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Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Tue Nov 01, 2011 10:37 pm Post subject: Noble Blood

Silence.

She had known he was there, long before she saw him. She knew not who, or why, but she knew that he had arrived, and that he was like the other one before. The screams in her mind quieted, faded – gave way to nothingness. Nervously, she ran her thumb over a link in her chains as she watched the shadows that flitted in the lycaeum courtyard.

Aurelia heard only the faint step of his approach as he paused before her and watched her quietly. She lifted her eyes to meet his dark gaze, but found more questions there than answers. Still, all she could think was…Quiet. How long has it been since I knew the sound of quiet?

He gestured to the chair across from her, but his dark eyes did not leave her. “May I sit down?”

Aurelia gave half a nod, still watching him curiously. His dress was simple, but elegant. His movements were fluid – measured. Hesitantly, she spoke. “You’re like the other one. You quiet my mind.”

He smiled gently, knowingly. “I am Marcus. I have traveled a great distance to meet you, Countess. I spoke with the physician, but he could tell me very little of your condition. Perhaps you could enlighten me…”

And so, for the first time since the night Eclyse had brought her here, Aurelia had to ask herself the same question. How was she? At this very moment, she was at peace. She could think clearly of the path ahead of her. Of seeking absolution. Of finding redemption. And for the first time, she could put into words her fears, and hopes, and regrets. To each, he listened, as though she were, at that moment, the only soul in this corner of the world with anything to say.

But she knew, too, that the moment he left, he would take her peace with him. The torrent of chaos would begin anew.

“It does not have to be that way, Countess.” Marcus smiled and produced a small vial, holding it up for her inspection. “This is only a temporary cure, should you choose to take it from me. But it would quiet your mind for three days’ time.”

Aurelia mouthed a breathless “oh” and took the vial from him tentatively. Silently, she marveled at the progress she could make in three days. But outwardly, she maintained caution as he rose to leave.

“Marcus.” She caught the desperation in her voice as surely as he must have. Then, more quietly, “Thank you.”

“It is nothing. A gift, from one noble to another.” He smiled genuinely, his gaze putting her at ease again.

“Will you return?”

Marcus watched her intently for a moment. “Do you want me to return?”

Aurelia gave a quick half-nod. “Please.”

“Then I will see you again soon, Countess. Until then, be well.”

His step was nearly silent as he disappeared into the night. The instant she began considering how to hide the vial that he had given her, and sneak it past Father Lawrence, the ghosts converged on her mind again, their wails and screams raking at her with wild and reckless abandon.

“No…NO…I cannot undo what I have done. Please give me peace to make amends…”

But the voices would not relent. The visions and flashes of fire returned with a vengeance. Tears streamed down her face as, resolutely, she uncapped the vial and lifted it to her lips. Gods forgive me if I am making a mistake. Without another moment’s hesitation, she took a trembling breath and drank the contents of the vial.

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Wed Nov 02, 2011 2:51 pm Post subject:

The dreams began before she knew she was asleep. His face – the gentleness with which he spoke. His eyes – had it only been her imagination that they shifted from black to blue? The utter peace that he gave her permeated her thoughts, her dreams, her spirit. She reached out in her sleep to touch him. But the sound of her chains clattering off the side of the bed to the floor woke her with a start.

Father Lawrence sat just beyond her reach in a chair. A parchment scroll lay in his lap, and a short, tapered quill was stuck behind his ear. Candlelight illuminated him from the side as he spoke. “You were dreaming, Aurelia?”

She looked around the room, but found them quite alone, then returned her gaze to the physician’s face.

“Still you have no voice, Aurelia? You spoke in your sleep – his name, the gentleman who visited with you this evening. Do you remember?”

“Marcus? Has he returned?” Aurelia sat up quickly, looking to the door of her chamber.

“He has not, Aurelia.” Father Lawrence followed her gaze, then looked back to her. “It has been a long time since you spoke.” He rose and stepped up to her bedside, feeling her forehead and cheeks with the back of his hand. “Does anything hurt? Are you thinking clearly? How do you feel?”

“Marcus…” Aurelia looked from the door back to the healer, urgently. “Did he say when he would return?”

Father Lawrence pushed his spectacles up onto the bridge of his nose, his brow furrowed. “He did not say. Do you understand my questions?”

Something clicked in her mind, and she realized that her only way out of here would be through cooperation. The sooner she could be gone from here, the sooner she could find him…and begin her search for absolution. Three days…one can only hope that will be enough.

