Document 16 out of 48 by Sandra Leigh Wagner.

SciFi and Fantasy Stories: In the Shadow of Death p2

Installment two of Alia's narration. This one will require some coaxing to get me to post more, as this is all I have at the moment. THis is not to say that with proper motivation and inspiration I won't write more. In fact, when Alia wants to be written, she WILL be written. ANd she needs very little encouragement. (I on the other hand, need lots of it)

Main Category: Horror

Sub-categories: Dark, Gothic Vampires


	2The Dance of Shadows : : Again, I entered training. This time in how He wished to be served. It took me three years to earn release from the oubliette, carried out as I had been carried in, in the embrace of the shadows He walked. His powers were something I had not been prepared for or told about. In all my years I have never seen another like Him, not even His own children had that ability. What cemented in me His godhead was proof of my only fragment of philosophy: If it cannot be touched it cannot be killed and if it cannot be killed but it can be seen, then it is truly a god. And what was better was that this god was ever present. He knew my every thought it seemed and yet was near enough to touch and bestow upon me the occasional caresses as I earned them. Unlike my sire, I knew the touch of His skin on mine, cold as that was, rare as that was. Not that He ever used me sexually. In fact, I was forbidden such attentions. No one but He was permitted to touch me, and so I craved His touch all the more. My love for Him was a physical, all consuming, fanatical love. Complete devotion. And, though I tested Him, I would have fallen upon my own blade to please Him. : : For eight years I slept on the floor outside His door, blocking it from any who would enter by day. Then I was permitted to sleep within His room, on a rug at the foot of His bed. Twenty years later I was rewarded for my loyalty and allowed to sleep across the foot of that enormous bed, like a favorite hound might be. By then He had learned how attentive I was, even in that slumber of death that grips us in the day. If a butterfly landed in the room I woke, and any stirrings I made woke Him. And, although He was so in tune with the night and shadows that His body was torturously slow to stir by day, His mind was active and sharp and His powers were governed solely by His mind. : : In 1022, Vittorio was ready to let the rest of the vampiric community know I was still here. I had been carefully hidden away for the last thirty odd years, forbidden to be seen by any who were not under His complete control. The only vampire who saw me in this whole time, was Cassandra. Not even Antillius was privy to my continued existence. Cassandra only knew because she lived in the Palazzo, and, of course, she saw everything. She was a peculiar woman, completely blind, and yet her senses were so keen she could feel a room without her hands, and know roughly what it contained and who. Even I could not hide from her. : : It was partly from her that I learned one of the most important lessons a vampire learned upon coming to the city. She had three simple rules: do not leave the palazzo, do not go outside, and stay out of the water. The first two were redundant as far as I was concerned, and irrelevant to my existence. The third was essential. There were things that lived in the canals, things which had become addicted to the blood of the undead which had flooded the waters over two centuries before. They never seemed to trouble the human populace over much, but they hungered for vampires. Any who fell in had mere moments to escape, and any who were in when blood hit the water did not even have that moment. Only Marco seemed capable of traversing the canals from below the water without difficulty. In fact, they seemed to ignore him and his small brood, all of whom developed vague fish like qualities, which might have accounted for their immunity. : : I remember one peculiar night when I was running unseen throughout the city, mostly over the rooftops, acquainting myself with Venice. It was near the university. Normally I skirted that area, there being little to interest me, but an argument was heard. I stole near, listening to unclear words of what was quickly heating up from a mere debate level to something more on keel with a declaration of war. By the time I had reached the pair, it had escalated to combat. Actually, the larger of the two tried to attack a monk, but the monk simply picked him up, carried him across the courtyard, and tossed him into the canal. After the water stopped seething and frothing, the monk turned and walked back into the university and I saw that it was Casseadorus. : : But back to my reappearance in Vittorio’s court and the stir it caused. I had been ordered to wander the city unseen, to get into every gathering, to find and slip into the homes of almost every vampire in the city and spy upon them in their unguarded moments. I spent two weeks as a spy. He did not tell me where any one of them lived, though He knew most. It was a testing of me which I passed admirably, though I stayed away from that of the inner court, and wisely so. I reported all that I saw