This story is based on my Chronicle for a character I play in Vampire:The Requiem. I bow to White Wolf, as well as to my fellow players, whose characters are referenced in this story. They are true artisans.

Aislinn Davis is, in her entirety, MY OWN CREATION. The others mentioned in this story belong to their respective players so please do not filch these characters for your own stories. I would truly appreciate this courtesy, and I hope you enjoy this little peek into the life of a thrall.

The Thrall's Oath

I will serve without question,
Love without end.
My Blood belongs to my Master;
My Heart is his also.
My lips are to feed, my hands and feet to serve.
I will embrace the night as he has done.
I will embrace him when he calls for me,
Drink when he offers me his unlife in red,
And defend him when he slumbers.
I will love no other
Serve no other.
This is my desire.
This is my hunger.
This is my creed.

...

Every Tragedy has a Prelude...

She was terrified; there were no two ways about it. He had tried to prepare her for what she would be encountering that night, but no one can really tell you how things are going to be, can they?

As they walked into Boheme, the young woman instantly knew that eyes were on her, alive and undead alike, despite the crushing crowds of the elite club. For one thing, she was new to the city and, secondly, she was on the arm of a vampire, an Ordo Dracul Gangrel nonetheless. If she had been in a normal club, she would have taken advantage of her red and black clothing and hid amongst the dark corners and red lights and watched those around her, gauging and measuring. But here, she could not do that. Here, she was on their turf; she was in a night creature's world and yet not of it. She could not hide.

She shook slightly as they strode slowly through the club, she trying to calm her pounding heart and shortened breath. She knew that it was not common practice for those of undead society to bring a thrall to gathers as a companion but William had never been one to follow the rules, she was fast realizing. Before they approached the staircase to the second level, he pulled her aside to a dark corner.

"Are you all right?" he asked lowly.

She nodded somewhat quickly, an indication of just how scared she really was.

"Are you frightened?"

Another quick nod.

"Well, you should be. But don't worry. Keep your head down, stay near me, and you'll be fine." His breath brushed her ear as he leaned down to whisper to her and he gave an affectionate touch to the black lace ribbon tied around her neck. The mark of a thrall, a servant of the Damned

She gripped his hands at his words and he returned her squeeze quickly before leading her out of the corner and towards the staircase again. Giving his name to the bouncer, William then led her upstairs into a large, private, gathering room with quiet lighting and several tables, a few of which were occupied. William made for a table that was engaged by a gentleman in a suit who tapped away languidly at a PDA. This man she would come to know and despise but, tonight, she would be entrusted to his care for a short while and would learn to suspect him. He was not as subtle as he thought he was. His gaze made her skin crawl and the way he smirked just so his fangs barely showed sent her blood into a chill, something that she was sure amused him.

Aislinn did as William had advised; she kept calm, assumed a demure, subservient air, and didn't speak unless she was spoken to. Though her eyes met the floor at all times, her ears were open. She reported to William what she heard in various conversations when she kept to a darkened corner, specifically comments concerning him and the library of Stephen Davies. He had trained her well in the art of listening and observing others, of sifting information to retain what was truly important. All the classic tenets of spywork. Just when she thought the night would pass safely, William was called in to speak with the Intercessors. The poor girl felt her heart nearly drop into her shoes. He had told her about the Intercessors; these creatures were so powerful as to kill her if she so much as looked at the ground in a way that displeased them. And now she must face them, on her first true night out in the city. She was scared that she would forget what he had told her about the rules and, for a split-second, she did, but it returned to her quick enough as to not embarrass him or endanger her. The lady Intercessors even complimented William on his thrall's behavior but she made not a sound, stirred not an inch.

That night, Aislinn discovered the dangers of the undead society of Capitol City. In order to restore order after a breach to the Masquerade, William's services were required and she was left in the care of his coterie member, Mr. Talbot, the vampire she was first introduced to. He plied her for information but she pleaded ignorance as to William's actions, which was the truth, as he had wisely chosen to only tell her that she was to stay at the club. It was in this moment that Aislinn distrusted Talbot, sensing his underlying dislike for Mr. William Savage. It earned him her deep loathing.

