."
She trusted in her sire, and kept true to his advice. In life, he had been like a god unto her, and now, by unknown providence, she had been chosen to ascend and sit at his table, to share in his dark majesty. A minute did not pass in these early nights where she did not think of him, her thoughts turning to his strong, determined face, dark, knowing eyes, and warrior's physique. Even without drinking his blood, she was in total awe of him, but it did not escape her notice that an inner tug was shaping her in this night and the last, each time she had obeyed his command and lapped at his slit wrist.
His blood was binding her to him. Even if she held a momentary doubt or cynicism - particularly about the necessity for her long torture in the cave that had quite nearly driven her mad - she could barely muster the will to act upon these feelings, or even voice them. More and more, she found herself thinking upon him as her promised groom, her warrior-prince. Gladly now would she still give up her fledgling existence to prolong his, for his blood within her told her that she was truly nothing without him.
The ride back to the caves was uneventful, and the wolf she rode did not stop to bid her any form of farewell when she slid from its back and onto the rock-strewn edge of the gypsy camp. She saw the faces of the other mortals she had traveled with across the continent, noting how they averted their gazes when they saw her looking at them. Word had spread quickly. Vezina had been chosen by the master. Vezina was a strigoi, a vampire, an undead mistress that they must serve unquestioningly.
She remembered well what they were feeling. Fear and a desire to show that they were obedient. That they should be spared their insignificant lives and allowed to live like the dumb cattle that they were. They dare not speak to her. They dare not meet her gaze. To draw attention was to invite yourself into the touch of darkness. Obey the dark masters, but do not become them.
Vezina smiled. She was both damned and empowered in their eyes. Ceasing to be human. The men who had once lusted over her by the campfires, whom she had once had to fend off with a skinning knife, were especially awash with an aura of fear and kept their heads low. It would not help them. She had decided that when the mood struck her, she would visit them in turn, feeding off them to various degrees, depending on whether she enjoyed the sound of their begging.
The hulking form of Scorylo greeted her at the cave entrance. Tall, brawny, and imposing, the massive man wore a smile tonight - rare to see on him when he wasn't taking a knife or a scourge to some unfortunate welp. She had not forgotten his cruelty when he did such to her. She was certain that the fact she had been risen as his 'sister' still confused and rankled him, but tonight he seemed happy to see her.
"So you return, little one," he said, putting each of his giant hands on his hips and puffing out his chest. "The Master sent you away to ride a mangy cur because he had important business with his favored son."
"Is that so, brother? And where is Tarbus anyway?" She answered, trying to not show outward signs of concern. She had learned that a happy Scorylo usually meant impending bad news to whomever he was delivering it.
The mention of their silver-tongued sibling managed to put a momentary dent in Scorylo's smile, and he crossed his arms defensively across his bare upper body.
"I meant me, girl. Tonight, I was the first chosen to drink of Master Gyulu's blood for the third time. He says that he chose me, Scorylo, to be the first, because I am the strongest, the greatest warrior, his most prized childe."
The strong man harumphed and allowed himself to grin with mocking pride. "So much for Tarbus, that worm. He is only second chosen, and the fool almost left the camp tonight without even receiving the honor. I had to grab him and bring him before our Sire, even as he made every excuse under the stars. Had the Master, for some reason, not insisted upon bestowing him the honor as well, gladly would I have let him run off into the woods."
Vezina slowly nodded. A third drink of the blood. Her sire was binding all his childer to him. He had half-admitted as much to her, and what he had left unsaid, she had perceived in the growing obsession inside of her. The fool, Scorylo, had been easy to placate with words of honor and primacy. No doubt Tarbus had seen through it as much as Vezina did right now, and he had tried to flee, to maintain some small independence from Gyulu. But Scorylo had caught him before he left, guided by her sire's instructions. The image of Tarbus begrudgingly shackling himself to the Master amused her almost as much as did Scorylo's boasting.
