Blood Memoir: Convergence (Shade)

[LadyElvenarcher]

OoC: ...Gee, this seems familiar... << Good thing I actually saved this... Darn hackers. Take two...

IC:

Loneliness…

Trees—solid black and blue and dark green trees—all around. They hurtled past in a blur. She barely registered their unearthly hues. All she knew was the sensation of her bare feet pounding the ground. Where she sprinted and for what reason, she was not aware. In the back of her mind, she was fully convinced she had to reach her destination before something horrifying came to pass. And yet, she did not know what such an event could be.

Ecstasy…

A sudden burst of light illuminated her immediate surroundings but nearly blinded her in the process. Upon removing her hand from her eyes, the sight of a sunlit break in the seemingly endless sea of trees—a clearing—greeted her. Birds twirled lazily through the air, chirping happy choruses understandable only to themselves. They were joined by the sporadic butterfly that floated among the flowers carpeting the clearing floor. Everything about the scene was euphoric, and she moved to the center, inhaling deeply the pleasant, reassuring scents of life dancing on the warm breezes.

Brokenness…

Without warning, the sun was blotted out, plunging everything in her view into darkness. A cold wind swept by, sending chills straight into her bones. A soft crunch sounded behind her. Whirling around in panic, she searched in vain for the source of the noise. Nothing but emptiness. It practically laughed in her face, filled her with a sudden need to weep. The emptiness pressed in around her, threatening to rip every last bit of hope she possessed to shreds. And then, it stirred.

Fear…

Cold settled over her, but this was not caused by any external source. Something was behind her. And she knew it wanted her. The slightest hint of a breath brushed against her neck, and she stiffened visibly. Despite her efforts to banish her frightening thoughts, she continuously convinced herself that benevolent intentions seemed furthest from the invisible presence’s mind. Only a powerful malice tinged with…

Lust…

Her eyes widened in sudden realization. There was only one entity she knew would harbor such feelings for her. If it was indeed him… She fled, not caring which direction she ran, only that it took her far away from him. Spreading her wings, she flew just above the ground, dodging trees as best she could in the nearly pitch blackness. But no matter how she strained her wings, no matter how she begged and pleaded inwardly for speed, that breath constantly feathered upon her neck, as though he were clinging stubbornly to her even as she flew to escape him.

Sanctuary…

An abrupt wall of bright colors exploded into her vision. With a crash, she shattered the stained glass window and hit the floor of the cathedral in a crumpled mess. After a few moments of stillness, she pushed herself to her knees and shook her head, glancing about, vestiges of fear still holding her. The church was elaborate in design, enormous stained glass windows depicting various key moments from the Holy Scriptures in brilliant hues paneling the walls. The ceilings arched overhead at least twenty feet. Stillness pervaded the atmosphere, and a relieving peace filled her.

Damnation…

In an explosion of metal, thick chains burst from every corner of the cathedral and clamped upon her wrists and ankles. A cry of frightened surprise escaped her lips as the chains retracted somewhat and held her suspended in the middle of the sanctuary—now suddenly a misnomer. In vain, she struggled to free herself. As though summoned by the rattling of her chains, a voice, commanding and haughty, pierced the air.

“Mariana.”

From out of the shadows cast by the massive altar at the front, a figure appeared. Tall and regal, he looked the very picture of an archangel. Long, golden-brown hair flowed smoothly to his shoulder blades, complemented by his piercing golden eyes, which seemed to bore straight into her soul as he looked at her. He was clothed entirely in white, yet the billowing robes he wore at the moment failed to hide his muscular body. Her eyes trailed down his bare chest part of the way to rest upon the Ruberisigna.

“Vauthor.” She paused for a moment in her strained acknowledgement of his presence. “What is this?”

He smirked, an unfriendly light shimmering faintly in his eyes. “You aren’t happy to see me?”

“I don’t have to answer that question.”

A chuckle, also unfriendly. “I suppose you don’t.” He fixed her with a condemning stare, magnified by the holy light now slowly forming an aura of gold around him. “How dare you enter this sacred place and pollute it with your filth?”

Visibly stung by his remark, a few tears brimmed in Mariana’s violet eyes. “My filth? Is that what you think of me? I’m a Seal Guardian, just as you are.”

Vauthor’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized the Argentsigna which did indeed dangle from the vampire angel’s neck. “Some oversight, I’m sure. One which will soon be corrected.”

She squirmed against her chains once more, knowing full well it was a pointless action, but afraid to ask the question. “…What do you mean ‘corrected’?”