“I’m sorry, Father.” Aurelia sighed. “Until tonight, my mind has known only sorrow and guilt. I was lost, but I am finding my way. I have done much that will require atonement, and I wish to begin right away…”

At this, the physician smiled warmly. “You have not slept in weeks, Aurelia. This is a huge step in your recovery. Tonight, sleep. We will begin working tomorrow morning.” As he spoke, he stood and rolled the parchment as he walked to the chamber door. He looked back at her one last time with a sigh of genuine relief. “Welcome back, Countess.”

“Thank you, Father,” she uttered quietly as the door latched behind him. She lay down again, staring into the candle’s strong, gold flame, and she wondered where Marcus had gone. He had promised to return. She would have to hold onto that. There must be some way to repay him for his kindness.

Somewhere in the darkness, sleep found her again, covered her warmly, and spun her dreams through the heavens. Always by her side, he was there with quiet promises and encouragement. Far above the earth, her devotion for all he had done occupied her every thought. She gave no audience to doubt or fear. With such kind and gentle support, how could she possibly fall?

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Sat Nov 05, 2011 1:38 am Post subject:

Leaf rustle. Then nothing. Aurelia watched the shadows intently, hopefully, but darkness was all that lurked there. She wondered how far away “nearby” was. Would he watch her? Seek her progress? Would he come to her and bid her come away from this place with him? Ask her to leave her chains behind?

The first moon slipped, waking, from its earthly grave, and began its slow ascent into the heavens. Aurelia sat in the courtyard of the lycaeum, writing in the journal given to her by Father Lawrence. She wrote all that she could remember of that night in Ashencrosse – her last – the night she employed fire to its purpose. And how could she forget any small detail? The ordeal had played itself out again and again, every waking moment, every dreaming moment, since that night.

Until three days ago. Three days ago, he appeared to her.

She paused, quill hovering over her assigned journal, and allowed the memory to wash over her again. The gentleness of his hand against her cheek. The very thought gave her chills again. She laid her quill down and shut the journal, then rose and walked to the gate of the courtyard, watching the moonlit road beyond.

“Marcus?”

She knew it was futile, and she rested her forehead against the cold iron bars of the gate as her eyes sought the slightest movement in the pale blue moonlight. Everything in her sought to open the gate and escape this place. To find him, to bring the moonlight to him in her cupped hands like cool water, that she might quench his thirst.

But he bade her stay. And whatever he wanted, that would she do. She lowered her voice to a whisper, tracing fingertips down the iron bars. “Marcus…”

Only then did she notice the other whispers in the night. The cries which seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once. The azure moonlight went blood red and fire rose from the hills beyond the gates.

“No...no...” Aurelia reached into the pocket of her plain white gown and fumbled for the vial he had given her upon his second visit. Without hesitation, she uncapped it and lifted it to her lips to drink.

Within moments, the fire faded from the hills, and the cries dispersed into the quick chirp of crickets in the autumn underbrush. Peace again descended as the night righted itself. Reluctantly, she abandoned the gate, secure in his promise that he would be nearby. Secure in the promise that he would return for her.

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Wed Nov 09, 2011 7:45 pm Post subject:

How many nights had she lain still and quiet? Three – four, maybe. For she could not be sure how long she had slept in the beginning. She remembered very little of her last night in the Lycaeum – His gentle eyes, his reassurance that he had secured her release as he slid the slender key into her shackles. The chiming clatter of the shackles as they fell to sandstone pavers at her feet.

All that mattered was that he had come for her as he promised. And these were the memories to which she clung as his blood coursed through her veins like molten steel, searing her to the core. She could not entertain thoughts of death – not now. There was far too much left for her to do. Lord Marcus had promised that which was not otherwise attainable, but for this way alone. She knew what he was, without a doubt. She knew what she would become. And so, she waited out the excruciating torment as each filament that connected her to mortal life was burned away. And she waited still as each was reforged, mending again her shadow and soul in new arrangement.

Here was not death. Here was new life abundant. Here was opportunity, and time. Here was affection and acceptance. And here was forgiveness. She felt it each time his eyes beheld her from beyond the bars that contained her. And it was these moments only when she allowed her eyes to open, that she might share a few precious seconds in communion before he disappeared again. A bond stronger than any she had ever known. Here was, at once, such freedom and such belonging that she scarcely remembered how she had ever managed to draw breath before.

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Thu Nov 10, 2011 5:34 pm Post subject:

Instinct. It was the only thing upon which she could ever fully depend. That was the most important lesson she had learned from the beasts she had held as protectors and companions all her life. To find solace in solitude when she hurt, and keep company only with those worthy of her trust. And as always before, solitude had proven a patient and curative companion once more.

