Triumverate, Chapter 1

Chapter 1


Angelica sits absent mindedly on the soft, oversized bed. She has been sitting in the same position for a while now. In fact, she has been sitting like this ever since she wakes up from the nightmare. Not that it matters, since this happens every single day. She will go to bed right before dawn, sleep as all good vampires should do, and then promptly wakes herself up because of nightmares. The most difficult thing is not the wake up part. The hard part is that after waking up, she never has any desire to go back to sleep anymore. And since she always seems to wake up at around noon, she usually has a lot of times to burn before the night falls and the rest of the vampires living in the palace wake up. She can do a lot of things during this time. But instead, she usually just sits on her bed sulking, feeling annoyed, or just generally feeling sorry for herself. Not that it matters anyway. The nightmares have been following her around ever since day one of becoming a vampire. Nothing makes it go away, nothing makes it better, and nothing tames it. So she might just as well accept it, right? She is powerful, cruel, heartless, and most importantly, utterly scared of her nightmares. Nice.
Sighed, she mindless tucks her hand under the stock of pillow and pulled out two books. She had tucked these two books under her pillow this morning, right before dawn, after Tarrant had left her chamber. Actually, that’s not entirely true. She has been tucking the same two books under her pillows every day before dawn for quite a while now. The books are hard bounded, about three hundred pages or so. Both have their titles printed in gold letters on their spines and covers. The letterings on one of the books read The Great Leaders of Transelle during the Early to Middle Antiquity (500 to 370 years before the Split). The letterings on the other book read Introduction to Traditions and Customs of Races in Transelle. Both are quite old. The pages have turned yellow due to aging and the leather coverings are showing signs of abrasions and damages. Both books are packed with tiny prints of words intermixed with some ancient maps and occasional illustrations of people. Staring at the books, Angelica debates whether or not she should open the book and go through the ritual once again today. Then with a bigger sigh, she puts the two books back down.
“Not like I can understand them anyway.” Angelica mutters to herself.
For the past few months, she has been trying to read the two books, with no progress what so ever. True, she had not received any education when back when she was still a human. But she has been vampire for more than 500 years now. And 500 years is a long time, enough time for her to pick up basic reading and writing skills even if she hasn’t actually tried to do so. She can understand most of the documents important enough that she actually needs to read and comment on. She can write out her own orders if needed. But she can’t read these two books. The materials in the books are dry. But most importantly, she has never seen most of the words used in the books before.
“I swear, how can he read stuff like this?” Frustrated, Angelica lies back down.
Sometimes she can’t help wondering who this mysterious man called Tarrant DeCanter is. He has been living here, serving her every day for the past twenty years. Yet she knows almost absolutely nothing about him. He shows up on one stormy summer night twenty years ago to fulfill his promise. Since then, he has stayed as her slave, performed duties as her servant and butler, and managed to become Count Sairon’s close friend. Tarrant is quiet, really quiet. He never utters a word unless he needs to. He is also very polite, proper, and obviously very intelligent. He knows almost none of the proper court manners when he first arrived. And yet before that week had ended, his etiquettes were so perfect that she was left speechless.
And then accidentally, she found out that he likes to read. Tarrant must have learned from somebody that everybody in the palace has free access to the library. She saw him coming out of the huge room used as the palace’s library one day as she wondered around mindlessly around the castle after waking up by her usual nightmares. Intrigued, Angelica started to pay attention to Tarrant’s visits to the library and found out that he actually visits the place very regularly, about once every two or three weeks. He would always take two or three books during each visit and then return them on his next visit. Finally, one day, she sneaked in after him to see what books he had taken out last time. After he was gone, she took the two books he had just returned off the shelves and took them back to her chamber.
Every day right before dawn, she would put the books under her pillow, go to sleep, wake up, take the books out, and try to read. Then she will have to give up because she can’t understand most of the words in the book. Then when the night falls, before Tarrant comes to her chamber, she would get off her bed and hide the books under her bed so that nobody, especially Tarrant, would know that she has them. Then before dawn, after Tarrant left, she will take the books back out from under the bed and put them under her pillow. She has been doing this for months that it has now become a daily routine for her, a pointless daily routine for her since she can’t understand the damn books no matter how many times she tries. And that makes her wonder how can Tarrant be able to read books like these? It will make sense that Tarrant can read and write eloquently if he was from some kind of aristocratic family. But he was a farmer before he came to her court. Where did he learn how to read? Where did his knowledge come from?
And then there is this one mystery about Tarrant that has been grilling Angelica alive: the fact that Tarrant has never aged a day ever since he arrived here twenty years ago. How could a man looks exactly the same for twenty years? Human ages, and they age fast. No human can manage to look exactly the same for twenty years. So how in the hell can Tarrant appears exactly the same for the entire twenty years? How?
A knock on the door disrupts Angelica’s chain of thoughts.
“Damn it!” Angelica curses under her breath. Absorbed in her thoughts, she has forgotten about the time. The absence of heat on her thick, heavy bed curtains indicate that the sun has already set and night has fallen. “Damn! Damn! Damn!” Quickly jumps off her bed, she hurriedly tucks the two books back under her pillows and desperately wishes that somehow, all of her slaves miraculously will forget about cleaning her suite, changing her bed sheets, and making her bed today. Yeah, right, very likely.
“Your Majesty” Tarrant kneeled on one knee as Angelica rushes out of her room and greeted her in his usual, deep, and calming voice, just as usual. The typical, usual, and utterly mysterious Tarrant DeCanter.
Calm down, Angelica. You will need to calm down and recompose yourself. Angelica thought. It is just two books. Two stupid books. They are in my library, which makes them mine to do whatever I wish. It is just two books. Get a grip! Exhaling slowly, Angelica finally feels slightly calmer and more in control of herself. Everything will be alright. In fact, all I have to do is to find something for Tarrant to do before the servants get here. Find some errant for him to ran or someplace that he has to go. That’s it! Find him something to do.
“Be at ease,” Angelica said as she walks passed Tarrant towards the oversized couch in the antechamber while her brain is racing to try to find something appropriate for Tarrant to do. Well, she can always send Tarrant to Sairon. Recently promoted into a count and the one in charge of a fairly large military, Sairon can probably use the extra help today. Relieved that she has finally found a way to avoid him for the rest of the night, she turns around. “Well, there is really not much to do here tonight, why don’t you go….wait…Tarrant, what’s wrong?”
She hasn’t noticed any thing out of the ordinary until now because Tarrant was kneeling with his head bowed, just as he usually does every night. Besides, she is way too absorbed in her own thoughts to really notice anything around her. But now she can’t help but curses herself for her lack of attention. Tarrant’s face is pale. Not as pale as a corpse perhaps. But definitely not the healthy color for a living human being. His breathing is heavy and labored. And he just looks…ill.
“I am fine, Your Majesty.”