An unpleasant grin formed on his face. “So full of questions, are you? You’ll know in just a moment, but first…there is something I’m most certain you’ll want to hear about.” He moved closer to the edge of the altar which was still veiled in the shadows.

Something about where he was going triggered memories, and she immediately guessed what he must be planning. “If you’re only trying to remind me of Cedric, it won’t work. I’ve suffered enough over his death, and I’ve passed through it. I know it wasn’t my fault. …Not entirely.”

Vauthor laughed outright. “That boy? You think I’m merely going to play with your mind a bit before I strip you of your rank? How simple-minded you are! No, no, no… I have a question for you. Word reached my ears that your damned and carnal relationship with the vampire was severed.”

Mariana winced, not needing any further reminding of the hole in her heart because of it. “Yes, he and I parted. What concern is it to you?”

“Would you like to know where he is?”

Mariana’s heart leaped. He knew where Max was? But why would he offer to help her find him again? “You’d…tell me where he is? Why? I thought you abhorred him. And me being with him.”

She sincerely doubted his smile could get any more unpleasant. “He’s here, in this very room with us.” And then, Vauthor spread his self-illumination outwards, laying bare the contents of the altar to Mariana’s eyes.

An anguished scream tore from her throat.

Maximilian was spread across the marble, limp. But what drew her horrified gaze was not his face but the huge wooden stake stabbed directly into his chest. A numbness slowly crept over her, as her emotions were too varied and too powerful for her to express for the time being. Her mouth dry, she tried her best to form coherent words. “…Why…? Why did you do this…? He’s done nothing to you…”

“He existed! That was sin enough! Judgment was passed on him by higher powers than me. I was merely Yahweh’s hand.”

She could contain it no longer. “I won’t believe that!” Melancholic rage consumed her, and she used her newfound strength to tear herself free from the chains and fly to Max’s body. Removing the stake from his chest, she immediately placed a hand over the wound to seal it. But she knew enough to know he wouldn’t stir, and she buried her head in his chest, weeping profusely, clinging to his still form as though her life depended on it. He was her tangible anchor in her current state. She had persistently held to the thought that nothing could kill him, that he would always be there no matter what. Sobbing hard, tears seeping into his shirt, she teetered dangerously on the edge of insane oblivion. “No…no, I didn’t want to find you like this…”

Suddenly, she was yanked away by Vauthor, who had grasped her wings. Wailing, Mariana stretched her hand out to Max, desperate just to touch him. Pain exploded all along her back, and she was dumped unceremoniously onto the floor. She felt sticky wetness all over her and noticed with terror that her sapphire blood was splashing down in streams. Looking up at Vauthor, she cried out again, for he was standing there, holding her severed wings in his left hand.

“You won’t be needing these anymore.” In disgust, he tossed what were in his eyes abominations to the side, then latched his hand onto her neck and ripped the Argentsigna off its chain. “And you certainly won’t need this, either.”

With another scream of protest, Mariana woke up.

Curled up against the side of a tree, she trembled, the effects of the nightmare still lingering. Despite her best efforts, she could not banish the images of Max staked to the altar of that church—his still body, his darkened eyes, the absence of warmth…

Standing immediately to her feet, she prayed harder than she ever had. I need to know where he is. Just that he’s alright. I don’t know what I’d do if he was… She swallowed hard. Please…please let me find him. Please take me to him.

A thin ribbon of silvery light snaked out of the center of the Argentsigna and off through the trees, as though beckoning her to follow it. Her eyes followed it, and she offered up her heartfelt thanks, first to her Father, then to the Argentsigna itself. Without questioning, she set off along the trail, hoping that she would indeed find Max at the end of it.

It wasn’t long before Mariana came upon a stretch of ruins. The light still called her onward, so she willingly followed, not entirely sure why Max would be in such a place. Amidst the stones, she spied a lone figure sitting in the middle of a ring of stones and gazing upward toward the stars that sprinkled the night sky. Hope surged within her, and she moved closer, throwing caution mostly to the wind. But when she drew near enough to make out a more detailed appearance, she knew it wasn’t him at all. The silver light, however, had stopped, circling lazily around the man as though signifying that this was who she was to find. Taking a slow breath, she again quieted her fears as much as possible and ventured a somewhat timid greeting.

“Hello…”

[The Shademan]

When the silver had come around the bend, the mystic came abruptly back to himself; jolted out of his observances, he formed a nervous fist with both hands. As he turned his head to her, the bangs which hung in a thick grey curtain between his eyes swayed gently. It was a young woman. Scratch that. Angel. She had greeted him somewhat timidly, and because of that, he tried his best to soften his intense expression. There was no danger here.

