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The Weakness, Betrayal, and Promise

Location: Huining, China
Time: 1125 AD / Shortly after the Darconi Wars on the Plane of Elzia

The air seemed to hum with the on coming of some grand venture or another. It was a hot night; the moon was full as the pond reflected it undisturbed for no wind blew for a while. There was the slightest sound of something like fabric shredding as white light engulfed the grassy clearing blowing dust and grass up and all about. The portal opened, and something was flung out, a body of sorts scared from battle but perfect in a way. It hit the ground with enough force to make a crater leaving the vassal out cold.

The rift in the air closed as its passenger he been let out and left to the world around it. The body in the middle of the shallow crater was tall for some one so fine of limb and slight of body. The being was laid out at what seemed to be 6’7, and clothed in the remains of what looked like some odd type of warring armor and cloth covered in odd markings. The beings head had less then half a helm of sorts on it, and was covered in a fine set of hair, that seemed to be the color of blood with a black streak through it. Nothing more could be noted about the body while it did not move, it remained motionless there in the place it had been shot into.

When the cold hands of another, a male who stood at 5’8 and was thin of limb but fair of body, touched the stranger, he came awake with a deadly start, grabbing the other male around the throat with such a grip as to crush the life out of them. However the feel of cold flesh in his hands reminded him of the Dirdra in the middle of the battle he was just in. With their unblinking gazes and their lifeless eyes, so cold of skin and yet dark light night. Foul unloving husk as they were, it caused him to shutter and drop the supposed attacker.

The attacker sprang back with surprising speed and grace to land in crouch just outside of the crater while the man who had just tried to end him regained his thoughts. It took only a moment, but this attacker knew who the being laid out before him was, and he had known the second they had touched. It did nothing to ease the ach in his throat however, nor the need known as thirst. He spoke in cool tones, like the genital touch of falling night. “Ah so after five hundred years you return and here in China no less, Alphonse Grial. Where did you go my, not mortal friend? I’ve missed you all the years.” There was a dark smile and a glint of something white at the speaker’s mouth that the moonlight caught. A fang?

The young man in the crater came to attention on the being crouched in a death stance before him. Elmar Grander, had not been called Alphonse Grail in nearly five hundred and ten years and no one in this day and age should know that name. All the friends he had while here on Earth during the time of that name’s use were long since dead. Who was this man before him, he was not human that much he could tell, and if he knew that name, he was no friend. “Who are you?” He asked as he narrowed his eyes, his body screaming out in pain as it had been depleted in the battle just moments ago. It dawned on him; he was literally powerless, and some how back on Earth. Though he knew he could not die, this could get bad and quick. Still his body betrayed nothing to the being before him.

The man before him stood up, and now looked nothing more then a teenager, no more then maybe nineteen at the most. There was a glint of something white at his mouth once more, as he looked down with longing eyes at a once friend whom he thought was dead. Memories came back of fond times with the man before him, before the night everything changed for him. His smile faded and he let that thought wash away back into the lock box of his mind. “You don’t remember me love? Oh I’m wounded.” Came the man’s reply as he held a hand over his unbeating heart. “Then allow me to remind you just who I am.” He said next as he turned ever so slightly to the right allowing the moonlight to spill over him. Asian features showing, a sharp nose, slightly slanted black eyes, a full face, and nice cut jaw line. On his shoulder were two letters in silver thread just barely there in the dark. C.L. He laughed and smiled once more. “Do you remember me now?” He asked with a full smile, as both of his fangs showed.

Alphonse, though not human his self, and that not even being his real name, saw it all and the memory came back. A young boy, who grew up and had died the night before he left. Someone had kidnapped him, and murdered him. A vampire had done it, and as an act of kindness for his friend’s memory he slew the leech and left Earth for what he had thought to be good, and yet here the young man was before him. The very notion of it all shook him to the core. This could mean only one thing, that the young man before him was an undead blood-sucking leech. What humans called a vampire. “Oh…no.”

For a moment the young vampire looked at his former friend with a smile on his face. The second he heard the response of remembrance his smile dropped. “Yes, it happened. You thought I was dead, and you left. You slew the man who shred me, and you made undead hard for me. How was I to know the rules? How was I to know that sunlight would kill me? Though most of all…you never said good-bye to me.” He pointed a finger at him. “And now here you are, many hundreds of years later dressed in some off garb, and with different hair. Still…those eyes….that look, the way you lay there, I could never forget you. However sweet it is to see you again, I’m a little hungry at the moment, and you are the only thing around that I feel will slate my hungry.” He laughed a bit. “No hard feelings lover.” And with that he pounced on the friend before him.

Shock, horror, anger, all of these flooded through him as he had heard what had been said and then when the young lad sprang at him and pinned him to the ground, leaning in as if for a kiss, only to turn and bite into his neck just above the armored collar, draining the life from him, did he finally get what it meant. He had failed to save his friend; he had failed to protect the ones who had worked so hard to befriend him. Above all other things he was being fed on, and that was not something he liked. His vision blurred, and as he was starting to black out all he could remember was something he muttered, something about stopping.

The next day when he came to, still lying there as before, he could not move. He had lost a lot of blood, but some how in the night his features had changed to help him blend in. He wasn’t dead, at least his body wasn’t. Some part of him on the inside had died however. While he was being fed on he had seen it all in the only way one blessed by the Goddess Dilara could be. The memories all flooded into him, what all happened. How his friend had been turned the emotions, the love, the lust, and the hate, all of it. It seeped like poison into his body, into the core of him. To make matters worse, C.L. had left him a note. He read over it when he mustered the power to move. It was something about how he was different, that his blood was so sweet and pure that it made him more powerful. Something about how he could not kill him, but he would find him again when he needed to feed. There was mention of a mark, some way that he could now be found no matter where he went.

When he looked at his body, he found nothing, but when he was finally able to stand, and make his way to the water. His reflection showed there some how in his soul were the faintest out lines of fangs. It was then he remember some legend of how certain powerful vampires could leave an unseen mark on the ones they claimed for whatever reason. He remembered something else about misfortune following that that bore this mark. All through out his life for things of fun or what have you, he had always been seen as the bad. No one or thing ever bothered to hear him out, he was always pulled into something or the other.

He had started wars, he had brought nations and worlds to an end, he had caused humanity on Earth to be how it was from his actions in Heaven alone, however to be cursed and by a former friend now turned leech…it was something he would not take. In his despair he made a vow. He would kill them all, every last one of those vial, unclean, rotting leeches. He would end them all. In the end he felt it in his very being he had been betrayed in more then one way. It was not something he would ever stand for again. “I. Will. End. You.” Was all he said before he passed out and feel in the lake, sinking to the bottom of it, where he would remain for one hundred years. He needed to rest, that leech had drained him in many ways and his blood now felt like burning poison. Due to his body being otherworldly, he was not able to become a leech his self, but a change did happen, one he would not find out about until many years later. The last thing he saw as he sunk like a stone to the bottom was the sunlight filtering down through the water.

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