“You are very pale.” Angelica stated in a cool voice. One minute she is worried dead about Tarrant finding out about the books and the next minute, the books are the least of her concerns. Instead, she is angry at herself for not noticing that Tarrant looks ill soon. Funny how things usually work out.
“It is just a minor cold. Nothing that Your Majesty should be worried about.” Tarrant bowed again as he explains in his usual composure
But that explanation only irritates Angelica more. Damn that calmness! He should have acted ill, or complained, demanded a night off, or did something other than being so cool and peaceful about it. He is sick and thus shall act like he is sick! “You are dismissed for tonight, go back to your room.”
“Your Majesty?”
“You are dismissed. Go and get some rest.”
“But…”
“That is an order. Or are you going to defy my orders now?”
“No, Your Majesty. Forgive me for my lack of manner.” Bowed again, Tarrant silently leaves the antechamber.
Seeing Tarrant left, Angelica can finally breathe a sigh of relief. She was worried that Tarrant would refuse to leave, insisting that he was fine, and stayed around. At least he had agreed to leave for the night. And since his service is not required elsewhere in this court, he is most likely going back to his room to lie down and rest like he should. But the fact that Tarrant is sick is worrisome to her. Aside from never aged a day in the past twenty years, Tarrant had also never been sick for a day.
It most likely is nothing. Tarrant is human. Human, by definition, are mortal and tends to get sick. At least now she knows that Tarrant is still human. As for whatever illness he has, she will not worry about it. He will sleep it off in a day or two. And after that, everything will be back to normal again. No, she will not worry herself over the health of a slave.


Sairon looks at the amount of papers on his desk. The sun was barely down and already there are things that demands his immediate attention. People are lining up outside of his study waiting for an audience with him. Seems like every night there are so many things to do, so many things that demands attention, so many people to talk to, so many problems that keep popping up. And worst of all, he is expected to handle all of these stressful situations and take care of the problems, alone. He still remembers his excitement when he was promoted into a Count. But now, he swore that being a vampire pillaging some tiny village in the middle of nowhere is much, much better than this disaster.
Of course, it is not as if having high status and power is a bad thing. When you are a vampire serving in a court, power and status, together with some devious cunningness, is about the only thing that will keep one alive, or at least avoid the decimal fate of becoming a pile of dust. And being a Count in the court of one of the most powerful vampires in the land sounds like exactly the thing to do if he wants to stay alive and enjoy his life as a member of the “undead”, until now, when he is literally buried under papers, works, and various duties every single night.
Sighed heavily, Sairon forces himself to control the strong desire to bolt out of the doors of his study and escape to some remote place in the world and hide. Instead, he manages to gather enough energy to refocus his attention back on the pile of papers on top of his desk. Just when finally got his mind focus enough on the pile of paper works in front of him, the doors suddenly burst open as Angelica hurries in.
“Your Majesty. I am sorry; I didn’t realize that you are coming. Is there anything wrong?” Sairon quickly stands up from his seat and walks around the large oversized cherrywood desk.
“He is sick.”
“I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?”
“Tarrant, he is sick. At least, I think that he is sick. He looked pale earlier tonight, right after sunset, when he comes to my chamber just like he usual does. I, I don’t know what happened. I mean, Tarrant has never looked so pale before.” The anxiety is chewing her up slowly and she can hardly remain still as she talks to Sairon. “There has got to be a doctor somewhere here for Tarrant right?”
Sairon has never had a harder time to keep himself from exploding into laughter. Weird as it might sounds, seeing Angelica frantically pacing around his study is amazingly amusing and entertaining to him. Had Angelica not being the cold-blooded vampire lord she is and his mistress, he is pretty sure that he will be on the floor laughing right about now. But as satisfying as it might be to see Angelica frantic and full of anxiety and concerns, Sairon decides that it probably will be wise for him to calm her down, soon, assuming that she still has the capacity to understand him.
“It is most likely just a cold. He was out a couple of days ago, right before dawn, to help unload a large shipment of tributes coming from around Cailles. He probably caught something when he was out.” Sairon says somewhat cheerfully.
“A couple days ago? Hasn’t it been raining for the last few days? What possessed him into going out to unload a shipment f tribute? Don’t we have other slaves to do that?”
“We technically do have slaves to do things like that. But unfortunately, most of them were tied up with various chores and duties that morning, so Herrietta decided put Tarrant on the job.”
“And you knew about this?”
Sairon couldn’t have missed the accusation in Angelica’s voice even if he is deaf. The icy tone and deep anger also unnerves him. Knowing that a wrong answer can result in his own demise is not a happy thought, and is a strong incentive for him to stop and carefully phrases everything that will come out of his mouth. “…Yes, Your Majestry, I do know about this, after the fact.”
Seeing the question in Angelica’s eyes, Sairon quickly volunteers more additional information, “I knew about the incident I saw him walking towards his room soaking wet that day and decided to make some inquiries about it.”
“And yet you did nothing about it.”
“I can’t do anything even if I wanted to! Seeing that I am not in charge over the slaves, I can’t do anything over the matter.”
“Then make somebody else in charge of the slaves and make it so that you are in control of the matter!”
“Your Majesty?”
“Make somebody, anybody, in charge of the slaves today. And make it your job that something like this never happens again. Is that clear enough?”
“…Yes, Your Majesty…What should I do with Harrietta, the one who is currently handling the matter?” Sairon inquired carefully. He has postulated what Angelica’s reactions might be when she found out that Harrietta has taken the liberty to order her “favorite” slave around. But never something like this. Perhaps it is a good thing that he is Tarrant’s friend. He has a feeling that soon, very soon, being a close friend of Tarrant’s will do more to ensure his safety than power and status alone.
“Kill her, kick her out of the place, sold her, do whatever you will like. I can careless about what happened to her as long as you get rid of her and get somebody else the job.” Now that she has decided on the appropriate solution to the problem, Angelica can careless about how to achieve Sairon get the job done.
“…But Harrietta is one of the Sisters from the coven. She might prove to be useful later in some other matters. It is perhaps unwise to…”
“Tell her to consider herself lucky that I am not in the mood to make a public entertainment out of her. And we will not need her no matter what happens in the future. Her skills will have no use for us. You will do well to remember that.” Staring intently at Sairon, Angelica interrupts Sairon with clear irritation. Her orders are to be obeyed and carefully carried out, not to be questioned. And if Sairon has forgotten about this iron rule, then she will be more than glad to replace him together with this Harrietta character.
“Yes, Your Majesty. The matter will be handled tonight.” Sairon replies with respect as he kneels down on one knee in front of Angelica to demonstrate his submission.