She was weak, and her body ached with some ancient and nameless need. But the destruction and reformation of her body was complete. Shadow knitted to soul once more in such a way that she was unsure where one stopped and the other began.

Aurelia huddled in the corner of the cell, her mind and body tight as a drum. Thoughts flitted through her mind hastily, in flashes of light and colour – far too swiftly for her to make sense of any single notion. Now and again, she felt strange and curious eyes upon her from beyond the bars, but she could not find it within her new and feral spirit to meet whatever challenge they presented. It was a tedious enough task to keep herself soothed and contained. Every fibre of her being longed to tear out the bars – or the walls, stone by stone. To find him, and learn where lay her next step.

Marcus. The only single thought which held any sway in the constant torrent of confusion, frustration, and angst. My Lord will know the answer.

As if summoned by her silent cries, his presence at the cell door laid all else to rest. She met his gaze without hesitation. He held the keys. It was time.

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Fri Nov 11, 2011 7:58 pm Post subject:

The Feluccan night overwhelmed her senses as she stepped forth from her Lord’s castle. Moonlight streamed down, silhouetting bare, ruined branches against autumn sky. The moons themselves, two matched pearls caught up in the fragile web in their race across the heavens.

Night scents, rich and heady, swirled around her as she struggled to unfurl their layers, one from another, that she might identify any single scent. Smoke from rotting leaffall. Early frost from chrysanthemum. And blood. Her eyes flashed open wide in the direction from which it emanated.

Beneath the trees, a mass of white stood stock still. His eyes rested uneasily upon her, and she smelled his fear as his fur stood on end. She felt his heat upon her face, heard his massive heart quicken as their eyes met.

“Pir…” She uttered softly, and lifted a hand. “Come.”

The great white cu sidhe stared stolidly as she called, unmoved by her plea. But you have come, she thought with the first smile that had crossed her lips since she left the Lycaeum. You followed – there is hope yet.

Silently, she took a tentative step in his direction. Her movements were slow and cautious. She heard a deep rumbling from within him. A growl which had not yet surfaced, and she paused. The beast trotted a few yards farther away from her, then turned again to watch her intently.

“Pir, please. Look at me. Dé chì thu?”

He blew a gust of air through his nostrils, creating a vaporous spectre that arose and dissipated in the moonlight, then he turned and loped off into the darkness.

Aurelia stood, her hand still lifted toward him as she watched him go. Her expression fell, but her voice was resolute.

“There is hope yet…”

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Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Sat Nov 12, 2011 10:23 pm Post subject:

“I’m hungry, Mama.” A young girl with pale strawberry ringlets pulled incessantly at her mother’s skirt and swayed, hiding her face in the folds of crisp blue linen.

“You have to wait till supper.” The woman stood rolling out sweet dough on the countertop, unmoved by the child’s pleas.

The woman’s face was a blur. She should know the features, and the fuzzy details were unsettling. The child whined into her mother’s skirts and wrapped her arms around the woman’s knees, skirts and all.

“But I’m huuuungry, Mama.”

The blank-faced woman looked down at the girl and spoke with a voice that no longer fit her. “Shh…Fret not, Aurelia, you can feed soon.”

With a start, Aurelia lifted her head from her folded arms. She looked around her, finally remembering herself, and where she was. Had she slept? Was that even possible? She furrowed her brow, looking down at a passage in the open book that lay before her.

Do to others what you would have them do to you

Aurelia rested her forehead in her open hand, her elbow on the table next to the book. Hunger fretted at her edges, and burned through every inch of her body. The hour grew near when she would need to reconcile her physical needs against her need for absolution. It would seem, she realized, that an eternity of atonement comes with a price of its own.

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Sat Nov 19, 2011 9:16 am Post subject:

Beyond the heavy stone walls, there was a heartbeat. It was strong, far more powerful than any human she’d yet heard. She knew it by the slow, rhythmic tattoo it beat out in the night – she had heard it before. Aurelia rose from her seat, leaving her book splayed across the stone table, and walked to the window. Below, painted in moonlight, the great white cu sidhe lifted his muzzle high, sniffing the night air toward the castle, then he lowered away his gaze. Cautiously, he looked around himself, and finding no predator there, he focused again upon the castle in front of him.

There was a rumble within him, but it was different from the growl before. A sound of sorrow welled up inside the beast, and emanated in the form of a whimpering howl. Behind the howl rumbled discontent, loneliness – mistrust.