and heard. There was a vampire who was attached to Valencia’s line, albeit distantly, by about three generations, I believe it was, who I overheard deep in conversation with a local noblemen. They had been arguing about political things, and the conversation, whose details have long since made themselves irrelevant and wholly forgettable, marked them traitorous, or in some way or another deserving of destruction. I was ordered to destroy them both and return with evidence in the middle of court. Vittorio wanted my appearance to be sudden and dramatic. I did not disappoint. : : I do not remember the details of the kills. There have been so many that only a rare few stand out. The only thing that made these two important was the fact that they were my first for Vittorio. I remember I took the heads and brought them with me to court, and that I had been forced to exert a significant portion of my strength and that, coupled with carrying two heads dripping blood one of which was vampiric, left me hungry. I kept my presence hidden even as I walked amongst the mingled guests, headed for the throne. I could have entered through any number of ways, by then I knew them all. But I chose the main entrance for pure effect. : : I did not have to wait long. A woman in a full gown crossed my wake and felt her silk shoe slip in the blood drippings. She looked down, lifting the hems of her expensive skirts and turned, followed the blood trail back to the door, then turned again to watch it approach the dais. Her eyes were riveted as she saw a splatter of blood appear from mid air and hit the floor. It was at that moment that I chose to be seen, standing in the middle of the great hall, head slightly bowed, a head in each fist. I looked up slowly, a smile broadening on my face in delight as everyone scattered. A few fools drew their swords and took up defensive stances. I moved to approach Vittorio’s throne and found my direct path blocked by a half circle of armed men. Not the official palace guard, mind you. They had yet to move. Antillius had started to move to join them, but his sire’s finger moved and he froze, stepped back to watch obediently. : : I did not stop my approach. In fact, I smiled all the more, shook my head ever so slightly at their foolishness. As soon as I stepped within reach of their blades, I threw the heads high into the air. Their tumbling arc rained tiny droplets of blood on everyone within thirty yards. Hands now empty, I drew two curved Persian blades, and sliced both of the forefront men twice across the chest and sheathed the swords before they could shift their eyes from the flying heads back to me. They fell aside like scythed wheat, clutching the long shallow cuts and screaming in agony. I proceeded forward, catching each head by its hair as it fell and continued until I was at Vittorio’s feet. I fell to both knees, heedless of the pain of doing so on the unforgiving marble and offered up both heads, my own demurely lowered. : : “Here are the two traitors as you have requested, master,” I said, loud enough for my voice to carry in the now silent chamber, silent but for my two newest victims. : : He stared down at me imperiously, twisting His mouth in what could have been a frown, but I could feel in my deepest heart that He was pleased with me. “Did I tell you,” He began slowly, “that I wanted them alive?” : : I paused, raised my head, though I never met His eyes, and appeared thoughtful. “No, Ostad. You did not.” He did not object to my use of the Persian word for Master. He knew the tongue and the Word, to Him, was the Word and all He required of me. Besides, ‘Ostad’ was a much more fluid and worshipful word than ‘Maestro’. : : He did frown deeper, however, His eyes darkening, then leaned back and sighed, made a dismissive gesture with His hand that I should take my place behind His throne. “I shall have to remember to be more specific in the future.” : : Elevated now, I saw to the outskirts of the room, caught a glimpse of Cassandra smiling. But my attention was quickly returned to Vittorio as He asked me a direct question. “And what of those two?” He asked, gesturing to the two still flailing on the floor. : : “Oh, they will live, Ostad.” I smiled, “though they will wish not before the hour is past.” : : He gave a deep chuckle that could be heard by only those closest to Him. The murmuring had already begun. On the floor below, the crowd began to part again, this time from the side, and I saw a flash of blond hair with a familiar manner headed this way in a fury. It reminded me of my hunger. : : I leaned towards Him as if to make a private comment but pitching my voice so that others could hear. “Ostad, my hunger grows dangerous,” I said. : : He did not even glance at me, saved His gaze for the approach of Valencia. His voice was annoyed. “Why did you not feed from your kill when you had the chance?” : : I tilted my head slightly, as if the thought had never occurred to me, “But, Ostad... You gave me no leave.” : : Again, His expression was of annoyance but from within, inexplicably, came the knowledge that He could not be more pleased, either with my request or my timing. Without a word He held out His arm to me, wrist