Even though he has not quite expected the matter to turn out the way it did, he was nevertheless pleased with the result. Harrietta has been in charge of the slaves, servants, and the general housekeeping of the palace for a long time now, in fact, for almost 16 years. While she might be good at the job, Harrietta is also arrogant, ambitious, and devious. While he thinks that her skills in the magical arts might prove to be helpful from time to time, he has to concur with Angelica’s comments. Even though an excellent witch, Harrietta is not really that vital for the benefit of the court. Talented yound witches and wizards constantly comes to the palace willing to enter the service of the court in exchange for food, shelter, protection, and knowledge. With proper training, these young witches and wizards can be just as skilled, if not better, at magic as Harrietta. Perhaps it is best to replace Harrietta before her ambition gets to a point where her powers actually become a threat rather than assistance to the court. And since his lady did mentioned that “anybody” will be fine for the job, he has just the perfect candidate in mind.
Having explained the origin of Tarrant’s illness and resolved the matter over Harrietta, Sairon expects Angelica to walk out of his study and either goes back to her room and sulk, like she does everyday, or wonders around the huge palace. But instead, Angelica merely paces around the study with apparent frustration. Even more intriguing is the fact that she now emits an aura of stress and uncertainty rather than anger a mere minute ago.
“Your Majesty, if there anything else I can be of service?” Sairon inquires tentatively, not sure how Angelica will react to the fact that he has sensed her change in emotion.
To Sairon’s surprise, instead of unleash her anger towards him, Angelica actually stops her pacing and exhales deeply, “it is Tarrant. I mean, I don’t know. I, I can’t figure him out!” Annoyed at her inability to express her concerns in concrete terms, Angelica lets out another deep sigh and starts pacing around the study again.
“I beg your pardon, but I am not sure I understand what you mean, Your Majesty.”
“I mean, Tarrant is…too mysterious. There is just so much about him that doesn’t quite add up and never really makes much sense.” Not to her anyway.
“He is Tarrant, a slave who keeps his words, is honest to a fault, very uptight, and is pretty much perfect all around. He is really not that mysterious, honestly.”
“Exactly, he is too perfect! He is too perfect for a human, for a living, breathing being! He is unreal to the point that it is unnerving.” Maybe that is the reason why she is having problems with Tarrant. Tarrant is just too perfect for him to be true. And nobody that perfect can ever exist. Even if they do, they certainly won’t end up here, with her. She can’t believe, won’t allow herself to believe that somebody as perfect as Tarrant actually exists and is around her without plotting for her demise or something along that line.
Angelica’s words have shocked Sairon and left him speechless. While he has always thought that Tarrant is almost flawless, it has never bothered him at all. And having Angelica has made the same observation does not surprise him, nor does it bother him. However, Sairon is alarmed that Angelica feels unease about Tarrant. Quiet a few members of the court have expressed concern over Angelica’s lavish attention for Tarrant. For them, such a direct demonstration of her interest in a single person, and a slave at that, is particularly bothersome because it means that the previously invulnerable Aneglica now has a weakness that people can take advantage of. Some are also jealoused because at Tarrant because he now has their lady’s full attention. And because of these reasons Tarrant has been enduring some rough treatments from various members in the court. But up to this point, the harassments are not bad enough to become a particular problem or threat to Tarrant, partly due to Sairon’s protection and mostly due to the fear of what Angelica might do to them if she ever found out of the intentional maltreatment or harassment. But if Angelica is having concerns over Tarrant, then the situation might be very different. For one thing, Tarrant might be in serious peril now that Angelica is having her doubts about him.
Up to this point, Sairon never has to worry about Tarrant being hurt seriously. Nobody is stupid enough to actually hurt someone who is currently enjoying Angelica’s full attention. But if she does not trust him, then it becomes awfully easy for others to slip in little lies here and there. Overtime, lies will grow and become doubts. Doubts will turn into suspicion. Once suspicion is formed, it will take no time before Angelica decided to dispose Tarrant. While Tarrant might be a slave, Sairon has never viewed him as anything less than a friend. And if Angelica is really having concerns, maybe it will be best for him to try to somehow get Tarrant out of here before others have the chance to convince Angelica to get rid of him.
Sighs heavily again, Angelica again tries to express the reason for her uneasiness, “Well, for one. Nobody really knows where he is from. He just appears out of blue, from nowhere!”
“He was born in Canter and was living near Dorryn during the war against Lord Urgorn. Then after we allowed him and his two children to leave, he apparently went to live in the village near Cenmine.”
“And Canter happened to be located beyond the Mountain Iulu, Northwest in the land of Guilles. I looked it up on the maps.”
“And this is a problem?”
“If he was born in Guilles, why traveled all the way across the mountains to a small village in Transelle? It doesn’t make any sense!”
“Sure it does. People always migrate because of war and famine. There are some servants and slaves, and even some vampires here who are from around Guilles. And from what they are talking about it is not really a land of peace and abundance. Maybe his mother finally got fed up with whatever disasters she had to face and decided to see what the other side of Iulu has to offer.” Sairon shrugs and offers a perfectly reasonable explanation.
“His mother?”
“Tarrant’s father apparently died before he was born. And as far back as he can remember, they have always been living in Transelle. All his mother would told him was that he was born in Canter and that they had to move to Transelle.”
“What about the fact that he can read, very well in fact. Doesn’t that strike you as weird at all? A farmer knows how to read?”
“His mother is apparently well educated for some reason. She had taught him how to read and write.”
Angelica can’t really believe what she is hearing. She knows that Tarrant considers Sairon as very close friend and vice versa. And she half-expects Sairon to defend Tarrant whenever the needs arise. But she never dreams that Sairon will actually know Tarrant so well, well enough to know things from his childhood.
“And the fact that he never ages? Not for a single day since he came to this place” Angelica finally asks after a long pause. So maybe the other “problems” are a result of her overactive imagination. But the fact that Tarrant never ages is definitely something that demands some kind of explanation. And she is reasonably sure that Sairon will not be able to explain away this problem.
“Well, Tarrant is, after all, your slave, Your Majesty.”
“And what is that suppose to mean?”
“He is close to you, very close to you. Perhaps the fact that he is almost always in close proximity of Your Majesty is the reason why he hasn’t aged a day since he arrived here.”
“Don’t tell me you actually buy that. You know that’s not possible. Nobody gets to be immortal simply by being near a vampire and you know that. The only way we can ever make anybody immortal without making them into a vampire is to bite them and transfer the power through. But no vampire can make somebody immortal just by being near that person! Never! Ever!”
“Never for other vampires. But fortunately or unfortunately, you are not exactly any other vampires, Your Majesty. I mean, how many vampires can walk in direct sunlight without turning into a huge pile of ashes? Given the amount of powers Your Majesty possesses, perhaps the idea that Tarrant can gain immortality simply by being near Your Majesty is really not that far-fetched.”
Is it? While Angelica will love to pretend that it is not the case, she really can’t deny the possibility that Sairon’s suggestions might be true. She does possess powers that other vampires can only dream about. Worse, her powers seem to be growing with time. Vampires, some vampires, get stronger with the passage of time. But as far as she can remember, and know, no vampire can develop new powers simply by getting older. Since she is already an odd ball in so many areas, she might as well be more different and start turning mortal humans into immortal beings.