Finally, William did return, looking angry, tired, and hungry. Throughout the course of the rest of the night, she discovered that he had been in an altercation with another vampire, a stranger to the city, and had been beaten soundly. William quit Boheme not long after explaining the situation and 'reconciling' with the unknown Damned, with Aislinn on his arm. As they drove back to Capital Heights, William explained the situation and his need. It was her first night to have her "services" required of her, but she was more than willing to endure his kiss. What is love for if not to sacrifice oneself for the other? What is love if you are not willing to die for the other?

Earlier in the day, she had written in her journal...

If someone is reading this, then something has happened. What, I do not know but something has happened or gone terribly wrong. I have either left Capitol City or I am dead. Either way, you have found what I had to hide for so long. I may be lax on dates because, really, they mean nothing to me anymore but, for your sake, I shall tell you that it all started in 2004 but this journal starts in January 2005. I shall try to write this as best I can remember...though I do not know how I could ever forget that night...and the many nights that followed. The night when the darkness became my day.

But, before you continue, I must warn you that to proceed with reading this could endanger you. For what I have written here, what you will come to know, may kill you. If they find out you know, they will kill you.

My parents died when I was eight, in a car crash, and I have been a product of the system ever since, bouncing from family to family. I refused to let anyone define me, to change what I still held of my parents, so I rebelled by being very dark, quiet, mysterious, and even a bit scary, often running away. At eighteen, I finally struck out on my own in New York City, having made some friends along the way. I was working part time in clothing stores in Chinatown. Over the years I had found myself facinated by the mystery and magic of vampire myths; they helped me escape when I needed to. I'd heard some people in the right places whisper about what they called "vampire taverns" or covens. I was curious, naturally, not having much of anything to lose. So I visited them in an attempt to learn more. Unfortunately, they were mostly clubs for goth wanna-be's but, one night...one night was different. One night changed it all.

It was a Thursday night so I decided to head to Phaiakaa. I'd been there a few times, nothing interesting but it was a quiet place and I needed quiet just then. I found a place at the bar and ordered a drink with a low alcohol content; I like to keep my wits about me.

"That's not a vampire's drink," came a voice about two seats down at the bar.

"And what would you know about it, huh?" I snapped. I was so sick of these goth punks trying to pass themselves off. Worst of all, I was starting to lose interest in the whole myth now.

The guy just kind of chuckled to himself and threw back the red drink that sat before him, which left a considerable stain upon the glass. "Let's just say that I have experience," he replied, glancing back at me. I could see that he was slightly pale, short brown hair, glittering blue eyes. He didn't really smile but I imagine that, if he had, it would have been a sad one.

But I wouldn't be fooled again. "Experience in what? Tricking little girls into believing your charade? Sorry, I'm not biting."

"Then why don't I, hmm?"

I swear I nearly jumped a mile high and whirled around, my elbow knocking the drink over, but I didn't even hear the barkeep. He was right behind me! But he hadn't been a second ago and I had been watching him!

"Oh, my..."

He held up a finger to his lips to shush me. "He has nothing to do with this and some might take offense so, don't." He held out a hand with a slight smile. "William Savage."

I hesitated for a moment but then put my hand in his. "Aislinn Davis."

He insisted on nothing; we merely talked for a while. Actually, we talked all night. About 4am, I went to the bathroom but, when I came back, he was gone. I decided then and there that I wanted to see him again; something about him...it drew me. So, for a week after, I scoured Phaiakaa, waiting for him. When I finally saw him again, I told him what I wanted. I didn't have a life here anyway and he...for the first time in my life, my heart had ached for something other than solitude and darkness. When he kissed me for the first time...oh, it was so sweet! It held everything I could have ever wanted, wrapped in one delicious taste and feeling!

It was almost a year ago that I became William's thrall. At his insistence--and, I think, scheming to test me--I stayed in New York, working as his eyes and ears, but now I am come to Capitol City to serve him there. I find that he is an extremely stubborn man, ached and scarred by years of horrors that he will not tell me of. William does not seem to believe that I am more than willing to remain enthralled to him even after being "freed" from the blood bond by time and apart from him for almost a year. But I will show him.

William does not like me to keep journals; he considers them a threat to the Masquerade. Inasmuch as I am one myself, being mortal, I can understand. But I also need a siphoning for my mind or I will go insane. A woman cannot live by love and blood alone. So I have hidden these pages here and write while he sleeps. While I was in New York, I could still live a 'normal' life--even sleep at night sometimes. But, now, my body must reverse itself, for I must watch over William during the day and be at his side and call at night. Perhaps, someday...but I do not dwell on it. Dwelling is dangerous.