exposed, as if it were no matter. I need to tell you that it had only the last ten years that I had been permitted to feed directly from His veins. He would cut them first of course. I had never been permitted to use my fangs. Until now. I felt a surge of pride and pleasure at the honor and trust He was showing me. Not even the knowledge that there was a political purpose to the privilege could dampen my joy. I knelt with reverence, cradling His hand in mine like a holy relic and slid back His sleeve. I confess I kissed first, drinking in the fragrance of Him before I sank my teeth, as gently as I could. There was no pain to my bite when I did not choose there to be. : : I am now aware of the ecstasy apparent in a vampire’s bite. There is a reason it is referred to as “the kiss”, and that humans and vampires alike are often addicted to the bite. That Vittorio showed no outward effects from my “kiss” speaks volumes. Perhaps He was so old He no longer felt the pleasure, though I have heard that for some ancients it is the only physical pleasure they still feel. But, whether from supreme self-control or absence of feeling, He turned from me to the now silenced Valencia. She stood on the steps, one foot on the step above, her blue skirts still held in hand to keep her from tripping and stared open mouthed at me and Vittorio’s bleeding wrist. She was not the only one who noticed either. Though I assure you, not a drop escaped my tongue, save that one I used to close the tiny wounds. Vittorio leaned back, propped His foot upon the severed vampire head at His feet. “What is it, Valencia?” : : She managed to close her mouth and step up, letting her skirts fall, trying to ignore the head inches from her braided hems staring up at her. With a toss of her now dyed blond hair she forced herself to stand imperiously. No matter how much she tried to hide it, I was intimately aware of how much what I was doing bothered her. It allowed me to drink slowly, to savor the act. I did not know then that there had once been something between them, and that, perhaps, was the reason He allowed me to take more than He would have normally. He ended the act by withdrawing His blood but not His arm, leaving me to close the wound and release. I bowed, stepped back and rested my arm casually on the high back of the throne, dared to meet her gaze fully. I stared a full moment before I slowly turned my glance from her as if she were nothing and scanned the room. : : She was a brave girl, I will give her that. Though her fear, anger and jealousy was almost palpable, she held herself in check and confronted the Prince of Venice. I should perhaps mention that the titles held by vampiric lords followed the lines of the mortals of their time and location. Vittorio was not always called Prince, though He has always preferred it, and in many places outside of Italy they were called other things, if there was even one person who was clearly ruler. But Italy of this time was a land of city-states and principalities; and though the human ruler of Venice was called Doge, there were princes here as well. And Vittorio was many times called a Prince of Venice by both mortal Doge and Council. : : Valencia was angry, furious, in fact. She never once mentioned the ties she had to the vampire currently serving as Vittorio’s footrest, though her approach was motivated by the slaying. Her primary vocalized concerns were me. “You cannot allow that monster free reign in this city! She will drive the church into a frenzy and cause us to be summarily hunted to extinction. She has no sense of morality or loyalty or rational judgement! You might as well loose a lion in the streets!” : : Now I felt a surge of genuine anger from Him. I stiffened, turned back to her and caught the almost imperceptible flinch. Vittorio stood, and Valencia back-pedaled to the main floor. “You dare to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own city?!” He roared. Everyone froze, moved away from Valencia and watched in mute horror, praying they too would not be noticed. “I trust her motivations far more than I trust yours, fanciulla D’Oro Sole. Let it be known here and now: Alia is mine, she is my will. She kills with my hand and any who would stop her will pay the price of those who impede my will.” : : Thus I took my place at His back, a place few others were trusted to stand. No one ever really knew when I was or was not present. I was fond of walking unseen, and I learned to love dancing in the shadows, realizing their connections to my master. He gave me a gift in those early years: an earring in sterling silver set with amethyst and jet. A simple jewel, but touched by so much more. I learned that Vittorio was of Carpathian descent, a Dacian, and as such, knew secrets of magic, alchemy and vampiric craft beyond that of younger vampires. He had imbedded some of His blood in its making and through specific rituals endowed the earring to allow me contact with Him at all times. He was always able to enter my mind, quite easily. This allowed me to initiate contact with Him when necessary. Mind you, I could not read His thoughts, only grant Him mine. Often when I patrolled the city at night, He went with me in