“Your Majesty?” Even though worried about the relationship between Angelica and Tarrant, Sairon can careless about what Angelica is pondering now. As far as he is concerned, his only wish right at this moment is to somehow get his master out of his study, hopefully very politely and without her realizing that’s what is happening. He is a bit tired about kneeling on one knee and being respectful, having his legs going on a massive strike is also not helping him out much. What’s more, seeing Angelica pacing around the study is making his head very dizzy, and beginning to promise him a massive headache soon.
“I suppose you can be right.” Letting out another deep sigh, Angelica finally stops her pacing and walks around towards the study doors, “See to it that somebody else has the job Harrietta has now before the night is over. And tell Tarrant to take another day off if he needs to.”
After seeing that Angelica has disappeared behind the heavy doors and waited until he is sure that she is out of the hearing range, Sairon happily stands up straight and answers to the now emptied study, “Not a problem.”


“Is it night again?” Tarrant asks in a sleepy and very grumpy voice. If possible, he really wishes he can go right back to bury his head into the soft pillow and pretend that the man leaning on his doorway does not exist.
“No, not yet. And Her Majesty wants me to tell you that you can have tonight off too if you are still not feeling too well. And if you show up looking like you are now, you will get kicked right back down here again, so you might as well relax and stay in bed tonight.” Sairon is enjoying himself. Between seeing Angelica worries herself sick over Tarrant and seeing Tarrant struggling to regain his composure and usual control, maybe he can get use to having all sorts of responsibility and duties as a Count in Angelica’s court just so he won’t miss all these entertaining moments. “…You are enjoying this way too much. Is it still dark out?” Tarrant guess there is actually a solid reason why he is not sick often – so he can avoid amusing Sairon like this. “And if that smirk on your face has anything to do with me, you are done for.”
Ok, so threatening a vampire, especially a vampire lord, might not be too bright an idea. But that smirk is just way too annoying and too scary for him to ignore. From past experiences, Tarrant knows that a smirk on Sairon’s face always translates into disaster, if not major catastrophe.
“Relax, kiddo, I have got great news for you. I promise you will love this one.” Knowing exactly what Tarrant’s reactions might be, Sairon’s smirk broadens into a huge smile. Yes, there is definitely a reason why he decides to stick around and serve in Angelica’s court.
Meanwhile, Tarrant is sincerely wishing that somehow, he can just die right at this minute so he can avoid hearing whatever “good news” Sairon has for him. It is not that Sairon wasn’t sincere when he said he has good news. Truth is, Sairon most likely really do believe that his information, whatever it is, is one of the best thing he can give to recipient. The problem is that most of the time, Sairon’s definition of “good” is a bit different than everybody else’s definition. Seeing the smirk on Sairon’s face turning into such an ominous looking smile is also not very reassuring at all.
“Oh come on, have I ever cause any troubles for you?”
Tarrant’s only reply is shutting his mouth and silently rolls his eyes.
“Ok, fine. So I might have did it once or twice, but never intentionally…. You know what, you need to relax and get less uptight. Otherwise you are destined to die an early death.”
“And I sincerely wish that the stupid sun will burn you to a crisp by the time you are done harassing me.” And the minute you are done harassing me, I will somehow install some damn locks on the door, even if it is the last thing I ever do while I am alive.
“Geesh, such a temper, no wonder Her Majesty likes you so much. Anyway, I am just here to inform you that as of last night, you have been promoted.”
“…Dare I ask to what position?” And maybe, just maybe, he will be able to gather enough energy to kick Sairon out of his doorway by the time Sairon is done with his “good news”.
“You are now in charge of everything related to slaves, servants, and housekeeping of the palace in general. Basically, your new job will be whatever that old witch Harrietta has been doing until yesterday, in addition to serving Her Majesty. Isn’t this great?”
Sairon is really amazed at the amount of curses Tarrant know. And he is right, seeing Tarrant’s reactions really is worth the trouble. Today has to be one of the most interesting days for him ever.

Triumverate, Preface

And the fates of these three will intermingled.
Their wills determine the flow of History.
With their acts,
They shall forever seal away the glory of the Ancient,
And give birth to a brand new Era.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dark midnight sky is completely covered with heavy black clouds while the heavy air is filled with humidity and hot summer scents. Occasionally, a breath-taking silver lightening will interrupt the utter darkness. The distant rolling thunders in the background forewarn the coming of a huge storm. There is no candle or any sources of lights on the balcony or in the room. Yet Angelica stands silently on the large balcony that overlooks the large open field. Despite the complete darkness, her large, icy blue eyes focus intently upon the forest beyond the open field. Darkness never hinders her visions, not for the last 500 or so years anyway. Ever since the day when she was made into a vampire by pure accident, she is gifted with senses and powers beyond anyone’s imagination. She has been the fear of this region, this huge area of land known as Transelle. She is viewed as the embodiment of evil and the mother of all cruelties ever since that day, that hateful day when she was forced to exchange her humanity for powers and abilities that she had never ever wished for. Slowly, Angelica closes her eyes. Right then, a strong gust of wind starts to blow and threatens to destroy everything within its path. The wind is strong, hot, and filled with humidity, the smell of rain, and the angry roars of a dangerous storm. Everybody that has ever come in contact with wind like this would have been left in fear and awe of the nature’s destructive force. That is, everybody but Angelica. For Angelica, things such as storms and lightening can never make her tremble in fear and burst out in tears anymore. After all, when is the last time when she can sense anything other than extreme coldness and death? Coldness and death, they are the only things that she can feel now. When has it started to be like this? Since when has she started to loose interest in all other things? How long has she been living like this, living with no interest, no feeling, and no emotion? Or, can she even say that she is still alive at all? What happened? She has asked herself these questions over and over again but has never been able to come up with any answer. Suddenly something catches her attention and forces her out of her thoughts.
“I thought I have given strict orders not to disturb me tonight.”
Angelica’s voice was calm and quiet, but icy tone of her words still managed to transmit her displeasure to the listener.
As expected, she heard a deep and sharp inspiration coming from the back, as well as the pleasant sound of shaking bones colliding against each other. The room, which was so quite, peaceful, and completely void of emotion just a second ago, now reeked with a sweet scent of fear everywhere. The intruder, a skinny slave girl in her teens, is now shaking so feverishly and so consumed by her own fear that her legs can no longer support her anymore. She knows what happens when anybody angers Angelica in any way. She has heard the painful screams and cries of slaves and powerful vampires, seen them begging for just the slightest mercy, and witnessed their demise in the most horrifying ways possible. And now she herself has angered the she-devil and will soon perish. Shaking with fear, her legs can no longer support her weight and she falls onto the freezing marble floor. Tears come out of her eyes while she somehow forces herself to gather enough energy and strength to voice her excuse, “Lord, Lord Sairon has sent me here…..to, to, to deliver a….a message for him….”