"I am happy for you, brother, to hear that our sire values you so. You truly are the shield and sword of our Master." She inclined her head to him, receiving only a smirk of superiority in return. It didn't bother her that much. She saw the situation for what it was, and she was happy to have the warrior vampire underestimate her value and her capability. She had an advantage over Tarbus in this, because Scorylo had a litany of prejudices, one of which was his belief in the inferiority of her sex. That made Tarbus his number one enemy, which suited her fine.
"You know what this means, girl," he said, raising a meaty finger. "It means that what Scorylo says, is followed by you. I am first. You are last."
Vezina simply smiled and walked by him, but he grabbed her by the arm and held her fast. Her eyes narrowed.
"Say it," he said.
"Remember who fled from the fire, Scorylo," Vezina said icily. Her brother's grip tightened on her arm, but the fresh memory seemed to have a slight impact on him. "Gyulu has a purpose for each of us. In some things, you may come first, but in others you come last. So no, I do not think I shall say what you want to hear."
He snarled and put a hand around her neck.
"I could rip out your throat, peasant whore," Scorylo growled, getting that sadistic look in his eyes once again. In the limestone caves, as a mortal, she had cried and whimpered at the sight of this look, but she was a vampire now, not some little girl, and Gyulu had told her the truth of her blood, his blood, the blood of Caine.
Her skinning knife was in her hand and pressed against Scorylo's crotch in a flickering instant, and her blood began to shift inside of her, readying for a fight.
"And I could deny you the pleasure of whores for quite a long time, brother," she spat back.
"Brother, sister, I hope I'm not interrupting," Tarbus' silken voice interrupted them. He had resignation written across his face, unable to manage more than a forced smile as he regarded his two rival siblings threatening to tear each other apart. "But the Master requires Vezina in his private quarters. I am to escort her there immediately, throat intact I'm afraid."
Scorylo grunted, but did not immediately let go, his growing anger and resentment easily readable. He did not usually allow for anyone, let alone a woman, standing up to him without receiving some sort of punishment. He leaned in towards her, and his grip tightened further, testing her. She was up for it and the blade pressed upwards, threateningly.
Another blade was at Scorylo's neck, a sinister but ornate piece of craftwork in Tarbus' hands.
"I must insist about our sister's throat, the Master was specific about her unblemished health. Almost as if he had a notion you might start some trouble, dear brother. Now that I think about it though, our Sire made no mention as to the state of your manhood."
Scorylo's face scrunched in contained rage, but he abruptly let his hands unclasp from Vezina's throat and his eyes turned towards Tarbus with venom, which the latter ignored expertly.
"Thank you very much," Tarbus said, withdrawing is dagger. Vezina's knife was slower to sheath, and she may have left a tear in his breeches that the proud warrior would need to have mended before he strutted around with confidence.
They left Scorylo at the entrance to the caves, walking together down the winding tunnels, using a single lantern held at length on a pole to light their path. Tarbus was subdued and quiet, and this was just as unsettling as a happy Scorylo, but Vezina had guessed his mood by then.
"So you have had the honor of our Master's blood?" she asked, innocently.
"Indeed. Our Master is wise and powerful and not to be denied. Ever shall we serve him and gladly," he replied in a neutral tone, not sparing a glance at her. They passed by her own unfurnished chamber, which contained only the sacred pit of her blood-soaked earth and little else. With many years of excavation, perhaps it would turn into something more than a hole, but for now that was what it was. Only Gyulu's quarters, his library, and his antechamber had any sense of design or elegance at this point. Once they reached the antechamber, Tarbus gestured to the curtained archway.
"And here is where my duty with you ends, sweet sister. Do enjoy your time with the Master." He glanced at her with unmistakable condescension. While Tarbus did not make Scorylo's mistake in underestimating her, he strongly questioned why Gyulu had ever bothered giving her the gift. To him, it was insulting that a peasant girl who had not spent years as a trusted ghoul should be so freely given a reward of eternal unlife. To this, Vezina had no answer, so she offered none. Gyulu had is purpose for her and she did not question him.