my mind, watching me, making comments, directing me where He wished to see or hear, for He could take me over at will, as I later learned. : : I had been hunting a particular individual for Him, a crafty young Sorrentino sent as a spy to Venice. Vittorio wanted Him dead; had told me that I might feed if I felt need or desire. He had already informed me that human kills could be eaten without specific permission unless they were blooded servants of a vampire. Vampire kills could only be tasted with His permission, and I knew the logic in this. This one was not easy, being slightly older than myself and a little faster and slippery. I finally put away my swords and resorted to other weapons, ducking in under his defenses and sank fang. For him it was a pleasant death, and he found himself unable to continue to struggle. He was as sweet as any sensate, and it was, perhaps, that heady, slightly smoky flavor to him that brought to mind another kill and led me to continue past blooding. : : But no sooner I had the taste of his soul on my tongue than I felt the spaces in my clothing swell and seethe, and the shadows spread like fungus and solidified like armor. I became a marionette and was forced to release my kill. My swords were drawn and the vampire’s head went flying in a shower of ashes. The shadows lifted me and sailed me out over the garden wall and held me over the canal even as they began to squeeze tighter. : : A shadowy figure shimmered into being on the edge of the canal, staring at me with glowing purple eyes. His voice was in my head, seething and hissing with His fury, threatening to crush my mind as the shadows were trying to crush my body. “You do not drink souls, little animal! I gave you leave to feed, not eat!” He hissed. What crushed me most was not the shadows threatening to feed me to the kracken and monster eels below, or the pressure of mind on mind. It was the weight of His displeasure, that I had violated His trust and made Him unhappy. At that moment I would have gladly fallen into that black water if I thought it would make things right. “Souls are forbidden to you save where I grant them. Do you hear me?” : : “âmorzidan mara, ostad, O âmorzidan mara,” ‘Forgive me, master, O forgive me,’ I begged, and meant it. : : “When I tell you to feed, you will take only the blood. Only when I tell you that you may eat, are you permitted to drink beyond the blood.” : : “Never more, until it please you.” And I meant it. He brought me back to shore, into the waiting embrace of that shadow and transported me to where He sat in His meditation chamber. At first it was a welcoming embrace, a granting of that forgiveness, and then it became pain, a rending, tearing, gnawing pain, and I welcomed that, too. : : “Oh, I know you will not,” He said. : : : : Some changes did come due to Valencia’s direct manipulations, however. I was not always privy to the mutterings of the inner council, and so do not know how she managed it. I only know without a doubt that it was her doing. My clothing was altered. No longer was I permitted to be seen by any mortal who was not tied directly to the Palazzo. I was given a loose fitting tunic with leather bracers to gather the sleeves and gathered pants of a far less sheer, black fabric. My hair, when seen, was usually tied in purple and silver ribbons and braided. Other than that and a minimal trim of purple, plaited tassels on a new undervest, my clothes were exclusively blacks and dark greys. I was not permitted the Order’s blue, and only enough purple to mark me as Vittorio’s. I was to go about veiled, showing my face to none but Him. On the one hand I was proud of His possessiveness. On the other I felt disappointment and shame at being closeted away. I knew without a doubt I was a beautiful creature, had by then heard whispers that I surpassed even Valencia, and perhaps that is the reason. I still, almost defiantly, wore the broad, tasseled hip belt that had been made for my arrival, under my tunic. And I refused to stop dancing. : : Dancing was my outlet. When I was kept in, for whatever reason, or when there were no kills for me, I had to have an outlet for my rage and my blood lust. Dancing is as strenuous an exercise as killing and almost as violent and I loved it almost equally. I would dance unseen in the corridors, letting myself slip in and out of invisibility and terrify the servants. Or actually move in and out among the courtiers when they bored me. I know Vittorio watched me, know He could see me almost as easily as Cassandra, and know that He took pleasure in my unseen taunting dances around people who I found particularly annoying. It is perhaps no co-incidence that vampires which I took a particular dislike to were eventually given to the mercy of my blades. : : Ah, those were glorious years. Again my little ones, I have given you a taste of my existance. And the last sixty years in Vittorio’s possession get VERY interesting indeed. Antillius leaves us, his child is murdered by one of the Baron’s, justice meted out and other intriques. And again, if you want more… and there IS more… you will have to ask. My time is precious and there is so much blood to be savored and spilled in the night.