A series of soft chuckles interrupted the slave girl, “my, my, I have no idea that the court is now under Sairon’s command. Perhaps I have been out of touch with the court matters for just a bit too long, don’t you think?” Anglica said in a playful, sarcastic voice as she slowly turns around to finally face the unfortunate slave girl who is on the verge of fainting. The room is now choking with a very heavy scent of fear. Drinking the delicious and ever intoxicating scent of terror and dread, as well as seeing the pitiful state of the slave girl, together with her pleading expression suddenly put Angelica in a sadistic mood. Angered and excited, Angelica decides that she will have some entertainment tonight with this trembling little mouse. And hopefully, this tiny thing will be able to give her enough pleasure to last her for a while. With her mind made up, Angelica slowly approaches the slave girl. The girl whimpers as she tries so very hard to pull herself away from the she-demon, but she is shaking so hard on the floor that her body has barely moved an inch before Angelica arrives right in front of her. Slowly and gently, Angelica uses one hand to left the girl’s chin up so that her eyes are staring directly into the vampire’s charming purple eyes. With her lips curve up in a cruel grin, Angelica tenderly caresses the skin of the girl’s cheek and neck with her other hand. The girl is now choking with tears and sobs with the coming of each icy stroke. Completely immersed in the girl’s fear, Angelica almost does not want to stop and inquire the reason behind Sairon’s disobedience. But she has to. She is the queen of the most feared dark court of the region, the dark and cruel queen in command of a vast army of vampires, some of them hundreds if not thousand years old. Any signs of disobedience and breach of her order is a potential threat to her power and reign, and hence should always be dealt swiftly and mercilessly.
“What’s the message?” Finally, Angelica asks calmly in a sweet, charming, and almost childish voice.
Still sobbing and full of fear, the girl has to breath and concentrate hard before she can force herself to make any audible sound and answer the question her mistress asked, “he, I mean, Lord Sairon ordered me to, to deliver the message that, ‘the man, the man from ten years ago has come, has returned to, to fulfill his promise’. Please, Highness. Please. I will never again disobey your orders, no matter what happens. Never again. Please Highness! You have to forgive me! Please!”
But Anglica is no longer listening to whatever the slave girl is saying. The message of Lord Sairon has grabbed her full attention: the man from ten years ago has returned to fulfill his promise! The man from ten years ago! No, it cannot be. It simply cannot be. Sairon is mistaken,court he must be. That man will never come back. It’s a different man, somebody else, somebody who is completely irrelevant and Sairon was simply out of his mind. This must be the case, or is it? Or has that man really returned?
“Have you seen the man? The men Sairon was referring to? Have you seen him?” Angelica suddenly grabbed the shoulder of the girl kneeling and crying on the floor and asks in a voice that’s no longer icy but full of urgency and with a sense of desperation. “Where are they? Have you seen the man?”
“I, I, I have seen, I mean, Lord Sairon was with a man when he grabbed me and ordered me to deliver the message. But I don’t know if the man is the same one he is referring to.”
“What does the man looks like?”
“He is about 40 or so years old, tall but rather well build, and has long and white blond hair with some silver strands mixed in it.”
As the girl tries to describe the man she has only had a glimpse over, she sees her mistress’s face ashen and her eyes gradually looses their focus. Slowly, Angelica looses her grips on the slave’s shoulder. Silence, not the usual icy and oppressing silence, but a silence of shock and desperation fills the room. The slave looks at her mistress with shock and confusion. She has never saw Angelica like this before. In fact, she is positive that nobody has ever saw Angelica like this before. Angelica is never shaken by anything. She is cold, cruel, and heartless. And her cruelty and her heartless make Angelica fearless. Those who institute fears among the others to a point that they become the physical manifestation of fear can never taste the feel of fear and never be shaken. And yet, there is Angelica, with unfocused eyes, gaped mouth, and colorless face, visibly stunned by something. What is going on? What could have stunned Angelica? Completely forgot her fear, the slave looks at Angelica with amazement and a sudden interest.
All of a sudden, a thunder stricken near the balcony and creates a deafening sound. Then the rain starts pouring down from the black sky laden with layers upon layers of dark storm clouds. The storm is finally here.
Eternity seems to have passed before Angelica finally seems to have gathered enough of her senses to break the silence, “where are they now?” Angelica asks quietly, and with some kind of determination and, surprisingly, sadness.
“Lord Sairon and the man are in the Grant Hall.”
Without another words, Angelica moves out of the room with the speed of lightening, leaving the slave girl in complete darkness and amazement.


Angelica run through the long hallways toward the Great Hall of the castle, accompanies by the constant lightening, thunders, and pouring rains. She is running with emotions, wide ranges of emotions, stirring up inside her and plaguing her minds and her senses. She runs as fast as she could while fear, desire, dread, sorrow, excitement, and other feelings that she cannot give names to mercilessly bombard her heart, a heart that she thought she had forever lost. She wants to run away from it all, she wants to run away from the Grant Hall, from the palace, from Transelle, and escapes to anywhere so she does not have to face the man, the man she thought she will never ever have to face again. But instead, she runs toward her destination. As she runs along the hallway, accompanies by the great storm outside of the castle, memories from ten years ago flows back to her mind. Memories that she thought she has forgotten already flows back to her in such clarity that she almost starts to wonder if they are actually real, or if she had somehow fallen asleep and this had all been a very realistic dream.
“Please release them. I am willing to do anything, to trade places with them, to do whatever you have planned for them, to endure whatever torture you wish to bring upon them. Whatever you wish to do, I shall willingly and happily accept, but please let them go!”
The man had pleaded in the Great Hall, in front of her and her entire court. Unlike all the other men and women who had stood in front of her before, he had not pleaded for his own life. Instead, he had stubbornly pleaded for the lives of his two children, who were captured the previous night by her army as they ransacked the village his and his children lived in. He had pleaded and pleaded until finally, when she showed absolutely no signs of concession, he changed his request.
“If you are so unwilling to show some mercy and release my two children, then please grant my other wish. Please allow me to stay with them and share with them whatever pain and suffering that might befall on them. Let me be with them until their death, and let me perish with them.”
Angelica impatiently waved the request away as if waving away an annoying pest. She was somewhat entertained with the whole performance at first, but now it was getting rather tiresome. This man has obviously come to her with an unrealistic expectation of. What is this? Asking her to release the people she has taken as slaves, even if they are just mere children? True, she will probably never permit people in her court to lay their hands upon them, not until they are a bit older anyway. But that does not mean that she will release them upon a parent’s request. In a few years, the two will either become rather nice rewards for her loyal subjects, or fetch her decent prices when sold as slaves. They might even be entertaining toys, useful for times when she feels like watching a torture or two but cannot find suitable targets. Why shall she release the two just because she cannot find immediate uses for them?