"Have you come to punish me for Gerard?" He asked this in a knowing voice, as if he had known all along she would come here. His gray skin was cracked, like an old porcelain doll, and he was holding a long staff. A blade was strapped to his back. He noticed her looking at what little clothes he wore. A patterned cloth with sleeves wrapped around his chest, leaving his stomach and shoulders exposed. They both looked like they were made of clay, shaped into human form, and marked by more of those same cracks. The long skirt that he wore, which was held on by a belt, wrinkled in small folds about his feet, with the exception of a place where a section of his naked thigh was visible, and part of his leg.

"Well? Are you going to answer me?" She stammered that she didn't know about Gerard. She was looking for a man, she said. A vampire named Maximilian. The gray man's lips curved pleasantly, managing a small smile.

"I know him, I know him." She was ecstatic at this, practically doing backflips in her mind. This made him smile more broadly, and as he reached to adjust the brim of his long hat, she embraced him with a warm hug. Nearly falling over, he told her that his name was Ja'gan, and if anyone could find him, he could. As she smiled back at him, he noticed her fangs. So, she was like him. No surprise there, he thought.

Moments later, they were sitting by a stream, and Ja'gan had removed his hat. Without it, he suspected he looked much younger. Instead of enjoying their comfortable position, however, Mariana looked impatient. He could see it in the corners of her eyes. She didn't want to wait the night before they went to find him, even though when Ja'gan had suggested it, she had thoughtlessly agreed. So, it was obvious she would regret her decision. To see such longing, and in some way, contribute to it, was impermissible to him. When he rose to his feet, Mariana quickly copied him.

"To find him, I'm going to need to invoke Hræsvelg. This is a guardian of the Western winds, which I believe is the Patron Saint of Seekers. Don't be frightened if it comes near...It doesn't like loud noises." With a gesture, he shooed Mariana from him, and she came to a rest beside a large boulder.
He lifted his hands to the sky, and began to stomp. Once southward, once north, once east, and the final two, west. He repeated this several times, slowly gyrating his arms and crossing them over one another in a graceful pattern. Almost immediately after his last stomp, a huge explosion a small distance away sent rocks and chunks of wood in their direction. One of the former grazed Ja'gan's cheek, but he bled only slightly. He didn't even flinch, his eyes locked on the approaching vision of talons and huge, beating wings that swirl and distort their surroundings.

"He who fans the flames, moves the seas and cools the brow! HAIL!" Ja'gan submitted before the figure, falling to his knees. After his brief show of respect, he addressed the being once more, this time with an air of business.

"Lord Hræs...Sympathizer of those who seek but cannot find, this angel needs her love! His kiss is memory, his body lost, where can she rest her weary eyes?"

The air around them became very still as the guardian thought. Even the leaves ceased their falling, and nearby particles of dust suspended themselves in the air. Shortly after, the spirit began to reply.

[LadyElvenarcher]

Regal magnificence fixed its fierce eyes upon her, drew her inside them. Despite the waves of pained dizziness that lapped on the shores of her brain, Mariana could not look away. When it spoke, the sound was like unto that of breezes rustling leaves or the cut of the wind upon the swells of the ocean—soothing, yet still commanding all at once.

His appearance, I must know it. She wasn’t sure if the creature spoke solely to her inside her mind or if Ja’gan, too, could hear.

Almost immediately, the image of Max dead on the altar rose unbidden in her thoughts, every detail still disturbingly stark in her memory. Upon realizing what she was thinking, the vampire angel shook her head violently, dispelling the image and replacing it with a less morbid one. She didn’t know that he was in any danger at all, and she needed to banish this persistent pessimism.

Hræsvelg leaned his head to the side briefly. He had seen the first thing that had appeared in Mariana’s head, and he brushed a gentle stream of wind against her cheek, offering a small comfort. Then, he released her eyes from his hold on them and turned his back on both Mariana and Ja’gan, folding his great wings against his body in deep concentration. Slowly, thin wisps of wind—visible wind—seeped from his body and floated, lazily at first, off in every direction. As the seconds ticked by, the minute wisps turned into strong gusts, racing off as though they were sentient beings in themselves.

Mariana watched the streams disappear into the horizon and then glanced over at Ja’gan, who gave her a look that said, “Just wait.” In barely two beats of the vampire angel’s heart, Ja’gan’s words of advice proved trustworthy, for the ribbons of green came streaking back into view. They swirled around the wind guardian, and he tilted his head to the side as though listening intently. After several moments of eager anticipation, Mariana couldn’t help herself any longer and broke the silence.