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Date	Name	Comment
24 Mar 2004	Anonymous	Loading... Please continue this story, it's not fair to leave just like this. Sandra Leigh Wagner replies: "lol. I shall try I am working on another book and will attempt to get my muse to work on this one next"
28 Mar 2004	Ace	Loading... Come on, you have to put more of this up! I can't stand having it cut off like that... Sandra Leigh Wagner replies: "lol. Let me finish my pirate story first, then I'll let you talk Clio into bullying me into finishing"
29 Mar 2004	Ace	Loading... Okay... -threatens Clio- Grrr... I like the pirate story too, but this one seems so... un-finished. Sandra Leigh Wagner replies: "maybe that's because it is. I'll get around to it eventually. I started it at the same time I started Love in Ruins (now found on my private site) and when that got a bit out of hand length wise I had to focus more. I got sandbagged by the pirate story which is about 5 chapters or less from done."
3 Apr 2004	Tab	Loading... Alright... You have to post more. I left for basic after reading both of these stories wishing and hoping that you would finish while i was away, so i checked while i was in my technical training site... Nothing, that lasted 13 weeks and now i'm here settled on my instillation checking again and still nothing. Please finish, and finish soon. I'm dyeing to hear what is next... so please, finish. Sandra Leigh Wagner replies: "lol sorry. I got shanghaied by a pirate (the Grey Pearl). Not to mention working on Love in Ruins (which is on my private site) which got a bit out of hand and required all my attention. I finished the other novel though... know any agents or publishers? I will TRY to work on this when I'm done with The Grey Pearl (about 5 or 6 chapters, maybe less) but I won't force it. Force a story out and you get lousy miracles... er stories (sorry Miracle Max) But I will see what I can do. Welcome home and glad you're in one peice!"
4 Apr 2004	Tab	Loading... I understand... Your a talented writer and must take you time. We all appreciate the hard work you put into these stories, which is what makes come back craving more, and why we push so hard to hear more. So by all means take your time, but know you have admirers waiting impatiently for you. Oh and thank you for your concern, i'm glad to be home and in one piece proudly serving our country. But yes, take your time and don't rush but know we want more. Sandra Leigh Wagner replies: "thank you so much, not every reader sees it as you do. I'm still working on the last two or three chapts of Pearl, but meanwhile, I just posted (its in queue)a cute little short which you, as a military man, may appreciate the allegory...."
9 Aug 2005	Heather	Loading... Ah, LARP (live action role playing) is a beautiful thing, as you have masterfully reproduced it for all to read. I thank you again. Sandra Leigh Wagner replies: "um... thank you again for the praise, but please quit referring to my work as a LARP written. I am starting to take offence"
20 Feb 2008	Brie TheCheeseGirl O´Reilly	Loading... In an attempt to make up for the fact that I keep mentioning crits, but fail to actually aid you in any way, I have returned. Hopefully you’re the kind of writer that appreciates crits, and I won’t feel the need to run from you as you brandish a foam bat at my head. ~He knew the tongue and the Word, to Him, was the Word and all He required of me. -- For some reason this sentence struck me as awkward. I had to read it several times to understand what you were trying to say, and even now that I’m fairly sure I do understand your meaning, it still seems a bit wordy. Perhaps it’s the double use of ’Word.’ Or perhaps it’s that I keep trying to read it as a compound sentence, which is not the form it is in. ~I need to tell you that it had only the last ten years that I had been permitted to feed directly from His veins. --I have the feeling that you mean to say "it had only ’been within’ the last ten years..." or something of the sort, as this sentence seems incomplete. ~Though her fear, anger and jealousy was almost palpable, she held herself in check and confronted the Prince of Venice. --I will proudly admit that I am no English genius, and so feel free to disregard this statement, BUT considering you’re speaking of three emotions, shouldn’t it be "her fear, anger and jealousy were almost palpable" ? I know there are a few strange rules regarding singular and plural subjects, so as I said, I may be wrong. And here is where the comment box has told me I’ve babbled on for too long, so I shall continue this in Part Two. TheCheeseGirl

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'In the Shadow of Death p2'

SciFi and Fantasy Stories: In the Shadow of Death p2