“Its getting late and dawn is approaching. Although you were a splendid entertainer and it was quite interesting to watch you perform, the performance is getting tiresome. Leave now and nothing should come to you. As for the two, think of them as lost to some nature disaster and forever lost.”
“I shall never leave the door of this castle. I have come here to plead for the lives of my two children, my flesh and blood, and I will never leave if they are not allow to leave with me. If they are to perish here, then this place will also be my grave.”
“What the hell is wrong with you? I have offered you a chance to walk out of here and live, a chance that I have never offered to anybody who came before me. Why will you care for these two children? Leave now. If you wish for somebody to carry your family name, or some other children, then bed their mother when you get back home. Or bed a girl from somewhere. Bed another if you wish. Couple months later, the two will be nothing more than two meaningless names and blurry faces. Soon you should be grateful that I have allowed you to leave here alive.”
For a while, the man speaks nothing and merely stares at the marble floor. Perhaps he is pondering about the wisdom in her word? Angelica thought with amusements. Yes, that must be the case. Very soon, the man will beg her forgiveness and leave the place, run away from the castle as fast as humanly possible, and then moved on. After all, children are easy to come by, but one’s life is always more valuable than anything else. But what the man utters when he finally speaks again surprised her.
“The mother of the girl, the younger of the two, died giving birth to her. She loved her children dearly, so dear that death means nothing to her if it can save any of her children. I have promised their mother, right after she had breathed her last, that I would look after all of her children, protect and care for them, until they have reached maturity. And I intend on keeping my vow to her. If I cannot guarantee their safety and cannot save them from death, then I want to be with them. I wish to be with them so that they at least know that their father had not abandoned them.”
She had released the two children, had allowed the man to leave safely with the children, and had even went as far as to leave strict order that as long as the family resides in her territories, nobody shall ever harm any of them. Prior to his departure, the man had vowed to come back when his youngest daughter reaches adulthood. But she never gave it much thought. The promise was never taken seriously and was never the reason why she decided to let them go. Even now, she still has no idea what had prompted her to do what she had done. She only knew that there is a sudden but strong desire to let the man go with his beloved children, despite the protests of her subjects.
“You have made a grave mistake my lady. Even if you had no desire to make uses of the two immediately, they will be very valuable later with proper training. Even the man, although already at his 30s, will be quite valuable as a toy or a slave. There are people in this court who will be very delighted to keep him as a reward for their service.” The Steward of her court at that time had protested. “They had just left and couldn’t have gone far. A couple of soldiers are all we need to bring them back.”
Her logic had made the same argument to her and demanded her to bring them back again. But instead, she obeyed the urges of her heart.
“They were my possession and mine to do as I pleased. My decision is made and my orders given. Unless you wish to start an open revolt against me, you will do well to remember that I am your master, and my orders are to be obeyed to the letter.”
She had followed the urges of her heart despite the protests of her logic back then. And now, once again, she has followed the urges of her heart and come to the doors of the Great Hall despite the protests of her logic.
Go and open these doors. A small voice said. Open these doors, and find what you had lost and wished for.
Breathes in deeply, Angelica opens the heavy doors and walks into the bright and well lit hall.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Excuse me; I had made a contract with Lady Angelica ten years ago. Can you please pass on the message to her that I am now here to meet the terms of the contract?” A man asks the guards stationed in the watch house in front of the palace. Surprised, the guards look at the man with genuine shock and disbelief. Why is there anybody asking for their queen, the child vampire who everybody, be it living or dead, wishes to avoid at all costs?
“Excuse me?” Hearing no answer, the man repeats himself again and wonders at the odd behaviors of the guards.
“Lady Angelica is not well and had sent out strict orders that nobody should disturb her tonight. Is there somebody else that we can pass the message to?”
Hearing the reply, the man silently raises one of his eyebrows. He had never heard of a vampire “not feeling well” before. In fact, he never thought it possible for a vampire to be sick or not feeling well. But more importantly, he knows nobody else other than Angelica. True, there were other vampires present ten years ago during his audience with Lady Angelica. But she had never introduced any of them to him and he had never learned the names of any of them. Even if they still remember him and is expecting him, how is he going to direct these guards to find any of those vampires present that night? And without some kind of help, how is he going to be able to get pass the guards or otherwise make his presence known to Lady Angelica? As he ponders at the situation and tries to come up with a solution, a rider arrives at the watch house and swiftly dismounts from the horse. Looking at the man and then at the guards, the rider twitches his eyebrows in clear confusion.
“What’s going on?”
“Lord Sairon,” the guards bow and answer with great respect, “this man appeared about couple of minutes ago and asked us to send word to Lady Angelica that he is here to complete the terms of the contract he made with her ten years ago. However, we are afraid to do so because Lady Angelica had given strict order that nobody should disturb her tonight. We were just asking him if he knows anybody else who we may deliver the message to.”
“Contract? Ten years ago?” Lord Sairon mutters to himself as he takes a closer look at the mysterious man. Then suddenly, his eyes brighten and a cheerful smile appears on his face, “I remember you now! You were here ten years ago, pleading for Lady Angelica to release your two children! You had made a promise that you would come back as soon as the little girl reaches adulthood. She must be about 15 years old now. Is she alright? What’s your name? You have probably introduced yourself way back then, but the name never sticks to my mind.”
“Yes, thanks to the kindness of Lady Angelica. In fact, she is now married and thus I am here, as promised. My name is Tarrant DeCanter.”
“I am surprised that you actually came back as promised. I doubt anybody is expecting you. Well, looks like a storm is coming this way very soon. Why don’t we go in? I am sure Lady Angelica will be delighted to know that you are here. By the way, I am Sairon.” The man said as he signals the guards to open the gates to the castle. “Honestly, why will you ever come back here after all these years is beyond me.”
“Why is that so?” Now is Lange’s turn to be surprised. Had he not make himself clear that he will return as soon as his children are grown?
“Well, for one, you had promised to come back as a slave. Now I might be wrong on this, but I am under the impression that becoming the slave of a vampire, a slave of Lady Angelica in particular, is to be avoided at all costs.” Sairon shrugged his shoulders and replied while the guards worked swiftly to open the heavy gates of the castle. “I don’t think anybody took your promise seriously back then. We all thought that once you walked out of those doors, you would never come back voluntarily. In fact, I doubt that even Her Highness took you seriously”
“Her Highness?”
“Lady Angelica. She has conquered some more vampire lords during these past ten years. Now she is known as a queen of sorts among the vampires. We have certainly adapted to addressing her as such” Sairon replies in a rather casual manner as he walks pass the gates.