Aurelia swiftly made her way to the door of the castle, and pushed the heavy iron door open a crack. Pirouette missed nothing, as his gaze flitted instantly to where she stood concealed in the shadows of the castle. His hackles raised, the dog held his ground as Aurelia emerged from the castle and shut the door behind her.

“Pity, poor beast.” She cooed softly to her pet as she approached with footfalls slow and sure. “Ye don’t understand. I know. I don’t understand it all m’self.”

Pirouette’s muzzle curled instinctively at her first few steps, bearing his fangs as she lifted a hand toward him. He seemed unsure whether to run or tear Aurelia to bits. Entrenched in his own confusion, he stood as one immovable.

When she was at last a breath away from her companion, her lifted hand seemed his polar match as he shied away from even the brushing of her fingertips. But his countenance calmed, and his steady and massive heartbeat did not quicken. Bereft of any other option, she lowered her hand away and lifted instead her voice in song.

Oh the Summer time is comin’,
And the trees are sweetly bloomin’,
And the wild mountain thyme
All around the bloomin’ heather...
Will ye go, lassie, go?
And we'll all go together,
To pull wild mountain thyme
From around the bloomin' heather...
Will ye go, lassie, go?

The two stood drenched in the light of the moons as she sang softly. Her skin shone nearly as brightly as his pelt, the moonlight matching each for each, and Pirouette closed the last step. Lowering his head, he pressed it against her stomach, and she in turn enfolded him. One arm over, and one arm under, she cradled his head and held him close.

“Ever faithful, Pir,” she spoke in a muffled voice as she buried her face in his great mane of fur. “The others will ne'er be as forgivin' as ye."

____________________________

(Above song taken from a traditional Celtic folksong.)

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Wed Nov 23, 2011 7:56 pm Post subject:

Night and the jungle. Everything around her breathed and passed essence of life from one body to the next in perfect exchange. Panther to fern frond, and rising through the trees to claim the sky as birds carried it still farther in flight. Until the lightning stole it away and returned it to the earth once more.

In the cacophony and quietude of night, life beat out a rhythm on the skins and strings of the jungle. It encircled – enraptured her – as she moved quietly through the thorny traps that brambles laid, and paused breathless before the moonrise of Trammel through the trees.

Heartbeat, and breath, and nightsong wove themselves together like some forgotten dream. The air, heavy with the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine. Heady and earthen, the scents clung to her hair and clothes, and settled themselves within the seams between shadow and soul.

And here was where the song ended, and dissonance began. For all the energy that passed through the jungles of Trinsic, none passed through her. She felt, for the first time, the sullen insistence of nature – here is no place for you. You have slipped from the song and fallen beneath the voices.

But for once, so far removed, she could hear the masterpiece as audience and not songstress. For once, she was bathed in the song, rather than projecting it. Here, nightsong comforted and rocked her soul.

Lower away, and far beneath, the basal thrum of her existence struck a single chord, where began a new song – all her own.

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Mon Nov 28, 2011 7:21 pm Post subject:

(a journal entry, in a hand-worked, leatherbound journal bearing a Tree of Life and Celtic knotwork)

Tonight I returned to Ashencrosse. And tonight, I took a life.

I had only meant to return for a few items, so precious to me. The silver crown given me as a favour by Eclyse in a hobbyhorse joust when we were children. A spray of dried heather picked in the mountains, the summer of my first kiss. A medicine jar filled with glass pieces that I kept always on my bureau – all shapes and sizes of the tiny sparkling daggers, each representing a particular triumph or defeat. These things, I hold dear above all the objects this world has to offer. I retrieved each, along with this leatherbound journal and the sandalwood box that contains it.

I kept to the shadows, as I was commanded by My Lady Draven. I avoided conflict, only looking in on my dear Eclyse as she slumbered for a mere moment, for fear that I might wake her. I did everything right.

But I was not the only soul residing in the shadows of Ashencrosse this night. No, there was another. Just one other. I knew him the moment I set foot outside the cottage. I had crossed his path between Umbra and the fortress, and I recognized the scent immediately. He melded with shadow outside her window and peered inside, then made his way quickly to the door. There was no time. No great plan, only haste, and hunger, in her defense.

For as much as the wine sustains me, instinct would not be denied another moment. His hand never touched the latch before I took him, covering his mouth, nearly suffocating him in his lecherous intent. Without preamble or ceremony, instinct guided my attack, and joining us two in the kiss of death, I drank.

