Whoo~ This one has been sitting in my files for a bit…If you happen to be on either the NagiML or the WK-StrangeLoveML you may have seen this…^^; Finally getting around to posting it here…if FF.net will let me. X.x
Warnings: This is yaoi, ladies and…ladies. ^^; That means lots of fun boi-boi love. ^__^ If you don't like that, what are you dong reading one of my fics?! Theres lots of Schwarz, which usually means lots of blood…oh yes, there will be blood. ^^; Much blood. Theres Schwarz, and theres Omi, and eventually there will be Ken. No Aya. No Youji. Just a bit, but then they become unimportant. ^^; Don't get me wrong, I love the boys…theyre just not in this fic. ^^; This is mostly PG-13, with some R bits…erm…and a few NC-17 bits…I'll warn you when we get to those though. ^^;
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone…but damn, I wish I did. ^^;
Note: If youve read any of the Anita Blake series, 'Clan of the Cave Bear', or any Anne Rice, some of the prologue may sound a bit familiar...don't worry, Im only using them as a bit of refrence, and am, in no way, trying to take their wonderful ideas. T-T
Ok, shutting up now…sorry you had top go through all this. I promise not to blabber in the next chapters.
Prologue
When he was young, his father told him stories of the journey into the New Land of his own childhood. His father's mother had been the bastard child of a beautiful blonde woman and one of the creatures whom were no longer animal, but not quite human, either.
He had the same black hair and piercing blue eyes of his grandmother, but any other trace of the creature that had been his great-grandfather were vanished. He stood just over 6 feet, tall even for his people who were slowly populating the new land.
At his 19th summer, he declined position of leader of their tribe from his father. A leader he was, true, but such things held no interest for him at the time. Rather, he chose to make his own journeys, south across the continent, then, once at the ocean, back across to where his father and grandparents had come from, some 40 summers ago.
The winter of his 27th year found him in the icy tundra of what would eventually be called Denmark. It was there that he met the old woman. The once-priestess of a small band of travelers, she had been cast out by her own brother for murder and possession. He sat at her hearth fire as she told him of the days of her youth as a priestess, and of the tragedy that had her exiled from the camp.
In her 35th year she preformed the Death Rites for her own child. Striken with greif, she lost control of the ritual, allowing a deamon to take possession of her body. The being feasted on her very soul until there was nothing left, then left her with only the desire, the utter need, for the lives of others. Without it, she claimed, she would fall into an incredible death-sleep, arising again only on the life of another. For a while she sustained herself on the animals of the wild, feeding her hunger on their blood to save her own people. But in the end, it was her own brother she attacked, managing only a few precious warm mouthfuls of the liquid that was to be her only nourishment.
Together they lived in her cave for many moon-cycles, she providing him with shelter and a look into a world he never could have even imagined, and he providing her with the company she so longed for. And in the end, when he had to move on, it seemed only natural that her gift to him would be the one thing that had entranced him during his stay. She took his life, then returned it with a new flavour. Forever he would live being 20-and-7 years old, feeding from the blood of others.
And at his transformation, she awakened within him the power for Foresight, weaker than her own, but still enough to see a few days into the future. 'Everyone has a special power inside them,' she explained, and at her possession, not only had hers been awakened, but she received all the powers, though muted, of the deamon.
For decades, centuries, he traveled alone, seeing what there was to see. He lived, he loved, he killed, all on his own whims. Until he came upon a group of Viking warriors that cought his fancy. One in particular captured his attention; a loud, brash, insubordinate prick of a man who seemed to have potential. A companion was what he needed; not a lover or a friend, just a companion with whom he could travel. And so, in less than one turn of the moon, he had forever that brash young Viking with the reddest hair he had ever seen.
Together they traveled the world for thousands of years, slowly adding to their entourage as they found those that interested them. They made a few, but only two stayed with them. A small boy joined them, taken to young at the Second's will. The Viking chose his own companion, a lovely boy sent down into a spiral of hate directed at the new Christian God. In life, he had been deceived by his best friend, the son of a poor carpenter man.
At the turn of the second mellinium of AD, they were complete. The origonal intentions of companionship no longer mattered; they were four, the Seer, the Telepath, the Telekenetic, and the Blasphmer who felt no pain. They were so close to the first that nothing hurt them, even the sun that was rumoured to kill their small population . As far as they knew, they were truly immortal.
ende prologue.