Rose is my favorite gal, an ideal heroine. When the Morois-Dhampir world needs some major renovation, she knows the main players will do the fixing-up. A good citizen, she will do her share by teaching in St. Vladimir. But when noone is doing the hard decisions, she'll do the banging and rock the world until it's forced to stop and listen. Besides, nothing is too big for this girl - now a woman, once she puts her mind into it.
First two chapters will be angst-filled as the story dictates. But it gets teasing and fun without losing its gravity as we go further. Hope you ride along with me.
Curve Balls
The faces of each and every St. Vladimir Guardians wore unreadable masks, emotionless and cold; our jaws clenched hard are the only outward testament of the sorrow and pain that we suffer. This midnight (noon in the human time), while the sun is at its highest and hottest, and the Morois are still asleep, we are holding a wake for our fallen. There are no bodies to bury; because lucky are those whose remains were buried in the Moroi communities where they served and fell. We mourn for our guardians, past graduates and instructors of the Academy who died in the line of service.
We have confirmed a number of the deaths because those were reported by friends and alchemists. But a lot of the missing is still unaccounted for. We know not because there have been no official reports reaching us for some time. To ensure that we honor every departed soul, it has become a ritual now. Almost every quarter, guardians and instructors, Dhampirs and a few Morois of St. Vladimir Academy, we gather to pay homage to our dead…
Ever since that damned law on Dhampir novices graduating at the age of sixteen was passed five years ago, the toll of deaths started climbing at an obscenely alarming rate. King Nikolai Dashkov and the Moroi Royal Council, frightened by the hostile mob that stormed the Royal Court two years ago, ordered a cessation on the broadcasting of news of death and massacre pertaining to Guardian casualties. Instead, to cover-up the facts, stories of heroism and successful battles are trumpeted all over. Victorious Guardians experience their 30-minutes of fame. They are special guests in Royal Moroi Banquets, their life stories splashed in our magazines, and their fighting techniques featured in cable shows.
Still, the Dhampir communities suffer. None of us escaped untouched. Nightmares of our dead children and siblings are etched on our faces.
Based on the pecking order of our existence, top of the food chain are the Strigois. The strigois are the feared vampires of the humans, and with good reason. When turned into strigois, all newborns are stripped of their goodness and humanity but none of the intelligence of their original self. They gain enormous strength and speed. They exist mainly on blood and they enjoy draining their victims to death. Victims, being the morois, dhampirs and humans. Not entirely invulnerable, they can be killed by silver stakes, burned, or decapitated, if you are fast and strong enough to catch them.
Next are the Morois. The Morois' similarity to the strigois end on both needing to feed on blood. Since the Morois eat normal foods too, they do not depend solely on blood nor do they drain their feeders; not unless they want to turn into Strigois. Although slower and physically weaker than Dhampirs, they have one major ability that we don't have. They can procreate. Basically, the computations for babies in the Moroi-Dhampir existence go: Moroi + Moroi = Baby Moroi; Moroi + Dhampir = Baby Dhampir; Moroi + Human = Baby Dhampir; Dhampir + Dhampir (or Human) = 0 Baby.
Which brings us to the Dhampirs. Although stronger, faster, and just as intelligent as the Morois, due to our dependence on the Morois for the survival of our kind, we are the bottom dwellers. Sad to say, if I include the unsuspecting humans, they are even higher than us because they don't need either Morois or Dhampirs to multiply. Thus, with the threat of the Strigois, we assumed the role of defenders to our Morois, and the Morois assumed the governance of the Morois-Dhampir society.
Rosemarie Hathaway, Guardian and Instructor for more than six years at St. Vladimir Academy. That will be the summarized version of my job experience in my bio-data if I ever start looking for a new profession.
I studied and graduated here at St. Vladimir Academy, along with my best friend, Princess Vasilisa Dragomir, the last legitimate Dragomir. The Dragomirs are part of one of the twelve ruling families in the monarch government of the Morois and Dhampirs. Lissa and I thought we will forever be together. While she promised that she would take part in the Moroi politics so she can look after the welfare of Dhampirs, I promised to be always by her side and protect her from danger.