And the world was right. And all made sense. His blood sang through my veins, a new song, clear and beautiful. I paused as I felt his pulse weaken. I heard the words of My Lord in my mind. “We need not kill, only to sustain ourselves.” Helpless and weak, he looked to my eyes, seeking mercy. His lips moved in silent uttered prayer or plea. But along with the fear upon his skin, I smelled desire, and knew his despicable intent in being there this night.

Rage beyond my imagination overtook my senses, and I tore at his throat savagely – seeking more of this song that soothed my hunger – and perhaps some splinter of retribution. A faint scream, cut short as he choked for air and drowned in his own blood. Then he was gone. And his song became my own.

I carried his body to the abyss at the Sanctan pass, and threw him into nothingness. He was nothing in life. So shall he remain. But in dying, he became a part of my song, and for that, to him, I am grateful.

I feel no remorse.

Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Thu Dec 29, 2011 8:48 am Post subject:

“Thank ye Derrick.” Aurelia feigned interest in wrapping an artifact carefully and placing it with care into her bank box, before returning it into the minter’s weathered, but patiently waiting hands. Her eyes, however, barely left the figure standing before her on the steps.

He was tall and strong. An imposing sort of gentleman. Dark hair, ruddy complexion. He was a man who’d seen many battles and lived to tell the tales. And his eyes missed nothing.

“Am I in your way?” His tone was wary, as surely he’d noted her gaze.

Aurelia smiled faintly. “Nay, not at all. Apologies. I was simply doin’ a bit o’ business wi’ the minter, when I suppose ye caught my eye, so darkly d’ye entrench yerself.”

His pulse was strong and steady. The scent alone was enough to make her dizzy. Quietly, she composed herself.

“Where is it you hail from? I can’t quite place the accent…” He studied her face as she replied.

“The Highlands o’ Minoc, originally. Clan Bretane. Father owns mines up that way, Sir.” Then, recovering her senses, “Might I inquire as t’ your name? I’m Aurelia.”

“Draken Korin,” he replied matter-of-factly, relaxing a bit to lean back against the bank pillar.

Over the course of an hour, faces both strange and familiar passed as the two spoke— of the past and of the present. The unfamiliar became new, and intriguing. Her plan to lull and glamour lost amidst new insight into the world of the dark stranger.

And then, the spell was broken. The night had grown deeper, and acquaintances pulled Draken into the lamp-lit throngs who passed through Haven with little more than a quiet ‘Goodnight.’

Aurelia cursed the hungry ache that returned with ravenous vengeance the moment her body sensed the loss. His scent lingered lightly upon the pillar, and in the air about the lanterns. But her opportunity had long passed.

“Maith thú, Aurelia,” she cursed herself under her breath. “This is why th’ fox ne’er gets t’ know the hen…”

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Aurelia Bretane · Posted: Mon Jan 02, 2012 8:15 pm Post subject:

Death be not proud, though some have called thee
Mighty and dreadfull, for, thou art not so,
For, those, whom thou think'st, thou dost overthrow,
Die not, poore death, nor yet canst thou kill me....
~John Donne

Frozen. She had been frozen since the day he took her. Frozen, since the day she died in the arms of her Lord.

Frozen, as others of her kind came and went. Frozen, still, as her heart was picked up by the occasional wandering soul…turned over in their hands as they looked for anything worthwhile. And frozen as they, finding nothing of interest there, laid it aside again.

Aurelia sat still and quiet, cast amethyst in the moonlight, and listened to the wind singing through the barren cherry branches overhead. One moon hung, a silver crescent, overhead. The other loomed, heavy, blue, and full, just above the horizon. The stone upon which she sat was smooth from years of wear – worn by those who sat in this same spot, beneath blossoms of pink, and gazed into the koi pond as the sun warmed their bones.

Such days were far behind her. The surface of the koi pond was frozen too, now, and within it, the goldfish were stilled by winter's deadly touch. No fin was rustled, no graceful arc disturbed. The surface of the water was smooth, unrippled by the frigid winds of Zento’s winter night.

Aurelia stretched out her hand and uttered soft words in an ancient language, coaxing fire from the ice. The flames burned low and blue, nearly invisible in the light of the moons. They fought with quiet determination, and the ice steadily melted, as she released the spell. Below the new-rippled surface, with silent grace, the koi began to sway, brought to life by the warmth of one soul who dared to reach out.

These past three days, she knew the same stirrings of flame within herself, as her spirit unfurled and fluttered again. Frozen, but not dead, as she battled ice with fire. Her path may be fraught with traps and brambles, but she had once again laid claim to her own soul. And that, she was convinced, was the first, and most important step.