“You…you know where he is, don’t you?”

[The Shademan]

The voice of the wind incarnate came soft, like the breeze that had soothed the angel's cheek. In this tone was knowing, and something like sympathy. "...Sunn jra, yetz." This was nonsense to Mariana, but she was sure Ja'gan understood it. However, he did not. He waited not for the ancient words of where, but a direction, something they could follow.

He was obliged as Hraesvelg flapped its strange semblance of wings; a discord of empty images from which sprang a trio of small lights.

"Lua-ka stars..." he whispers as they spiral around one another in a gentle rhythm, their color putting to shame all of the nature around them. They were like flames forged into jewels, pearlescent and yet, lush. Ja'gan's lips curved in smile. "I had thought they were lost."

And with the gifts given, the Guardian dissolved nonchalantly into the wind, leaving Ja'gan in a bow, his hair in a blown tangle. In the corner of his eye, he spotted his hat, and with it, he walked over to Mariana. She was already standing around the lights, giving them a curious look. "How do they...You know, work?"


With a wizened gaze, the mystic said nothing. His eyes and the cicadas around them answered with sweet simplicity. The Lua-ka were guides. It was their purpose, and soon they began to drift east. At first, it seemed as though they were to run into the trees. Then, they heard the sound of cracking wood as every pine bowed to allow passage of the stars. One stayed closer to Mariana, the other leaned toward Ja'gan as it moved, and the third streaked off into darkness, clearing a path. The preternatural bent state of the trees continued to make them groan. Some of the larger trees were twisted like snakes, causing Mariana and her comrade to walk vigorously under, sometimes being showered by a few sparse needles or a loose cone or two.


It took a while before Mariana realized they had been walking for almost two days, and she wasn't a bit weary. The golden hue of her star, with deeper color than she remembered the gates of heaven to be, renewed her strength like a lover's blood. Ja'gan's mauve guide also kept him from exhaustion, feeding him rays of vitality. A few cracks along his side became smaller as the exposure increased, but he seemed not to notice. They would return soon enough, he predicted.

There came a point when Mariana wished to flex her wings, and by grabbing Ja'gan, they were able to cover more ground. Their lights, affected by their new speed, also jolted forward. They also sparkled now, as if riddled with excitement. After the Lua-ka had taken them on a trip lasting at least a week, they finally started to disintegrate as they realized the crimson aura they were approaching was the light of the final star. It burned over a structure covered in vines, covering nearly every barred window with ivy and brown tendrils. Rough and made of cinder bricks, it was crumbling on all sides.

A prison? But jails are usually near small towns , Mariana thought. But why was he here? It was so lonesome here, hollow and cold where the trees were gnarled like monsters around the cracked dirt. A serial number was carved into the building, near the front entrance:

6713-3352

The door was an open wound. Cracks and rubble lined the mouth of the jail, like someone had blown it open with some kind of weapon. Or maybe, just sheer power. From how the damage appeared, with the wall and chunk of lower part of the front doors intact, it seemed that someone would have to hold a bomb against the wall to make it happen that way. But that would kill the user, so it was even more unlikely.

Ja'gan noted the place didn't give off any force at all. It was just gloomy. But where was Maximilian? Didn't he hear them talking? Maybe he was hiding from her...The thought made her shiver. She didn't know what to think about that...And so, this was hastily thrown aside, into that proverbial dump within her mind. She only cared that she would see him.

The mystic in the achromatic garb led the way inside, and they immediately noticed something very strange. Etchings. They were everywhere. Along the walls in zigzag patterns, in aztec jags and even in swirls. Along the walls, the designs followed the walls and traversed hallways. Thin straight grooves blazed a road through the floor, and on the ceiling, cloud-like swirls of art helixed and met drunkenly in places. It was a mad toil even to take it all in!

It only made the silence more unnerving. The cells, unlike in cartoons, with-held any image of decaying bones; instead, there were gaping voids in some rooms that suggested escape. Through one, Mariana could see the cool viridian image of forest in the distance, far beyond the rugged ground where the jail slowly crumbled into dilapidation. At some point, she was sure a criminal once gave this vista the same, if not more appreciation upon its inception.

When they saw there were no more rooms to search on the first floor, they tried the second. Nothing. They then focused on their last chance. The basement area, which Mariana had discovered accidentally by almost falling through the rotten trapdoor, was the remaining hope. Trusting in Hraesvelg's stars, Mariana knew this was where her search would end...And still, she wondered...Didn't he hear them upstairs? Was he just waiting for them?