So Angelica is now a queen instead of a powerful vampire lord. Well, that certainly explains why she had moved into a new place. As he follows Lord Sairon’s lead, Tarrant can’t help but think about the idea of Angelican becoming a queen among the vampires. When he first set out to fulfill his promise roughly two months ago, he was a bit surprised that Angelica has moved. He is also surprised at the size of her new residence. But then again, why should he be surprised at all? As far as he can recall, Angelica has always been a symbol for everything evil among the residents of Transelle. It is foolish to assume that somebody who is regarded as the embodiment of utter darkness by all the residents of a land as large as Transalle to live a peaceful life. Now that he actually thinks about it, maybe he should be more surprised that Angelica had not yet claim the whole continent as her territory and make herself an Empress yet. Perhaps her appearance had fooled him? Unlike most other vampires, who look grown, healthy, and fit, Angelica appears to be nothing but a child, and a weak, delicate, and vulnerable child at that. Angelica has the appearance of a delicate doll in needs of protection. Maybe that’s why he was surprised when Lord Sairon told him that she has conquered powerful vampire lords that had established their domain since the bygone ages? Then, suddenly, Tarrant’ attention shifts from Angelica to the man currently leading the way for him.
Lord Sairon. That’s what he said his name is, Tarrant thought to himself, as his eyes carefully wonder around and study the vampire’s back profile. The vampire is tall, well built, and well groomed. He cannot associate the face of Lord Sairon with any of the vampires in the large audience room ten years ago. But then again, there were a lot of vampires and slaves there ten years ago. With so many people present, he certainly could not have remembered everybody’s faces. Whatever the case is, he is certainly not expecting any vampire to be so…high spirited. Isn’t there an unwritten rule somewhere that vampires are suppose to be cruel, stoic, and composed? The way Lord Sairon has been talking to him is much more like a man talking to an acquaintance or a friend who has been away for a long time rather than a vampire talking to a slave. Somehow, this journey had not been what he had expected. Tarrant thought to himself.
The two men walked quietly the rest of the way. The castle, actually, the whole thing is more like a palace than a castle, is much bigger than the one he had visited and well decorated. Even in the dark and stormy night, Tarrant can still see that there are several grand buildings scattering around inside the palace walls. The hallways connecting these buildings are carefully designed and well decorated. Aside from the large structure, there are also much more people living within the palace. As he follows Lord Sairon’s lead, Tarrant sees several servants running around the places doing various errands. Finally, Sairon leads him into a particularly huge structure that looks like the main building within the palace. As they are about to enter the great archway in front of the building, Sairon suddenly stopped a skinny looking servant who happens to be passing by, “Jule, I need you to let Her Highness know that she has a guest.”
The girl’s eyes suddenly enlarged, “but, but Her Highness left a strict order not to…”
“I know about that. Do I look like an idiot who will go out and find certain death for myself? Trust me, she will forgive your disobedience this time.”
“We are talking about the same person here right? Are you insane my lord? She will torture me to death first. And if that has given her enough pleasure, then maybe, just maybe, she might consider giving you a swifter death instead of a slow one.”
“Jule, come on, have I ever put you in danger before? You know that I won’t do that to you”
“I am not going, not even if you kill me!”
“Jule, go tell Her Highness that she has a guest, this is an order!”
“I am NOT going!”
Signed, Sairon kneeled on one leg in front of the determined girl, “Jule, my pretty darling, Her Highness really needs to know about this. Will you do it? Please? Pretty please? Just tell her that ‘the man from ten years ago has come, has returned to, to fulfill his promise’. Her Highness will not do anything to you at all after she hears that. I promise. Now will you go? Please? For me?” If anything, Tarrant is utterly amazed at how innocent, sincere, and persuasive Sairon looks. Has he not know any better, he will swear to every single god he ever knows that Sairon is a young man pleading with his lover for a secret night out, or a father pleading with his daughter to join him in some pranks that she know her mother will hate. Actually, even knowing that Sairon is a vampire, and probably a darn powerful one too, given his apparently high position in Angelica’s court, Tarrant can still swear that a harmless prank is exactly what Sairon is planning right now.
Maybe the innocent look finally does the trick. Or maybe it is the “pretty please?” that has managed to melt the girl’s firm determination. Or maybe that the girl actually believed that, somehow, Angelica will not torture her to death. Whatever the reason, the girl finally nodded her head and told Sairon she will do it.
Smiling the most charming smile that Tarrant has ever seen, Sairon happily pats the girl’s head, “Thanks Jule. You are awesome! Oh, and tell her that we will be waiting in the Grand Hall for her.”
“You actually think that she will care enough to want to know where you are, my lord? Are you sure you are feeling well tonight?”
“Trust me, she will want to know. Even if she is somehow not interested in the guest for some insane reasons, she will still want to know my whereabouts so she can kill me for disobedience, right?” Sairon said light heartedly.
Astounded, the girl quietly mutters to herself, “I swear, the moment I was assigned to you as a slave is the saddest moment of my life.”
“Yeah, whatever. Just go tell Her Highness soon. Grant Hall has windows, lots of them. And I prefer not to be in there by the time sun comes up…Actually, tell you what, if you hurried up and we get this thing taken care of before dawn, we can even have some ‘quality time’ together. It will be my treat, how’s that?”
“Assuming that we are both still alive at that time”
“Trust me, we will be alive. Now hurry up, girl!”
Speachless, the girl angrily turns around and quickly walks away.
“Alright, now all we have to do is to wait in the Grand Hall. Come on, let me show you where it is.” Sairon said as he gladly leads the way around the grand building. The building is huge, to a point where every step Tarrant takes on the well polished marble floor causes an echo. The hallways in the buildings are all designed with special vaulted roof. Heavily draped windows are present on one side of the hall way. Maybe because it is night time, or maybe because no vampire is stupid enough to be walking around during day time, but whatever the reason, the drapes are slightly parted, which allows the lightening to travel pass the glass into the dimly lit corridor. The occasional silver flashes of lightening create an eerie environment well suited for the palace of a vampire queen. Most people would have found the eerie environment terrifying. But to Tarrant, this peculiar setting is actually rather soothing, since the peculiar environment created by lightening and storm is about the only thing that makes him feel like he is in the right place. Prior his arrival, he has imagined several scenarios about what might happen once he has arrived. But even in his wildest dream he had never thought that he would heard of a vampire queen “not feeling well”, met a happy go poppy vampire lord, and witnessed the “discussion” that took place between Lord Sairon and the slave girl Jule.
“So I taken that nobody here is actually expecting me?” Tarrant asks as Sairon finally opens a huge double door leading to what he assumes to be the Grand Hall.
“Of course, why will we be expecting you? Humans don’t usually visit us unless there is something going on. And since there is no wars, no calamities of any kinds, and no possible territorial disputes between warring vampires, we really are not expecting anybody to pay us much attention.” Sairon answers in a matter of fact manner as he closes the doors behind them.
“Well, I was under the impression that since I had promise that I would come back once my children were grown, there would be people who were expecting me to show up right around now.”
“Time changes my friend, especially if you serve in a vampire court like this one. I seriously doubt if much of the people who were present during your audience with Her Highness ten years ago is still around now. In fact, I am willing to place a bet that I am probably the only one there who somehow managed to stay alive through all these years.”
