Ars Moriendi
Disclaimer: I own nothing, my imagination doesn't extend that far.
"Silent enim leges inter arma" Laws are silent in times of war in latin
For those interested 'Ars Moriendi' means the art of dying in latin.
Chapter 2 – Arma
Another battle, another day. I was getting tired of the constant power struggle. Maria would order us forward and we would obey, like little sheep I watched as the inexperienced waltz to their death. All the time I put in training the pawns was wasted as their instincts took over. I suppose I should consider myself lucky, being in a position of power, it made me valuable… indispensible. I was significant unlike the many that stood in front of me, hanging of my every word, following my every instruction.
Maria, my creator, is a power obsessed egomaniac. Her desperation for control has led her to generate her own army, an army who I am responsible for preparing for battle. The reason for fighting is simple; she wants to be the main commander of the south, the ruler of all. In her mind this is a land that can be acquired, a land that can be used and everyone who dared to trespass would face the wrath.
I guess I should explain, this isn't a normal war. No weapons or heavy machinery are used, we have no cavalry on white horses who ride up when we need assistance. We do not kill with swords or daggers, muskets or arrows, we use only our bodies and the strength within them. Don't be fooled it isn't an honourable or fair fight, not a well choreographed dance like the Chinese martial arts. We attack and we attack hard, no strategy no fear. We rip and shred at the enemies pulling them limb for limb, biting at their necks, eradicating them one by one.
We have competition, others with the same idea as Maria. I have seen many perish at their hands. Some of our rivals are larger than us, others numbers dwindle, but either way they are opponents, a minor glitch on a step of the ladder to success. Like any other commander, human or not, there is one common goal, have the best soldiers. Which is where I come in; I am Marias second in command, as much as I detest it. It wasn't new to me, being a superior, even as a human I followed the same path.
My life was simple before all this. I was human and moral, the stereotypical southern gentleman. I followed the written path, what was expected of me. At the age of 17 I joined the army through lies and deceit. It didn't take me long to work my way through the ranks, soon becoming a Major, the youngest around. And from there my recent history starts.
I suppose I should make it clear, referring to my life as a human, I mean. I am no longer mortal, instead taking on the eternal life as a vampire. I have lived two separate lives, one with growth and development, a limit on my time and this one. I am almost indestructible, very little substantially damages me. Skin cold as ice and stronger than steel, only the teeth of my fellow kind can penetrate it. My morals have slacked also; I have become a carnivorous monster, praying on the weak.
How did I come to be this way one may ask? It is all down to Maria, she was my creator, my turner and now my companion. I was ambushed by her and her two followers, stunned by their sheer beauty, unnatural to any being I had met before. She took advantage of this, sinking her teeth into my fragile warm skin, filling my body with her potent venom. The pain that followed was excruciating, burning all my nerves as it spread. And that is how it came to be, how I became the blood thirsty killer before you.
The wars I fight are between my species, arguing over who has the right to the most blood, the heavily populated areas. There are people who try and prevent this, stop the conspicuous killings, stabilise the mortality rates of the humans. These people are the royalty, the governors and the jury, the Voltori. They write the laws, carry out the laws and set the punishments. It has little effect however; it is hard to change a learned behaviour.
There is a Latin phrase 'Silent enim leges inter arma' meaning laws are silent in times of war, a prevalent saying amongst the commanders. It describes the blatant distaste for the rules. No matter how hard the Voltori try, how many covens they decimate the war rages on.
So here I am following a lifestyle I don't enjoy. I am technically brilliant, I can control vast numbers of volatile newborns yet I feel like a savage. My gift, which is more of a curse, overwhelms my existence. Many people say they can read another's emotions, can tell how they are feeling, but it is all based on body language nothing more. I, however, am different. I can and do feel the emotions of others. They radiate from their bodies like heat from a fire. Every emotion they feel I can pinpoint, every flicker of hope or sadness no matter how hard they try to hide it. It extends further though; I can control emotions over great numbers. I can silence a room full of people by emitting calm and serenity. I can bring on wars all of my own, creating anger in the most gentle of people. And this is my downfall.
Have you ever imagined trying to hurt someone if you could feel everything they feel? I can, my body and mind conflict. By essence I am a hunter, a hunter for human blood. The pain I endure when thirsty is incredible. A thick burning sensation constricts my throat, squeezing until I give in. And when I do the torture starts. Is it not bad enough that I have to kill to sustain my life, why am I plagued with the insight of others?
Confusion and adjuration is where it always starts. My unusual appearance, my beauty, is what lures them in. As I approach their little minds go into overdrive. Unsure of what how this situation will unfold scepticism and fear become prominent in the emotional whirlwind. Then I strike and the pain flows from them, just like the blood that I lap up, quenching the thirst. I can't carry on this way. It is becoming harder and harder to kill.
In that split second a decision was made, I needed to escape. It wouldn't be as easy as simply walking away but the plan was set in motion. I would go in search of a better life. One where I wouldn't have to fight, to watch my hard work go to waste. One where I would only kill to survive rather than every time the opportunity presented itself. I would not continue being the monster I had become. Now I just had to figure out how.