My bosom buddy, aside from being a Moroi Royalty, can wield the rare element of spirit. As a spirit user, Lissa has the ability to cure the sick, grow plants, and bring back the dead. I am relieved to say that I am her greatest miracle. I was killed from a car crash along with her parents and brother, but she snatched me back as ole Grim Reaper was about to embrace me tightly for my eternal sleep.
But using this magnificent spirit element did not come free, she absorbs dark energies and it builds up and causes her emotional and mental breakdown. It's probably an exchange of opposite energies. When she uses her spirit element, she gives the positive energy to whomever she is healing and these lost energy is replenished by her patients with sickly negative energy. This negative energy causes darkness in her aura. If the darkness becomes too much, she would probably become insane.
Since 15 years old, I have been bonded to Lissa, shadow-kissed with an innate Strigoi-alarm, and a believer of ghosts coz they regularly hold a meeting with me once I step out of the wards of protected Moroi areas. Now aside from the usual hazards of strigois and possible assassins, I also absorb her darkness to keep her sanity intact. My own emotional and mental breakdown, once I absorb the darkness, is secondary, in my opinion. After all, I do owe her my life and the future security of the Dhampirs. She would always come first.
Or so I thought… But life throws a curve ball once in awhile. In fact I believe that all that life served me were curve balls.
My mother, Guardian Janine Hathaway, a legend in her own right, left me at the Academy when I was 3 years old so she can serve and guard her Moroi without worrying about me. She further excused her abandonment (I've always called a spade, a spade) because she wanted me to grow-up to be a guardian instead of a bloodwhore. In my mother's opinion, those are the only future for dhampir women…
At 17, I was lucky enough to be mentored by one of the most formidable guardians (at least in my opinion) so I would be worthy of being the guardian of Princess Lissa Dragomir. But I got thrown with a curve ball when I fell head over heels in love. This was how Dimitri Belikov, my personal Russian god and lover, became an integral part of my barely 18 years of existence. Falling in love was not a tragedy, especially since Dimitri fell as passionately as I did. With our feelings so intense, we were confident we could work out the complications of both being guardians after my graduation…
But life decided I had not enough. It pitched me another curve ball when a strigoi grabbed Dimitri and turned him into one of them. I was not called Badass Rose for nothing, I will not let mere monsters destroy the soul of my mate. And for the first time in our lifetime of friendship, I tested my bond with Lissa by leaving her behind the Academy. I set out to kill my strigoi lover but ended up with a failed quest and a fairytale hope of bringing Dimitri back to life. And to me.
If you will ask me how I will describe my 18year old self, I would describe me as passionate, tenacious, foolhardy and STUPID. I was too ignorant to see that our mission could have failed. I was heedless on what havoc an escape convict can create, and definitely too reckless of my own safety, my friends', and that of my promised charge, Lissa.
I do believe that somebody out there was looking after me when I chose my best friend. Despite leaving her behind and endangering her precious life, Lissa helped me bring back my Dimitri. I couldn't have done it without her. Her special spirit element was needed to turn the love of my life back to his Dhampir self. With her help, we can continue our love me and spend our life together as planned. Ever since I professed my love for him, however hard I kick and protest, I knew I would follow Dimitri to set the direction of our joint life.
Although I was not an awesome baseball player I have always been a decent hitter, being the crass, feisty, bull-headed person that I am. But I have never mastered the curve balls. Probably that is the reason why life loves to serve me curve balls. And that particular cruel ball, when I thought everything would finally go my way, side-blinded me so hard it almost broke me to pieces.
My Russian god, my lover, the integral part of my short 18 years, the only person who caused me to forget my oath to Lissa, refused to have me back! He said his love faded, (but damn it!) mine had not. And irony of ironies, he swore to protect no other except Lissa. It crushed my heart but I guess that was bi-polar justice. Since I abused what I used to believe was the reason for my birth, my other half ripped his self apart from me to fulfill my promised allegiance to Princess Vasilisa Dragomir. And justice for all… Of them.