Hearing this, Tarrant can’t help raising his eyebrows in astonishment.
“You look surprised. Is it really that hard to believe? That most of us died during the past ten years?”
“Why is it not surprising? There were at least twenty, thirty, or maybe even forty people there that night. And here you are, telling me that all of them except you are dead?”
“There are 37 of us there, give or take, since there are probably some servants and slaves present as well. It is always hard to know the precise number of servants and slaves present during an audience or any formal functions. Oh, and there are also some guards there. Probably ten of them. So there are probably about 50 or 60 people present in the room. Which room was it? I think it was one of the audience halls back at Castle Flairwale. But to answer your question, yes, those of us who serves Her Highness do die rather easily. Actually, any vampires who serves under a vampire master or mistress tends to die very easily. But I do admit, Her Highness does tend to kill us faster than other masters or mistresses.”
“…But why? Won’t that be counterintuitive? To kill vampires? I can understand if slaves died at a fast rate. But vampire lords?”
Sairon shrugs, “people always think that we kill slaves quickly and cold heartedly, which is actually not entirely false. And there are vampires who killed slaves at an astounding rate. But most of us do try to keep them alive for as long as possible, or for as long as they remain usable. We need them alive for all sorts of things. And it is hard to replace them without angering the villagers or getting us into pointless wars. We are not really worried about revolting since the odds almost always favoring us. But even if we do win, there are still some costs we need to pay. And really, you never know when is the time when somebody insane comes up who is actually brave and stupid enough to topple our reign. As for vampires, well, we are more expandable. There are always vampires around waiting to take the places of the dead ones. And new ones can be created. Besides, there really won’t be much problem if there is less vampire lords or ladies around in any court at any time.”
“Great, it is nice to know that vampires can ‘feel unwell’ and are expandable. I guess just learning about these things is worth the trip here” Not to mention that I actually met a rather talkative and easy going vampire.
Tarrant’ sarcastic comment makes Sairon to laugh so hard Tarrant can swear that he actually saw tears coming out of Sairon’s eyes, “Her Highness is not really ‘feeling unwell’, at least not physically anyway. She is just depressed and lacks the energy and the interest to deal with anybody. She is like that 9 out of 10 days. But I will bet that things will start change for her, soon” Sairon explains as he stares at Tarrant in a very weird and yet meaningful way.
Somewhat unnerved, Tarrant is just about to inquire about Sairon’s enigmatic remarks when the double doors are suddenly open and a slender figure rushes in. Seeing the person standing in the doorway, Sairon immediately kneeled on one knee, “your Highness.”




He is here. The man is really here. He is slightly older now compared to ten years ago, which is to be expected, since human do age. Instead of the pale blond hair, his hair is now mostly silvery white. Although not very obvious, there are some tiny lines at the end of his eyes and his mouth. But overall, he is just as she has remembered ten years ago. The only problem is that he is not supposed to be here at all. Memories. He has been a sweet memory tucked deep in her brain for ten long years. And that’s where he should have remained, in her memories. He is not supposed to be here, in front of her. He should never have come back. Why? Why will he ever want to come back after all these years, after knowing what will happen to him? Why?
“….Why?” Of all the things she could have said, of all the commands she could have made, “why” is the only word Angelica managed to get out of her mouth, in such a light whisper that the word is almost inaudible.
“I beg you pardon, My Lady?”
“Why? Why are you…..why are you here?” Slowly, very slowly, Angelica walks towards the man standing in the Grand Hall. He is not supposed to be here. He is gone. I let he go ten years ago. Nobody would have come back after that. Nobody. Angelica keeps telling herself in her mind as she approaches the man at a snail’s pace. This is nothing but a dream. A beautiful and sweet dream. He is not real, Angelica, you know this. Once I try to touch him, he will disappear into thin air, and I will be awaken in my bed as the sunsets. That’s it, I will wake up from all of this soon, and everything will go back to normal. Very soon, she will suddenly be wake up from her sleep. And then, she will realize that this is just a pleasant dream, one that will comfort her after she is awaken and one that she will probably cherishes for a very, very long while. She is now at an arm’s length with the man. The man is so tall that, even with him tipping his head downward, she has to tilt her head to be able to look at his face. Staring into the pair of deep, dark, and mysterious blue eyes, Angelica realizes that she can now touch him if she reaches her arm out. And that is the logical thing to do, isn’t it? To reach out, touch him, and prove that he is really here. To prove that the man is really here, in her court, standing in front of her. But she is chocking with fear.
What if it really is a dream? What if her hand goes right through his body and “poof!” she is awake in her bed? If this is nothing but a dream, then she wants it to last. She wants the dream to last, for as long as a dream possibly can, to last for an eternity if she can help it.
“My lady?” Tarrant asks in a concerned voice and kneels down so that Angelica can look into his face without tipping her head upward. He has pictured the scenario of their meeting in his head numerous times already. But of all the scenes he comes up with, this is never one of them. He never expected Angelica to look so….surprised, shocked, dazed…and outright scared. For a second, he wonders if he has unknowingly done or said anything to scare the vampire. Why is she looking as if something utterly unbelievable and shocking is unfolding?
“My lady?” Tarrant asks again more anxiously as he sees what looks like tears in Angelica’s eyes. True, nothing is as he has expected ever since he arrives at the palace. Yet, for the most part, those bizarre occurrences are still within a somewhat acceptable range. But this is getting out of the hand. Can somebody, anybody, please explain to him why the supposedly most scary vampire of Transelle is now on the verge of crying?
Eyes following Tarrant’ eyes while he is kneeling down, Angelica can’t help but notice the concern and puzzlement that are radiating out of those pupils. They look so real. So real that she can sense them in the air, just like the fear she had sensed from the slave girl in her room a few moments back. Breathes deeply, she summons as much courage as she possible can and very, very, very timidly reaches out her trembling arm to touch his. To her surprise, her fingers have not gone right through his arm. Nor has she found herself staring at the ceiling of her chamber. Instead, her small and icy hand rests on the man’s left arm. The sleeve of his coat feels damp and coarse, while the heat radiating from his arm warms her hand. Angelica now shifts her gaze, and her full attention to her hand in disbelief. It is real. This is really happening.
“…..You are not a dream….You are real, you are really here…” Angelica whispers as she finally manages to look back into Tarrant’ eyes. Tears that has been welling up in her eyes ever since seeing him now rolls down her cheek in droplets. “Why? Why do you come back?” She asks again. She shouldn’t have cared about his answers. Afterall, he is here. Why bother with the reasoning behind his action? But she wants to know. For reasons that she can’t even pinpoint, she wants to know. She wants to know what makes the man to voluntarily come back to the most feared vampire through out the region of Transelle. She has to know.
“I have come back, as promised.”
“…as promised.”