She watched as the slender schemer walked back up to the exit, taking the lantern with him, leaving her in darkness, save for the glowing firelight beyond the curtain. She wondered about what it would be like, to feel Gyulu's blood within her once again. There was no denying that the first two times she had bit him were wondrous. The pleasure she had received and the pleasure she had seen upon his own face were unforgettable, intimate experiences the likes of which she had nothing at all to compare with. Each time she had felt more and more affection for him. Would drinking from him again result in her thinking of him always?
"Would it be any different than now?" She said aloud. "He is my Master. I am his bride. I should be devoted to him."
Shifting aside the curtain, she walked into the circular room, seeing her sire sitting upon his throne, dressed in the trappings of the high chieftain lineage from which he was descended. A bronze band was upon his brow, covered partially by the strands of long dark hair that he possessed. He was of a greater build than Tarbus, though much less than Scorylo. He had the bearing of a scholar-warrior, but above all else, a wild prince. Beyond this, Vezina knew that he possessed more knowledge than any mortal king, and that in the old country, he was a sorcerer of great power. She caught herself staring at him, admiring him, as if he were a dragon slaying hero stepping out of a tale and into her life.
Beside him were two goblets, streaked with crimson on the inside but otherwise emptied.
"Tonight is a night of great importance, my bride. Do you know why?"
Vezina shook her head.
"It is the spring equinox, a time of potency, a moment of balance. Spirits are strong on such nights. In the land of my sires, great works and rites would be reserved for this auspicious time. I intend to extend this tradition across the sea, to my new home, to your home."
He gestured to the smaller throne beside him and Vezina crossed the room and sat immediately beside him.
"Am I to drink of your blood, as Scorylo and Tarbus have?" she asked.
"Yes, but not in the same way or for the same purpose," Gyulu said, impassively. "My childer are an extension of myself, just as I was an extension of my own sire, and he to his sire before him, and so on, unto the Eldest. Scorylo is my strength and will to power personified. Tarbus is my elegance and my wits taken form, but you, Vezina, are different. You are to be my majesty and my knowledge, but more than that, you are to be my bride and my companion. To you will I talk and mentor and speak of the old secrets because you, even as a mortal, had the gift of perception and awareness that are necessary to comprehend me. To you and you alone, will I bare my own flesh to feed you."
He stood from his throne, and offered his hand to Vezina. She took it, instinctively, and let him draw her up.
"As your sire, I must expect absolute obedience."
"And I give it to you fr--" Vezina began, but stopped when he held up a hand.
"Of course, you obey me now, Vezina. You might even obey me for a hundred years or more. Were my own sire still walking the night, I would fight for his honor and spill blood in his name. But you do not yet understand time as a Cainite. Your mind and attitude will change. You will lose sight of the lessons learned in your mortal life, and then you will forget the lessons that even I teach you."
"No, Master I wouldn't."
Gyulu took his childe's chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding her face up to his.
"I believe that you think so, my childe. I truly do. But you cannot know what the years will do to you. Not yet. I myself have forgotten many things that I once thought were too basic to forget - because they are essential things to a human being. I have forgotten what it means to be physically tired, and what the difference in taste is of venison or forest berries. I have even forgotten what it is to desire the touch of a woman."
Vezina's brow furrowed. What was her Master saying?
"Do you not desire me, my sire?" She asked tentatively.
"Please do not take affront, Vezina. You are my bride, and what I desire of you is your obedience and your willingness to partake in this role, even if I am unable to be a mortal's expectation of a husband to you. In return for this, I give you life unending and knowledge that a precious few in this world are privy to, secrets of Clan Tzimisce that those outside of our bloodline must never know. I give you a place at my side and the right to rule the night in my name and in yours."
"I am blessed by your gifts, sire," Vezina said, her face now cupped by Gyulu's hand. "And I shall be your bride."
"Then for your promise I give you one more gift, befitting a bride of my blood," Gyulu said. "Walk with me to my chamber."
***To be continued...***