Afterwards, I threw my own curve ball. Emotionally wrecked, sore loser and wailing brat that I was, instead of maturely accepting the consequences of my choices and proceeding to be one of the guardians of Lissa, I ran back to school. I needed to go back to the only home I knew to become whole again.
But it was actually not an altogether selfish reason why I went back to St. Vladimir. As the best graduate that the school had ever produced, thanks partly to my faithless former instructor, I wanted to turn my frustration into something constructive by dedicating my time teaching the novices.
And that was how I found myself with a job experience of over six years as Academy Guardian and Instructor...if I ever I have to submit my bio-data.
After all those curve balls pitched by life, I am not ashamed for choosing St. Vladimir over Lissa. When the Change in Age of Guardianship was enacted a year after, I found myself more needed in the Academy.
I love Lissa and we've always kept in touch. I do not have to guard her safety from strigois and other attacks, Dimitri and my former classmate Eddie Castille have that efficiently covered; but I can still absorb her darkness even from afar. Because we are distantly apart, I can be emotionally disattached to her distress and it's easier to expel the negative spirit through physical exertion and fights. And she had a lot of pain during the last three years. Her relationship with Christian Ozera did not end well. Her studies at the university away from the Royal Court, King Nikolai and majority of the Moroi Royals being against the Ozeras, resulted to bitter arguments, jealousy and finally, separation. Couple that with her integration to the Moroi politics, the backstabbing and the stress of being part of the Royal Council took a lot from her naturally trusting persona.
But I am proud of my friend. I can truly say she was born to be a member of the Royal Council, probably better than her dead brother Andre. Hopefully she'll be elected Queen in the future. At only 24 yrs old, she has matured into an astute, cunning, determined politician and is now a seasoned player of Moroi politics; but thank God, she has loads of compassion for non-royal Morois and Dhampirs.
Another defender of the Dhampirs is Lady Tasha Ozera. She is the aunt of Christian, former boyfriend of Lissa. Tasha is a Moroi martial arts black belter, consummate combatant using fire element, proponent of Morois learning offence and defence using their elements, and sadly, sister and sister-in-law to Morois-Volunteer-Strigois, Christian's parents.
Tasha and Christian, although part of the ruling royal families, became undesirables when Christian's parents willingly turned to strigois. For a long time the Council did not assign her a guardian. I am relieved that they granted the request of my mother that Tasha and Christian to be under her charge.
But with only two champions in the governing council, the inevitable rape of our race cannot be fully stopped, especially if the administration's majority is made-up of terrified royals. With the previously ragtag strigois now organized and lead by skillful leaders plus the assassination of Queen Tatiana, the Monarchs panicked. Tatiana was replaced by King Nikolai Vincent Dashkov (heaven forbid!), nephew of escaped convict ex-Prince Victor Dashkov.
They speedily passed and acted on the law on novices graduating at 16, so did the law that Dhampirs are forbidden to marry Morois. They argue that Morois must marry Morois to ensure the continuing existence of Morois and Dhampirs. Another bill passed is all male Dhampirs have to serve as guardians until the age of 40 and women until 30, although it is waiting at the sideline to be executed. This particular law is bound for modification as soon as the law on all Dhampir women, from the age of 18-22 years old, are subject to at least bear one Dhampir child. If this legislative passes, somehow my mother will be correct. Dhampir women are suitable to be guardians but just as good to be bloodwhores.
For the egocentric Moroi Royals, it is the responsibility of the female dhampirs to procreate with male Morois to produce more of our kind to ensure the continuing safety of the delicate Morois… They condescendingly hale us as the Heroes of the Moroi–Dhampir Society.
The council threw us a pittance, through the lobbying of Lissa and Tasha, by putting up gymnasiums to teach interested Morois to learn defense/offense combat using their elements. But the law on combat classes being included in the Morois school curriculum, has so far been rejected.
With all these going on, I knew I had reached the end of being the efficient, reliable, guardian-instructor. I felt constrained, useless and most of all confused. For so long now, I have been questioning the wisdom in preparing our novices only to lead them to their death march. I have hidden myself inside the safe womb of St. Vladimir Academy.
Enough! It is time for Rosemarie Hathaway to shake things up. I want to roar and I want the world to listen to my grievances!